eFail

Today, I did a very silly thing.

My entries thus far have all been written at work (exclusively in my own time, of course). It is only recently that I arrived upon the decision to publish them in a blog, as much for myself as anything. I knew that unless I had an audience (no matter how imagined) I would inevitably stop writing, and I didn't want to do that.

My writings had been jotted down in a word document, and when I came to the decision that I wanted to publish, I attached the document to an email and sent it home.

Imagine the sense of panic that set in when that same email got blocked by the work email quarantine system. For profanity. This meant that someone from I.T. would have to read the contents of the email and decide whether or not it was appropriate to release it. “Gulp” indeed.

For a while I wondered if the problem of what I should do with my life might have been solved for me, in dramatic fashion. But it seems lady luck was on my side, and a very kind member of the IT crowd released the email, even remarking that it was funny. My first ever review – and a good one! Relief, with a side order of pride.

It is telling of my state of mind that my first thought when this happened was that it would give me something to write about here. What a ridiculous fool I am.

My second thought was that perhaps it would force me into doing something about my situation. I was fairly confident that I wouldn’t be dismissed, but I was worried that there could be repercussions of some sort. I am distinctly aware that what I have written here could be taken badly if read out of context, and without the understanding that at least some of what I write will be embellished for effect.
But it didn't force me to do something, so I haven't. I am nothing if not consistent.

My third thought was for lunch. Because I was hungry, and it was about that time.

Naturally Apathetic

One of my biggest problems is motivation. If struggling to write this has taught me anything, it’s that.

I’m sure I used to have it. I remember doing things in the past. I think I even enjoyed some of them, or, at the very least, gained some sense of accomplishment from them.

I wouldn’t call myself lazy, but, if I’m honest, I would describe myself as naturally apathetic. Which is much better, obviously. But my motivational retardation stretches beyond my innate apathy.

One of the worst side-effects of being stuck in this job is that the unending knock-backs dent your self-confidence, and erode your motivation until, eventually, you’re a drone. Churning out what needs to be done, with little care for the end result, or, more importantly, how you are viewed.

It’s obvious that this becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. The more knock-backs you get, the more disconnected you become, the more knock-backs you get… ad infinitum.

How, then, to break this cycle? I am acutely aware that many people reading this will be thinking along the lines of “Just get off your arse and do something about it”. Which, truth be told, is excellent advice. But the nature of motivational/self-confidence issues is such that getting off your arse and doing something about it is the very bit you struggle with.

But fear not, sympathetic reader, I’ll get there, I’m sure.

I’ve considered simply handing in my notice, acquiring “the fear” which will, it is theorised, boost my motivation and help me to find a new job. But do I really want to be forced into a position where I need to take any job I can get? Whilst I may be wildly unhappy in my current employment, at least it pays well enough and is close to home.

Which leaves the option of finding a job whilst still in gainful employment. This is clearly the best course of action, and yet raises new issues. Do I get a job within my current field of expertise, running the very high risk that I will quickly become bored again, as the interest inherent within a change of location and people wears off? Or do I go for a complete change, chopping in the comfort of knowing what I’m doing with the excitement of a new challenge, and possible career? Undoubtedly this is the more attractive proposition, but it re-raises my original issue of not knowing what I want to do.

Back to the start - Roll opening credits.

Once again it feels like I’m making absolutely no progress in whatever it is I’m trying to do here.

And yet, I’d be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying the process.

Apple of my i

Disaster struck me last night. While attempting to update the software on my popular multimedia 3G mobile telephone (I won’t bow down to sponsorship), it broke. Imagine my distraught. The same phone I use to while away the hours at work with distractions like Rubik’s cube, Words With Friends, Solitaire, Facebook and Twitter.

What the hell was I going to do all day at work?!

I briefly considered taking in an actual Rubik’s cube, Scrabble board, pack of cards and correspondence set, but decided that would be significantly more difficult to conceal (much less carry). I was genuinely concerned.

Apple’s support website brought new meanings to the word useless. Seemingly having support documents and downloads for any number of products… except any actually made by Apple.
Yes, Apple, so it’s obviously an iphone. Drat.

Searching the desolate wastelands that are technical forums, amidst my fellow geeks, I eventually stumbled upon a solution. Basically, I needed to remove any Apple software from my PC, restart and reinstall. It turned out that didn’t just include iTunes (which I had already tried), but a number of other apparently broken Apple sub-programs.

To cut a long story a little bit less long, it worked. My work day was saved, and I could continue in the manner to which I had become accustomed. God bless the geeks of the interweb. It was touch and go though, for a while.

In work-related news, I learned today that the bonus I was promised, but knew deep down would never materialise, will never materialise.

This wouldn’t have been such a blow, if not for the fact that the bonus itself was garnish, at best. In both size and intent. It was nothing more than a pity fuck, to distract me from the reality of my working life, and yet another promotional knockback.

I would say I’m right back where I started, but I haven't really got anywhere yet. So, I guess, more accurate would be “I remain at the start”. Bah.

We are what we eat

Today, in a bid to inject some interest into my working day, I decided to instigate some intellectual debate. And yes, I know there’s an awful lot of ‘I’ words in that sentence, but ironically (there’s another) the thesaurus only suggests OTHER words that begin with ‘I’. Hmph.

“Cous Cous really annoys me!” I proclaimed.

Proof, if needed, that the brain is a muscle (it’s not) and goes weak if underused (it do).

This remark was met with laughter, my colleagues seemingly amazed at the very idea that food could provoke such a reaction.

I find this surprising. It wasn’t long into my adulthood before I realised that almost anything can be annoying (and most of the time is), so why would food be excluded?

For the record, a few of my top food annoyances are...

Cous Cous: The texture! What is it? Not quite rice (or even a Bulgur Wheat, which I can tolerate), not quite sand. It’s like someone has shaved a babycorn. It only tastes acceptable because of the flavours you add to it. Why not add them to something else instead? Like rice. Or bulgur wheat. Or Sand.

Cress: Seriously, what in God’s name is cress for? It must have virtually no nutritional value. It is added to plates and sandwiches as nothing more than a garnish, tastes of nothing when diluted to the quantities you’re likely to consume, and again has a horrible texture. Like eating grass. And frankly, I don’t have the stomachs for it (Do you see? Cows? Eating grass? With the four stomachs to digest it? It’s funny… Oh, shut up).
Although I should point out that while looking up cress, I found this picture, which has amused me no end, and therefore slightly reduced my annoyance.
But then, what sort of worthwhile foodstuff can be cultured in a keyboard?!

Oranges: If ever a food was designed not to be eaten “on the go” (or, arguably, even in public) it’s the orange. I have never seen someone eat one without covering both themselves and whoever/whatever happened to be around them at the time in a citrusy effluent. I wouldn’t mind if the awkward outer casing concealed some delicious inner treat, but no. Oranges, I say, should stick to what they’re good at – juice. Someone has taken the time to pack all the goodness of an orange into a convenient drinkable delivery mechanism. Why persist with the fruit itself? People don’t lead cows around with them for when they fancy the odd bit of milk.
It’s worth noting that I am refusing to end this section with a joke along the lines of “it really does take the pith”. Because I’m better than that. We all are.

So there you have it. Irrefutable evidence that food can be (and in at least three cases is) annoying.

And with that, it seems I can strike Food Critic from the list of potential future careers. One step closer to my goal.

Conspiracy Theory?

A thought struck me today. What if no one knows what they want to do with their lives? And that those that claim to are merely kidding themselves or worse, just plain lying to us. Maybe, as a society we are all pre-conditioned to hate work.

Look at how we’re raised…

I think of myself as having led a fairly typical childhood, for my generation. Boundary-less football matches that lasted for hours, yet only involved six of us on a good day (rush goalies, of course). Several mile long bike rides, the sole purpose of which was not to get us from home to the office (avoiding public transport or parking fees), but simply to ride our bikes, and perhaps, on adventurous days, see a field or woods we’d not seen before. Spending whole afternoons building entire Lego cities, not for one second looking ahead to the inevitable temper-tantrum inducing moment when mum decides to inform me that I need to clear it all away. But muuuum…

Not once did my mother sit me down in front of a computer and say “Son, can you build me a report to these specifications which are, if I’m honest, so vague as to almost guarantee failure?”, or “You seem to know your way around a computer - how do I archive my emails?”, or “Is there a formula for getting the highest number from a range of numbers?”. Neither did she ever force me to engage in trivial quasi-conversations about her evening, or weekend, or children (which would’ve been odd, admittedly, given that I was one of them).
Perhaps if she had introduced me to these things as a child, in a fun way, those associations would have remained, and I would not find them as intolerably loathsome as an adult. But she didn’t, and I do. So thanks for nothing, mum!

But no, of course I know that’s not realistic. Even the 8 year old me would have been able to see that the aforementioned activities cannot be even remotely fun, and I would have rapidly tossed them aside in favour of something more entertaining. Perhaps a Rubik’s Cube.

Just what is it that you want to do?

As I write this I sit at my desk, pondering my lot. Don't get me wrong, I'm not so self-involved to think I have a bad life. I'm just one of those unlucky people who have never known just what it is that they want to do with their lives, and as a result I find myself in a job that neither interests nor challenges me.

Such is the extent of its unchallengeyness (yes, that’s a word now) that the better part of my morning has been spent (successfully) attempting to solve my first ever Rubik’s Cube. On my phone. Presumably my colleagues must think I’m sending an important business text… Or checking Facebook. Almost certainly the business text thing though.

And so it is that, whilst struggling with my virtual Rubik’s Cube, I have decided to expel my general musings here. I am certain that nothing will ever come of this, save for the brief-but-welcome break of the therapeutic process of writing, and the sound of typing, reassuring those around me that I’m actually being productive. The fools. And, more than likely, when I finish writing I’ll simply close this file without saving it. Casting the contents into the ether, no one ever even aware of its existence.

Except, clearly, I didn’t do that. Or you wouldn’t be reading it now, would you. No, it seems I fail at even that small task.

But I digress. Back to the issue at hand. How is it that some people know what it is they want to do? And why is it that I don’t? And, more importantly, how can I acquire such knowledge so that I might start to eek even the tiniest shred of enjoyment out of my working life?

These are the questions that plague me, and ones that I hope to find answers to during the course of this… this, whatever this is. Because it turns out that, unbeknownst to me when I started writing, my ultimate purpose appears to be just that. To find the answers to these questions and, in so doing, find my future, work-content self.

And if any other questions raise themselves along the way, well, I’ll do my best to find some answers to those as well.


Footnote: It seems fate is not without a little irony. Whilst writing this I have received a meeting request (demand) for an all day “workshop” (lecture) entitled “Achieving our full potential”. Indeed.

Presumably, then, it will be a presentation on how we, as an organisation, are going to implode into a vacuum of misplaced self-appreciation, favouritism, incompetence, managerial jargon and general douchebaggery (yes, that’s a word too). I truly cannot wait.

Humble Beginnings

Welcome to my blog. It is something of an experiment for me, so I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to provide feedback!

A little background...
Some time ago, while particularly bored and frustrated, I wrote down some of my thoughts, not entirely sure what their ultimate purpose would be.
I went back to it a few times, making changes, or additions, and after a while I started to feel like I should publish them in some way.
A blog was the obvious choice.

And so here we are. The first few posts will be the stuff I have already written, and then I will be looking to update it as often as I can.

Well, here we go then...