Friday, October 09, 2015

Chubby rain

With thanks to Bowfinger.

Phat drops of rain are striking the tin roof of the shed—aluminum, rather—as I prepare for the ride. It's nice.

It's Mental Health Week. Our work is doing the 1010 promise thing. I put a mental health promise pic up of me with theBoy as a 12-month-old with the written promise to remind myself that I am loved by family, friends and colleagues all. 

That's the thing about having the sads—it lies to you and tells you you're shit (1). 

Fortunately I will never actively think that way again but it's good to have a reminder up lest you unconciously fall into those morose old ways of hurtful self-loathing.

Fuck that shit. Fuck that shit right up.

It was an insanely busy day. I take burdens upon myself that others do not and it means I am constantly working when others work at a more sedentary pace. I only now responded to a friend's email from two weeks ago that needed a bit of a think before replying. Don't get me wrong, I prefer busy and achievable work. Plus I get to directly work on the morale-lifting front and being involved in such work gives me deep satisfaction and joy in spite of the stress.

I noticed though if the computer started to wobble—it often craps out when using Word, Outlook or when using graphic software—that if I am in high tempo mode then I suffer those flashes of acute indignation and I have to consciously avoid swearing and or yelling at it. It's just a tool, it has no feelings, but fuck me sideways if that tool doesn't give me the fucking shits when the network grinds to super slow speed with page load lag—and our 10-year-old+ versions of standard software doesn't help.

I said hello by name to someone who doesn't know me by sight and only by email. I could see she was weirded out but I had kept walking and so had she and it was pointless to catch up and yell my name at her. That wouldn't be a nice thing to do on someone's Friday. 

I had a happy chat with a manager, talking about resilience techniques. It's a joy to work for people who truly give a shit about their people.  


(1) Quoth Wil Wheaton; "depression lies".

No comments:

Post a Comment

No comments needed, really.

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.