the hang of thursdays
Mar. 5th, 2009 08:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
radfrac_archive_fullAlso forgot to budget for library fines.
Oh this week.
[Spoken in the indulgent tone of a spouse married to someone whose gambling problem has not yet, though it will shortly, revealed its dire extent, and whose impulse control issues still seem charmingly rogueish.]
This mad, crazy, lovable, bastard week. And there's still a day left in it, though it's only a Friday. A Friday is not like all the other days in a week. A Friday can be borne because it portends a Saturday and a Sunday. And in my case it ought to portend a scholastic Monday.
[I hate working through Monday when it's supposed to be my school day. Then I'm tired the rest of the week, so I take bites out of my other days, and end up with no day off and not enough hours over to show decent money for my sacrifice. Also, no one notices, no one cares. Sob.
I have a budget now, though, and a weekly target for hours, and so I am showing more discipline.]
I'm not a very good manager. Having little experience, less inclination, and no training whatsoever for the task, I'm not sure how I come to be supervising six people. I'm not doing it very well -- I never can bring myself to reprimand people, so though my self-discipline has improved markedly of late, my ability to impose discipline on others is still sadly deficient.
Here is why this task I dislike is good for me: though I am not good at it now, I am being stretched out of shape, like the skin of a balloon when you blow it up. When you let the air out -- in the vast sigh I will heave when this trial of mine ends -- the balloon returns, more or less, to its original size and shape. However, as you know, it will be easier to blow it up again next time.
The next time I come to do a task like this -- when I have to tell students that their noteless late papers will not be marked, say -- I'll rememeber how it felt to take this shape, and I will be slightly less crappy at it than otherwise.
That's my hope, anyway. Though, too, my walls may be sadly weakened. Some things shouldn't be puffed up out of shape. Egos. Hearts.
Do you think once we've tasted arrogance it's easier to become arrogant again the next time? I wonder. I think it goes the other way. Once humbled, it's easier to find my way back to humility.
luckily I have much experience of the shape of utter tool.
{rf}
Oh this week.
[Spoken in the indulgent tone of a spouse married to someone whose gambling problem has not yet, though it will shortly, revealed its dire extent, and whose impulse control issues still seem charmingly rogueish.]
This mad, crazy, lovable, bastard week. And there's still a day left in it, though it's only a Friday. A Friday is not like all the other days in a week. A Friday can be borne because it portends a Saturday and a Sunday. And in my case it ought to portend a scholastic Monday.
[I hate working through Monday when it's supposed to be my school day. Then I'm tired the rest of the week, so I take bites out of my other days, and end up with no day off and not enough hours over to show decent money for my sacrifice. Also, no one notices, no one cares. Sob.
I have a budget now, though, and a weekly target for hours, and so I am showing more discipline.]
I'm not a very good manager. Having little experience, less inclination, and no training whatsoever for the task, I'm not sure how I come to be supervising six people. I'm not doing it very well -- I never can bring myself to reprimand people, so though my self-discipline has improved markedly of late, my ability to impose discipline on others is still sadly deficient.
Here is why this task I dislike is good for me: though I am not good at it now, I am being stretched out of shape, like the skin of a balloon when you blow it up. When you let the air out -- in the vast sigh I will heave when this trial of mine ends -- the balloon returns, more or less, to its original size and shape. However, as you know, it will be easier to blow it up again next time.
The next time I come to do a task like this -- when I have to tell students that their noteless late papers will not be marked, say -- I'll rememeber how it felt to take this shape, and I will be slightly less crappy at it than otherwise.
That's my hope, anyway. Though, too, my walls may be sadly weakened. Some things shouldn't be puffed up out of shape. Egos. Hearts.
Do you think once we've tasted arrogance it's easier to become arrogant again the next time? I wonder. I think it goes the other way. Once humbled, it's easier to find my way back to humility.
luckily I have much experience of the shape of utter tool.
{rf}
