When I was a teenager, I worked for my grandfather. It was a sort of torture for us both. One year, he had to send out some catalogs and the manufacturers he worked with sent him some literature to include in the catalog. Some of the pages weren’t well made, so he decided that those little plastic reinforcements needed to be put on the little holes in the pages. This meant they needed to be put on all three holes on every single page in every single catalog. I am not sure how many of those little plastic reinforcements I had to put on, but I know that they ordered a case of those plastic rings of death and I used them all. It went on for more than a month.
I often reflect upon this project when I am working on something irritating. It’s sort of my project hellishness gauge. What was or is your project of death?
