So there I was, happily tippity tappety-ing away on my keyboard at work, writing another essay instructing some poor sap on the proper procedure for filling out Stupid Form No. 84116875138. I finished up, blasted through spellcheck, and had my mouse poised above "print".
That's when it started.
It said NO. Don't print. Something is wrong.
Very, very wrong.
I reread it. Clear, concise, and correct.
It's not right.
I must have stared at that procedure for ten straight minutes. Do you know that if you stare at a word document for long enough, it turns into one of those magic eye pictures and you see all sorts of cool things? True story.
I stared at it. I scrolled up. I scrolled down. I viewed in different modes. I spellchecked, grammar-checked, and edited for format.
I went for coffee.
When I sat back down, there it was, clear as 12pt, black, Times New Roman on a lily-white page.
Here's what I actually wrote, with intent to distribute:
"... is a part of the lead HAND JOB." "...the lead HAND JOB requires that..." "For the lead HAND JOB to be efficent..."
Yeah, I did that.
Of course, it SHOULD (and now does) read "JOB of the LEAD HAND".
Gotta love a dirty double entendre in official procedural documentation.
I'm not as think as I smart I am.