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stupid first world problems you're dealing with


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my writing difficulty has become a problem big enough to jeopardise my chances of career advancement.

 

I hate writing (reports, applications, whatever). I just can't bring myself to do it most of the time. don't know where to start, don't know how to spool out the mass of ideas/information in my head in an organised way, never happy with how it comes out i.e. whether it's good enough or not. the whole process is utterly torturous to me, like shitting boulders, and has become more so over time. this week - or rather, what remains of this week - I have to write an application for a promotion, plus a couple of industry reports, which is more than I can bear. I've been living in a fog of dread & apprehension this past week about when/how it's going to get done.

 

furthermore, my inability to write up shit in a timely way has been noticed over time by management and it's going to fuck with my chances of promotion, in that my bosses are going to note this in my referee reports in a way that suggests I can be generally unreliable, and the panel's impressions of me are going to be negatively skewed because of this one weakness. that's what I fear anyway.

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I'm probably one of the last people to take career advice from, but I remember in my college/uni days we did a 10-minute "free write" exercise at the beginning of each class session for a writing course I was required to take.

I guess what I'm trying to say is practice just writing random shit - the first thoughts that come to mind, and regardless how much sense the content makes or how coherent it is is irrelevant. Maybe play some of your favourite choons and consume caffeine to help loosen up without losing motivation at the same time. But again, this is just practice.

It's natural to feel anxious, but what you think people's impressions of you aren't always what they actually are. Benefit of the doubt maybe. But there might still be a chance to convince your bosses that you're worthy of promotion.

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my writing difficulty has become a problem big enough to jeopardise my chances of career advancement.

 

I hate writing (reports, applications, whatever). I just can't bring myself to do it most of the time. don't know where to start, don't know how to spool out the mass of ideas/information in my head in an organised way, never happy with how it comes out i.e. whether it's good enough or not. the whole process is utterly torturous to me, like shitting boulders, and has become more so over time. this week - or rather, what remains of this week - I have to write an application for a promotion, plus a couple of industry reports, which is more than I can bear. I've been living in a fog of dread & apprehension this past week about when/how it's going to get done.

 

furthermore, my inability to write up shit in a timely way has been noticed over time by management and it's going to fuck with my chances of promotion, in that my bosses are going to note this in my referee reports in a way that suggests I can be generally unreliable, and the panel's impressions of me are going to be negatively skewed because of this one weakness. that's what I fear anyway.

 

I've been suffering from writer's block for a little over a year now - two reports due to finish my master's...blech.

 

If the panel is an interview type setting, just address the weakness head on - say something along the lines of you recognize that your writing is not your strongest aspect of your job performance, but you are working on it blah blah.

Anyways - soldier on - industry reports suck balls.

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I'm probably one of the last people to take career advice from, but I remember in my college/uni days we did a 10-minute "free write" exercise at the beginning of each class session for a writing course I was required to take.

 

I guess what I'm trying to say is practice just writing random shit - the first thoughts that come to mind, and regardless how much sense the content makes or how coherent it is is irrelevant. Maybe play some of your favourite choons and consume caffeine to help loosen up without losing motivation at the same time. But again, this is just practice.

 

It's natural to feel anxious, but what you think people's impressions of you aren't always what they actually are. Benefit of the doubt maybe. But there might still be a chance to convince your bosses that you're worthy of promotion.

 

practicing writing would probably help, actually. I almost never do that, which probably makes it harder when you have to.

 

I've been suffering from writer's block for a little over a year now - two reports due to finish my master's...blech.

 

If the panel is an interview type setting, just address the weakness head on - say something along the lines of you recognize that your writing is not your strongest aspect of your job performance, but you are working on it blah blah.

Anyways - soldier on - industry reports suck balls.

 

my industry reports are actually quality, according to my bosses. I just have a hard time pooping them out. I usually end up pulling all-nighters at my desk.

Edited by usagi
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my writing difficulty has become a problem big enough to jeopardise my chances of career advancement.

 

I hate writing (reports, applications, whatever). I just can't bring myself to do it most of the time. don't know where to start, don't know how to spool out the mass of ideas/information in my head in an organised way, never happy with how it comes out i.e. whether it's good enough or not. the whole process is utterly torturous to me, like shitting boulders, and has become more so over time. this week - or rather, what remains of this week - I have to write an application for a promotion, plus a couple of industry reports, which is more than I can bear. I've been living in a fog of dread & apprehension this past week about when/how it's going to get done.

 

furthermore, my inability to write up shit in a timely way has been noticed over time by management and it's going to fuck with my chances of promotion, in that my bosses are going to note this in my referee reports in a way that suggests I can be generally unreliable, and the panel's impressions of me are going to be negatively skewed because of this one weakness. that's what I fear anyway.

 

Everyone has a different starting point. Do you start at the beginning? Perhaps write up your conclusions first and then work your way back, explaining why your conclusion is so in reverse. Or merely write short sections of your report, and then collate all those sections into one whole, tied off neatly with an intro and conclusion. Often finding a different way through the maze lifts the stress so much like you wouldn't believe.

 

Or perhaps you could install a speech-to-text program, rattle out your thoughts for a while into the program and then edit down your monologue into something becoming of a report. Are you better at talking about your data/info than writing it? That could be a way through, which would also negate the writing aspect (up to a point). Or hire a secretary...

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Been feeling a bit down since the start of the week and I should be doing a report for a course I'm on but I just really don't fancy doing it at the moment. More sitting here and feeling sorry for myself I guess.

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I want to start working out again but the cycle of life is making this difficult. I looked damn good like 18 months ago and now I just look skinny with some secret flab. Shits wack

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Apparently there's like a switch that flips on at a point in your mid-thirties, and from then on much of your life will be devoted to developing an effective nosehair management protocol.

Edited by baph
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I hate writing (reports, applications, whatever). I just can't bring myself to do it most of the time. don't know where to start, don't know how to spool out the mass of ideas/information in my head in an organised way, never happy with how it comes out i.e. whether it's good enough or not. the whole process is utterly torturous to me, like shitting boulders

 

Ugh, I can relate with this. Luckily my work doesn't involve writing, but essays and stories in college were always painful. Usually got top marks on them, but that's only because I spent 5 times longer than any reasonable person would. I can't even imagine writing a 50 page thesis. That's like several years worth of words for me. My language is muuuusic maaaaaan.

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nose, ears and random places all over your face.....welcome to the aging process ;) .....(especially for black-haired whitehs like meself)

 

Apparently there's like a switch that flips on at a point in your mid-thirties, and from then on much of your life will be devoted to developing an effective nosehair management protocol.

 

ps: there are gazillions of device to whizz over these cunts, vroom-vroom,,,,,,,,,,,

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nose, ears and random places all over your face.....welcome to the aging process ;) .....(especially for black-haired whitehs like meself)

 

Apparently there's like a switch that flips on at a point in your mid-thirties, and from then on much of your life will be devoted to developing an effective nosehair management protocol.

 

ps: there are gazillions of device to whizz over these cunts, vroom-vroom,,,,,,,,,,,

 

 

I tried one that didn't work. I have now ordered the Groom Mate Platinum XL. It has to be good, because it's called "Platinum XL"

Edited by baph
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Horrible food poisoning

Did you have to go to the emergency room and have IVs hooked up, and did you go sky diving less than 48 hours later?

 

Otherwise it's not real food poisoning.

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i can get close to that

 

flew a plane once (flying lesson booked by an ex), but on the morning of this thing said-ex refused to get out of bed, slept in late (while yours truly was doing errands) and didnt make any breakfast - "its fiiiiiiine, theres a drive-thru 60secs from here". Ended up her force feeding me maccy-d's and fizzy bubbling diet coke while blasting up I-95 averaging 90mph thinking what if VA/MD state polis revoke my visa from speeding etc etc, while also trying to save this mission from the brink of fail. As we pull into the car-park the burping starts. Its blowing a gale, but all around are reassuring clear pale blue empty january skies, so we jog over to reception. Food burps increasing nowwww, while signing sketchily vague insurance documents & thinking "am i signing away various liabilities here?". And then, b4 you know it, myself, cunta kinty & the pilot are out on the tarmac, inspecting this fragile looking geriatric moth of a frame. By now, the wind is howling thru the cables & fencing round this place and i can see this bloke visibly weighing things up as he talks us through the gear. You'd know that look if you saw it too.... furrowed brow, seemed "distracted", he's scanning around the airfield every other sentence like a flashbackin 'Nam vet. Anyway, we climb into the plane. Earphones on and the pilot monologue starts "shnoo shnee shnoo shnaww frrrrrnn cllllldd ssssss sssssstttt vvvvvvvv", cos all i know is my guts are doing cartwheels to the point where i feel like things are definitely going to projectile or involve something far far worse as my bowels start to spasm. Too late MF, we're buckled up & taxiing down the runway with a mind flooded with hate & nausea and b4 i know we're up up up, sideway this way, then that, the world opening up from altitude and i look across at the pilot and his expression was pure, 150% "overt" concentration. "Shnoo shnah shnee shnoo, frrrrppp, taladaga flagga jagga, thats it you gawt eeeeiiit" .......WTF..........I'VE GOT THE CONTROLS? WHEN? THIS CANT BE HAPPENING, JESUS CHRISTUS..........then the 1st eggy cabbage & sulphur fart leaks out of me and floods the cabin. I can see the pilot filling with disgust and a voice behind me squeaks "thats just wrong hunny...." ..... WOMAN, ITS COS OF YOU THAT,,,,,,,,,,,the whole time we're being metaphorically battered by the swirling forces of nature outside and my ever dissolving stomach.

 

In a nutshell, i spent the next 50/60mins fighting off wave after wave of hard hard puke cramps, until eventually managing somehow to more quietly than any human has ever done wretch bile and mcdonalds down the inside of my high necked jacket - "you ok there buddy, looking pretty pale?", and i could feel the broken cold sweat clamming all over my skin. Too late, we're all going to die.

 

Eventually, we get back to the airfield & i head straight for the loo, peel off my coat, scrape off the chunder, get in the cubicle, pull down my kegs and you dont need to know the rest.

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Reading about mortgages, first time buying etcetera...and I'm bored out of my mind. The market and buying a place that isn't really yours and so on seems sort of pointless, and tiring. Too much paperwork...

 

Any alternate living options? I'm tempted to buy a canal boat and live on that. There's a mooring right outside where I work. And I can watch the ducks float past. Heck, if another country is cheap enough I could pack up and move on. Greece?

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