Once again, we’re trading skirts and shorts for leggings from Novi Pazar, with the occasional jacket making an appearance. And yet, somehow, around noon, just as we’re heading out for lunch, our beloved star decides to blaze down on us as if it were July, adding a completely unnecessary dose of stress to our lunch break.

From the many exotic destinations we found ourselves in this summer, we reluctantly returned to life in the post-COVID age of artificial intelligence. Ironically, AI manages to be both incredibly helpful and incredibly unhelpful at the same time, quickly dragging us back into a state of heightened uncertainty, anxiety, binary sensations, and endless exposure to blue light. Clearly, something had to be done...

Recently, and at just the right time, thanks to the lovely ladies from HR, we managed to take a break from our daily routine of digging ourselves into a hole and headed to a familiar spot in Čurug. Most arrived by car. Some skillfully paddled their boards, while certain C-level executives were rather annoyed by their inability to do the same. One colleague even paddled all the way from Futog to the Mrtva Tisa.

This time, however, the day wasn't simply about the usual statistical analysis of who ate more, who drank more, and how many people stayed overnight. Instead, in the spirit of our glorious ancestors from the days of socialist workers' self-management, we held actual, honest-to-goodness Workers' Olympic Games!

Unfortunately, the spirit of our ancestors survived only in the name. Everything that followed was firmly rooted in the free market, with the teams naturally led by the company owners and representatives of the finance and production departments. You could call it head versus heart, or logic versus passion.

The team selection process was highly suspicious, considering that one team had no fewer than two former members of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. One was a war veteran, big enough to count as two men, while the other was an expert at covering his tracks. Needless to say, the first event, tug-of-war, played straight into the hands of these gentlemen, who now find themselves living on the plains but mostly hail from the mountainous Balkans and the aforementioned Futog.

The sturdy lads from the production team took the first victory, but things weren't quite so easy after that. What followed were events requiring agility, finesse, and rhythm, the delicate touch of someone familiar with hoops and nets, feet toughened by walking over the pebbles of the Danube, experience in agricultural crafts, and the ability to put one's pride aside and get one's face thoroughly messed up before alcohol had even had the chance to do so. Perhaps...

When the final results were in, the scales tipped in favor of the finance department, probably because they had a little heart in them too, not just logic. Naturally, no proper village fair, including this one, would be complete without its share of controversy. There were complaints, lobbying efforts, demands to revise the competition rosters, and campaigns dirtier than those run by certain ruling parties in certain countries. In the end, however, the spirit of collectivism prevailed, defeat was accepted, and sport finally gave way to alcohol.

We wrapped up the day with good company, music, food and drinks, swimming in the rain, paddling, and outdoor HaxBall. Ah, it certainly helped us reset a little and take our minds off digging that hole we're inevitably going to fall into ourselves. We also showed our geriatric side by heading home earlier than ever before. Nobody even drove home drunk, which, just to be clear, is practically a tradition.

P.S. A Little Commercial Break:

On October 22 and 2(3), come down to Fabrika for some live music. Our former colleague Peca is organizing an instrumental music festival, and there might even be a familiar face or two among the performers. Expect a thick, heavy sound and even heavier guitars.

And once you've recovered from all that music and come back to your senses, don't forget to do your civic duty on October 25, so we can finally put an end to these technological, meteorological, and political disturbances.