Three times in my life I've installed computer systems at my place of work.
Each time for months on end without letup life became so hideously difficult that it was just plain goofy.
Or, as I'm fond of describing it, my life entered the ZEW - the Zone of Extraordinary Weirdness.
Eat your heart out, Rod Serling, wherever you are.
But Fleetwood Mac put my trials and tribulations to shame when they made "Rumours".
This was the seventh best-selling studio album of all time but the production of it sometimes made the Marx Brothers look like lukewarm oatmeal.
Let's start by observing that Lindsey Buckingham was breaking up with Stevie Nicks, John and Christine McVie were divorcing, and Mick Fleetwood was divorcing his wife.
Nobody was talking to one another except in clipped, civil tones when they were working on tracks in the studio.
Imagine being forced to do a joint term paper with your worst ex-lover.
And that's just for starters, folks.
Warning: You are about to enter the ZEW.
Drugs were everywhere.
The band had a cocaine dealer who regularly provided them all with high quality Peruvian powder.
Mick Fleetwood was so pleased with him that he was considering giving this individual credit in the future album's liner notes.
Until the dealer was executed, that is.
No, that wasn't a typo.
Then there were the Bionic Brownies.
Nicks had a girlfriend who baked a batch heavily laced with hashish.
To be fair to the girlfriend she did warn everyone that they were extremely strong.
The band ignored her.
They also got nothing done that day, for obvious reasons.
I've described in another article how Stevie Nicks wrote "Dreams" in ten minutes in a side studio referred to as "Sly Stone's Pit", a garishly decorated sunken lounge.
Did I mention that it had its own nitrous oxide tank? Next there was the Piano From Hell.
It wouldn't tune.
Fleetwood Mac called in a heavily tattooed individual who earned the moniker "the Looner Tuner".
His efforts didn't please the band.
Next they brought in a blind piano tuner.
They still weren't satisfied (do you detect a pattern here?).
Next they tried switching pianos not once, but nine times.
Still not good enough.
Finally they ended up not using the piano tracks at all.
Result: four days of expensive studio time wasted...
on tuning an instrument.
They also had to cope with "Jaws".
No, I'm not referring to Bruce the Shark from the immortal 1975 Steven Spielberg movie of the same name (wrong coast, anyway).
I'm talking about a tape recorder that earned the dreaded nickname because it had the annoying habit of chewing up fresh takes.