Despite all this good news, the staff seems to be consumed with rage and hate. I know some of it is due to fatigue and overwork, but I think most of it stems from internal problems and personality clashes and, perhaps more than anything else, poor communications. (Imagine that, a bunch of otaku and SF fans with poor communications skills. In other news, dog bites man. Film at 11.) I am doing my best to try and soothe peoples' taut nerves, spread a little oil on the troubled waters, and reassure people that they really did do a good job, overall. Harsh truths and boots to the head can wait for later, and there aren't so many of those required anyway; a word to the wise should suffice. I know there are things I screwed up, many, many things, and all I can do is own up to them and try my damnedest to fix them.
Tonight I consume sushi with the Flying Monkeys of Registration, who worked hard and did good work under extremely stressful and difficult conditions, and follow that with a visit to Reverend Jack. This weekend, the ATC Board meets for the last time before the annual meeting, which will precede the staff post-mortem.
This is worse than the usual post-con depression. For a while, I was in a good mood, but now the black dog has come sniffing around again and I'm not really sure quite what to do.