“I WILL kill him!” “I WILL find you!” “I WILL get organized!”

Okay, so the last one is me, not Sting or Daniel Day-Lewis.

I had my performance review today. Basically, I am a great employee when I show up with my best self. I already know this. I didn’t tell them that I don’t want to do what I do, that I don’t want to be what I am professionally when I grow up. I want to be something else. I just meekly agreed. Keep your head down, Seer. Be glad you still have a job–that’s how I felt.

I was also informed that I have “time management problems.” Yeah. I didn’t say I shouldn’t be blogging or writing or reading at 11:30 at night. I said I need to subscribe to a system. So I bought Getting Things Done by David Allen, since all these people have a hard on for it, and got a Nirvana account. It seems like it could help me. Sure; why not. I always get all motivated after I pick up something new. Change! Change will help. I’ll change everything! That’s the solution. Then it gets tarnished and old and I’m still me and uninspired and nothing’s better. No, but it won’t happen this time.

I was also grateful that my gurgley tummy kept relatively quiet throughout the whole thing. I very nearly had a messy, messy time in the toilet right before the whole appointment. For reals for reals, this deal has had me seriously stressing. I have not been impressed with my performance the past year. I would have given myself a serious talking to. But I avoided one. Don’t know how I dodged that bullet, but I’m not questioning it. I’m just organizing the confusion that is my life.

Yet again, I’m way harder on myself than other people are on me. I just see myself through a really dirty, warped lens. What I see as completely fucked up, unacceptable behavior just isn’t that bad. I need to give myself a break. Get off the cross, Seer–we need the wood.

Let’s get things done! Really, let’s. I have hundreds of emails to go through in both my work and home accounts. I have hella projects to do. Something must be done. I’m tired of feeling like there’s always something nagging at me, like my free time isn’t always free. Then again, there is the thrill of stealing time. My ass might miss that. Small price to pay, though, for knowing I have nothing to worry about come review time next year.



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