It’s all pretty close to resistible, if you ask me. And no one is.
I might have won last week, but this week definitely erased any feelings of “life is good and I’m going to be OK.”
Work avalanche this week. Or, as measured by this miserable time last year, still a light few days.
Today I’m pretty much going to have to kill myself. And then on top of everything — when everyone knows not to tease the animals on a Friday because it’s the hardest, busiest day of the week — I get another fucking standing meeting slapped on my calendar.
And when these people put a half-hour meeting on your calendar, you can count on it to run about 75 minutes long.
I proposed a half-hour timeslot midweek, before one of our other 15 standing meetings, so we could do it on a day when I have time to prepare/participate and also before it runs into another meeting so I’m not stopping-and-starting. (Also, the hard time limit.)
I lose this one. Like everything else.
But I keep telling myself, if meetings are higher priority than meeting deadlines, welp. Maybe I should take the cue.
Earlier this week I short-circuited because I had to rush to launch two projects. And that means certain things weren’t ready for launch, so I could meet these deadlines.
After all, I’m always told, “You can reduce the quality if that means you can produce more.”
I wouldn’t say the quality was reduced. But certain concessions were certainly made.
The response?
“Well, why didn’t you do all those other things you’re saving for Phase II?”
Implied: “Get them done, Failure.”
I don’t mind working. I don’t mind working late. I DO mind that my health is unraveling and I’m weepy and tired and Can’t Take One More Thing right now.
And then I heard all the new work I’m taking on in the next fiscal quarter. And I’m seeing that this new launch is going to inconvenience no one … BUT ME. Like to the tune of having to be at work an hour earlier each day.
It’s all pretty close to resistible, if you ask me. And no one is.