Thursday, January 20, 2011

Screw Being Polite

For those not in on it, the joke is that I'm not actually polite or tactful.  Ah yes, mirth.

Anyway, now that I've acknowledged the peanut gallery, we can get on with our tale.  I'm sick and still in the first few days of learning to sleep properly when someone else is in the damn bed, so I am so cranky.  10^27 cranky.  I must have left my patience with people in my other pants.

For example, one of my work buddies was like "what are you doing with that one test box?"
me: "Touch it and die."

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Got to keep it hidden away, away away....

Those who listen or care about the vox populi know that men are bad at expressing their feelings, or something to that effect.  I posit the following: everyone is bad at expressing their feelings.  Everybody.  No exceptions.  It's the easiest thing in the world to be depressed, or angry, or irritated, but it's next to impossible to remember to tell people.  Or even want to tell people.  Silly hu-mans.  So private.

The long and the short of it is that I continually disappoint my boss.  It's easy for me, because I have motivation issues and don't respect authority, but really the main problem is that I don't report when I have problems.  I can spend a whole hour in the morning meeting discussing what I'm going to do all day, all the while knowing that my brain is going to slide over to the internets as soon as we're done.  For the most part, this hasn't been a problem, because I'm paid hourly and I don't charge for brain-slide time, but I had a soul-crushing day on Friday and motivation is at a localized minimum.  dMotivation/dt = 0, fortunately, but still, not useful for productivity.  This brings us to today: I was supposed to get 4 hours of work done and I didn't get started until 2.5 hours after I should have.  Big mistake, in theory.

Once I got started, I was on fire.  However, getting started was Sisyphean.  I should have notified him: "dude, I spent the whole morning working on it and now I finally got the engine to turn."  Instead, I just kept working until I had to report in.  Didn't wanna, because I would have to explain that Friday fucked up my whole motivational process and that I didn't give a shit about anyone right now because there wasn't a pressing need for my services.

When I don't tell my boss why I have so little done, he's forced to assume I don't care.  People assume the worst when you don't tell them how you feel.  My friends tell me all the time "Oh, I can't go, my wife, you know, she funny".  I know.  Everybody funny.  Just tell me what the hell is going on so I don't sit here assuming that you guys are a bunch of immature dicks.

So yeah, I should tell people how I feel if it bothers me so much when they don't do the same for me.