mardi, septembre 20, 2005
donne-moi ton coeur baby
I did a bit of a download blitz the other day. First I checked some global music charts, then started torrenting (can I say that?). One album I'm a new fan of is one called Va Best of Disco 2005. I was looking for a link and it appears that this album is a mainly Czech product (I did find it on a Prague-ian music chart), so no english links, except to more torrent sites. Anyway, there are some catchy dance remixes like the Global Deejays version of "What a Feeling" from Flashdance. Fun tunes. Another good one is "Femme Like U" by K-Maro (a mostly French song). One album I was kinda disappointed in is Gwen Stefani. She's only got a couple songs that I like - her singles, I think, because they sound familiar. Anyway, I've got lots of good new jogging music.
I was mad at work today. It's getting to be a fairly frequent emotion, actually, because I simply can't take the stress of working at this pace anymore. Just because I'm capable of doing eight things at once doesn't mean I want to, for EVERY MINUTE OF EVERY DAY. Today I said something to Boss about it being an unsustainable pace, and he says something about how he's been doing it for 25 years. That was just infuriating, because I've seen how much "work" he does. Stacey and I have been busting our butts for a solid month of chaos, and he's been out fishing, golfing, schmoozing, etc. He thinks we had an easy month, and mentioned the other day that things were going to pick up and we'd be operating at full capacity. Yikes, man. Sure, he brings in the deals - he's quite the charmer to his clients when he wants to be - but Stacey handles the bulk of the work on his files, and that means that I do, too. She's only 27 and is still learning a lot herself; it pisses me off that he waltzes in at the last minute to find fault with her work or smooth out deals so effortlessly. If he would just be more involved to begin with we wouldn't have to be in the frenzy that we are constantly. I'm fed up with it. It's not that I don't want to work hard; it's that I don't want to work hard every friggin' day.
Okay, that's my rant. I'm off to jog.
I can have it all, now I'm dancing for my life
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¶ 8:46 p.m. 
I was mad at work today. It's getting to be a fairly frequent emotion, actually, because I simply can't take the stress of working at this pace anymore. Just because I'm capable of doing eight things at once doesn't mean I want to, for EVERY MINUTE OF EVERY DAY. Today I said something to Boss about it being an unsustainable pace, and he says something about how he's been doing it for 25 years. That was just infuriating, because I've seen how much "work" he does. Stacey and I have been busting our butts for a solid month of chaos, and he's been out fishing, golfing, schmoozing, etc. He thinks we had an easy month, and mentioned the other day that things were going to pick up and we'd be operating at full capacity. Yikes, man. Sure, he brings in the deals - he's quite the charmer to his clients when he wants to be - but Stacey handles the bulk of the work on his files, and that means that I do, too. She's only 27 and is still learning a lot herself; it pisses me off that he waltzes in at the last minute to find fault with her work or smooth out deals so effortlessly. If he would just be more involved to begin with we wouldn't have to be in the frenzy that we are constantly. I'm fed up with it. It's not that I don't want to work hard; it's that I don't want to work hard every friggin' day.
Okay, that's my rant. I'm off to jog.
I can have it all, now I'm dancing for my life
|
¶ 8:46 p.m.
