A LOVELY GRID PATTERN

When the Dutch burgers of New Amsterdam started planning the settlement they laid out a lovely grid pattern, because they were logical and being Dutch, had both strong rectalinear instincts, accountant sensibilities, and an anal obsession with minutiae. My ancestors. Even though generations have passed since we did that, AND bought the entire damn continent for a little over twenty dollars all of the Anglos need to pay rent dammit seeing as it's probably too late to kick y'all out, as well as making a lovely contractual deal with a local tribe of one shiny coin for the scalp of one of those hosers over that hill yonder (superceding the previous lovely deal of a shiny coin for an ear, because who knows where that ear came from and each person normally has two of those things), were part of that group.

And seeing as for centuries marriages were substantially within the same creed and culture, until five generations ago we all still spoke Dutch, by four generations many members of the tribe could still read it -- old State Bible translation Dutch and either Datteen or Marnix van Sint Aldegonde -- and although we're now substantially Anglicised, we fondly remember that, technically, we still own the entire shebang all the way to the Pacific Ocean. A deal is a deal.

All of which partly explains why I was dreaming in spreadsheets. Sort by bill dates and open amount, with a formula calculating what that percentage that is of the original invoice figure (in case an easy deduction becomes apparent, defective allowances, agreed upon charges, testing fees, etcetera), and make sure that the notes field text wraps around in the allotted width so that pertinent facts about collection efforts are visible.

International sales, though huge, were the easiest. Prepayment by wire transfer before the goods were released for loading. East coast customers were largely a mess. No, I have no idea whatsoever what product we were manufacturing. But I knew that our English and Indonesian correspondents were in town, so it all had to be done by a certain time this morning, when I have an appointment with the physician who did the angioplasty.

At which point, if I'm on the ball, I shall seek confirmation of the names of the entire team in the operating room, so that I can send a thank you card. I had a lovely time, thank you, you were all very nice. Even though for three hours I was out of it.

[The astute reader will remember that Lotus 1-2-3 was followed by Lotus Symphony, both of which were the greatest thing since sliced bread until Excel came along, which was originally a Macintosh programme, before Windows were introduced. Since then Excel has brutally wiped the floor with its predecessors.]

Slight panic mode: could I get it all done before the CEO and his team met the heads of the foreign companies? Especially as the Indonesians kept interrupting to talk Betawi flavoured Bahasa with me (about food, and eating possibilities in SF), and the English had questions concerning curry places in the city (years ago I was connected to an Indian food enterprise, AND apparently I "speak like a civilised person").


Somehow this was all linked with and prompted by the rain during the night. A constant geroesemoes from beyond the window pane and distant-sounding drumming.



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