Strange conversation we had last week, eh? Me trying to get your attention, you ignoring me as much as possible. Oh well, I'm sure it was great entertainment for the neighbours, and it gave us the opportunity to air a few concerns.
If I remember correctly, it was a beautiful day and the sun was shining. I know you saw our two blue boxes because during the course of our conversation, you told me so. True, there were those two piles of dirt on the street in front of them, but we didn't put them there - and they weren't there when we put the boxes out early that morning.
From my standpoint, you had three choices.
1. You could have walked 6 feet around the back of one pile, pick up the first bin, keep walking to pick up the second bin, take both to the truck, empty them, and leave them right there on the curb.
2. You could have walked around the back of one pile, then around the front of the second pile, taking the bins one at a time and emptying them.
3. You could have walked through the middle of the two piles where there was a clear path, and picked up both bins before taking them to the truck.
Unfortunately, you decided the whole situation was our fault and chose to leave both where they were, even though they were easily accessible and full to the brim with recycled matter.
When I saw the situation, I had three choices.
1. Ignore you and let you go on your way, then take the bins to the local recycle spot.
2. Call the city and complain, even though it would have meant dealing with the ridiculous 311 line.
3. Run out into the street and insist you come back and do your job.
Unfortunately, I chose #3, replaced "insist" with "yelling", which led to a bit of name calling on both our parts, me apologising for name calling and yelling, you saying bins only get picked up if they're on the curb, me saying they were on the curb, you saying that missing a few bins wasn't your problem, me asking if you were paid to make it your problem, you complaining you had hundreds of thousands of bins to pick up and you couldn't go back for only two, me shaking my head as you tossed the bins to the ground, and you yelling "Have a nice day!" in the kind of voice that suggested you didn't really mean it.
The sad part of it all is that in our respective desire to win the conversation, neither of us noticed that the bins on the other side of the street hadn't been picked up yet. That would have given each of us an option:
1. I could have simply put them over there for you to pick up later.
2. You could have suggested from your position down the street that I put them over them for you to pick up later.
Unfortunately, we chose ignoring and yelling over civil and courteous behaviour. What a shame.
Anyway, I don't know about you, but I'd rather not do that again next week - the neighbours don't need the entertainment, and neither you nor I need or deserve the angst.
Signed, an otherwise grateful Blue Box user.
PS While I was writing this blog, a friend posted an appropriate sentiment on my Facebook page: "I am thankful for the difficult people in my life. They have shown me exactly who I don't want to be." Hmmm. To which one of us do you think this applies?!
Monday, March 26, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Learning the hard way
I can do things. Tie my shoelaces, drive a car, edit books, keep deadlines, remember birthdays, write, take photos, and deliver interesting speeches.
There are lots of things I can't do. Cook, graphic design, and brain surgery, to name just a few of the many I could put here.
And there is one thing I do do that, as I learned the hard way, has major repercussions.
It's called overtasking - when the list of duties becomes so overwhelming that you wake up one day simultaneously wondering and panicking, "What the hey? How did this happen? And what do I do now?"
To be sure, this is a slow creep, occurring over time and without anyone actually noticing. In my case, and in this particular situation, it was brought about by picking up tasks left wanting because the people doing them either moved, took another job, retired or burned out, or were in fact never told it was something they should or could be doing in the first place.
And that's not all. It's also the result of me being a little too protective of my charges, overenthusiastic about my responsibilities, quick to take on new tasks to fix a particular situation that has arisen or might arise at some point down the line, and/or doing more, way more, than the situation required.
As a result, there is now, quite simply, too much on my plate, most of which I probably shouldn't even be doing. And because I'm focused on moving in a new direction and succeeding in some different pursuits, I need to take back much of the time otherwise committed to the repercussions of that slow creep, and thereby regain some control over my today.
In other words, it's time to let something go.
Exactly what had to go became obvious after tracking time spent on everything over a two-month period. With the answer staring me in the face, and the realisation slowly sinking in, it was nevertheless a tough decision, albeit definitely the right one. For better or for worse, it will take some time to stick, but it is already in play.
I learned the hard way that allowing slow creep to monopolise your time and ambitions doesn't get you anywhere. So, look at it from my point of view and stop the creep before it stops you.
Now, that's something we can all do!
There are lots of things I can't do. Cook, graphic design, and brain surgery, to name just a few of the many I could put here.
And there is one thing I do do that, as I learned the hard way, has major repercussions.
It's called overtasking - when the list of duties becomes so overwhelming that you wake up one day simultaneously wondering and panicking, "What the hey? How did this happen? And what do I do now?"
To be sure, this is a slow creep, occurring over time and without anyone actually noticing. In my case, and in this particular situation, it was brought about by picking up tasks left wanting because the people doing them either moved, took another job, retired or burned out, or were in fact never told it was something they should or could be doing in the first place.
And that's not all. It's also the result of me being a little too protective of my charges, overenthusiastic about my responsibilities, quick to take on new tasks to fix a particular situation that has arisen or might arise at some point down the line, and/or doing more, way more, than the situation required.
As a result, there is now, quite simply, too much on my plate, most of which I probably shouldn't even be doing. And because I'm focused on moving in a new direction and succeeding in some different pursuits, I need to take back much of the time otherwise committed to the repercussions of that slow creep, and thereby regain some control over my today.
In other words, it's time to let something go.
Exactly what had to go became obvious after tracking time spent on everything over a two-month period. With the answer staring me in the face, and the realisation slowly sinking in, it was nevertheless a tough decision, albeit definitely the right one. For better or for worse, it will take some time to stick, but it is already in play.
I learned the hard way that allowing slow creep to monopolise your time and ambitions doesn't get you anywhere. So, look at it from my point of view and stop the creep before it stops you.
Now, that's something we can all do!