The eleventh draft of a proprietary document I spent weeks writing, locked under a legally-binding non-disclosure agreement, was 3,573 words. The twelfth draft was 3,676 words. Less than 10 people will ever have a need to read, or even skim through, that document. Once this gig’s up, it may reside somewhere for historical purposes, or it may be destroyed. I still took the same pride in placing my name to this document as anything I’ve written here. Why?
Passing another year of sobriety- five years in March– let’s consider how the Gig Life has both reassured and risked that progress. The biggest aid is that I’m almost legally prevented from getting too invested in any gig; I’d have to bill for that time. The biggest ailment is the grit that comes from jumping into projects in the yellow or red. Contractors are never needed when big projects or workloads are in the green.
Clutter kills creativity. When you’re working on any project, your momentum can easily be distracted by the time you spent looking for a tool or that note you took. I have a constant need for things to occupy certain spaces – it’s compulsive really – so curbing the clutter on my couch counter should cut down on distraction. This is my primary writing area, after all. I can then apply this mindset to other clutter prone areas.
This series, examining the roots of everyday situations called Applied Psychology, arose from my nickname for the technical support field. We signed up for the idea of working on computers. What most didn’t realize was that it’s all, and not mostly, about working on the people that use these computers. We’re like casual psychologists, fixing behavior problems before addressing the technical side of the issue. Let’s muse on some ideas for resolving minor nontechnical anxieties.
I’ve noticed an increase over the recent years in the number of times I’ve been sick. It’s never an incapacitation as much as general realizations that I’m just not at peak performance. When I’m well, I have fast reflexes, write frequently, and overall life is good. When I’m not, my reflexes are terrible, I don’t write, and I’m cantankerous. Identifying the root cause could fix it next time… I haven’t figured it out this time.
“Thirty minutes left…”
“What? Oh, that’s bad!”
The timer ticked down mercilessly. The temperature rose steadily as the two engineers assessed the situation. They were trying to figure out how to dismantle a device that in now twenty-two minutes was scheduled to complete. It wasn’t ready. The device couldn’t launch in that condition. Panic started to set in. They were trained expertly in building and fixing devices, yet here they were, with twenty minutes left.