During a particularly difficult work conversation many many years ago, my somewhat prissy and process focussed boss spent five minutes articulating pomposity as an art form. Before finishing up with “your biggest problem is you are not a completer/finisher“.
No it wasn’t. I had two bigger problems than whatever the fuck that means. Firstly, I was properly brought up not to face-slap a women however much their smug, sanctimonious bearing twitches the fist of death and, secondly, I needed to pay a new mortgage about 1% more than firing out a resignation barrage ending with”Why don’t you just stick your completer-finisher up your fat arse. You’ll be needing to take your head out of it first”.
She also accused me of being – in no particular order – lazy, wasteful of what little talent I had, obstructive, mule headed, difficult, loud and generally insubordinate and lacking in respect. I TREASURE that appraisal, God I’ve so sold out. Anyway this is probably why I find myself with 13 unfinished articles. Two of which I promised for magazines back when paper was the kind of novelty that’d get your head stoved in by angry tablet makers.
But until someone – and I’d suggest a process driven individual with a penchant for detail task management* – turns down the ‘stuff happening’ meter, it’s difficult to see how the odd amusing sentence or two is going to be dragged into the published world**.
So I need your help. It’s about you bloody put something back rather than just participating in this group therapy experiment. So given the choice, which of these would you rather tut over your morning coffee***
1) A whine about what happens when starting running after ten years meets the reason you stopped
2) What to do when your satellite navigation rings. Apart from narrowly avoiding crashing, while spluttering “woooah fucking aliens are right in here with me”
3) Commuting: The view from a hut. Jeez, that’s almost as dull as it sounds
4) Local dialect. The Western Debrett etiquette correct response on being asked if one wishes to “grapple with my ball joint”
5) A random line from each.
6) Nothing. Just STFU. It’s just you and your imaginary friends you know. Blogs are barely one step up from sidling up to random blokes in a pub and telling them what you had for breakfast.
It’s 6 isn’t it? Thanks for letting me down gently 😉
* You’re dull. Get over it.
** Except for those two articles. They’re finished. Just need a final polish. Honestly.
*** Other beverages are available. Tea for Northerners. Something fresh, fruity and blended with hedgehog sperm**** for the southern metrosexuals and vodka for those of us facing a tough day.
**** Quite tricky to extract. Allegedly.