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Analyst/Danger Money etc.
Thursday, February 6th, 2014 11:36 amFollowing on from my post earlier in the week, my subconscious is at it again!
Last night I had a variation of the classic anxiety dream in which you find yourself woefully unprepared for something you knew was coming. It wasn’t actually as anxiety inducing as they can be, but the message was there.
I already know that I am going to have to pull a couple of late shifts on Monday and Tuesday next week. The tube strikes have really limited my options so they will have to do. There is no point staying late tonight because I shan’t be able to guarantee getting home at a reasonable time (though yesterday’s homeward travel was much less of an ordeal than was coming into the office). I really cannot cope with the hassle of five hours’ strike and other disruption induced commute sandwiching a full day of work.
I don’t care if that makes me a wimp; it’s bad enough losing the usual 2½ to 3 hours.
Anyway: reduced time available because of the strike, tomorrow travelling up to Shropshire to see my poorly Mum and only sporadic support from my lackey who at best is only in the office three days a week, but who has been burning off unexpected days’ leave left right and centre recently (following on from six or seven weeks of sickness leading up to Christmas), I am running to stand still here. And to add insult to injury, I confess to being completely unable to navigate my way around my predecessor’s archive and I haven’t been here long enough to build much of one of my own. There is no doubt that he knew the job inside and out, but his approach to digital record-keeping is… idiosyncratic.
I like to label folders and files so it is a clear as I can make it what they each contain. I keep chancing upon potentially useful information in places I wouldn’t expect to look for it and huge gaps in folders that suggest that they should have the information. It is no use to me to find files labelled ‘e-mail (date)’ especially when you open it and it just says something like ‘thanks for getting back to me so soon’.
I think that last night’s anxiety dream was cutting me some slack by being so low key.
Last night I had a variation of the classic anxiety dream in which you find yourself woefully unprepared for something you knew was coming. It wasn’t actually as anxiety inducing as they can be, but the message was there.
I already know that I am going to have to pull a couple of late shifts on Monday and Tuesday next week. The tube strikes have really limited my options so they will have to do. There is no point staying late tonight because I shan’t be able to guarantee getting home at a reasonable time (though yesterday’s homeward travel was much less of an ordeal than was coming into the office). I really cannot cope with the hassle of five hours’ strike and other disruption induced commute sandwiching a full day of work.
I don’t care if that makes me a wimp; it’s bad enough losing the usual 2½ to 3 hours.
Anyway: reduced time available because of the strike, tomorrow travelling up to Shropshire to see my poorly Mum and only sporadic support from my lackey who at best is only in the office three days a week, but who has been burning off unexpected days’ leave left right and centre recently (following on from six or seven weeks of sickness leading up to Christmas), I am running to stand still here. And to add insult to injury, I confess to being completely unable to navigate my way around my predecessor’s archive and I haven’t been here long enough to build much of one of my own. There is no doubt that he knew the job inside and out, but his approach to digital record-keeping is… idiosyncratic.
I like to label folders and files so it is a clear as I can make it what they each contain. I keep chancing upon potentially useful information in places I wouldn’t expect to look for it and huge gaps in folders that suggest that they should have the information. It is no use to me to find files labelled ‘e-mail (date)’ especially when you open it and it just says something like ‘thanks for getting back to me so soon’.
I think that last night’s anxiety dream was cutting me some slack by being so low key.