It's too early in the morning. It's too early to think poetically. It's even too early to determine how I feel. It's not too early for coffee.
I love my coffee. If there's one thing I don't fancy ever giving up it's coffee. I'd probably give up sex before I'd give up coffee.
I had my first full cup when I was seven years old. No sugar. No milk. I was hooked and that's how I drunk my coffee up until I was 22 years old and husband no. 1 nagged me into putting milk into it. Nowadays I favor a cappuccino in the morning, or several in fact. I even froth milk at work. I've had to cut down on the caffeine though because of stupid depression.
I don't think my love affair with coffee will ever end.
I'm performance managing my senior writer and we have our first weekly meeting today with HR to see how he's done this week. It's not looking good. A three page document full of passive voice sentences, product names that are bastardized versions of what Marketing dictates we use and formatting that is nothing like the one in our style guide.
I feel despair. I feel like this performance management is a foregone conclusion. It's making me feel shittier than normal. I could never be an an executioner. I would have to constantly apologize to those I'm executing and I would constantly wonder if I was doing the right thing, if the punishment fitted the crime and if there hadn't perhaps been a miscarriage of justice.
This is obviously why I'm a technical writer and I do a job in which I can carefully craft document with the user in mind in the vain hope that someone will actually refer to the manual. It happens. I'm sure of it. It has to. Please tell me it does!
Do you ever read the manuals for things you buy?
My mother has Alzeheimer's. Over the course of six months I have watched from a distance how my mother seems to be disappearing bit...
How serious is this shit? May seem odd to you that I'm asking that but I'm serious about it. How serious is this shit? I bought a ...
When life’s kicked you in the head the first thing you need to do is resist the urge to hit back. Turn the other cheek. “Like fuck!” you say...
I post hopelessly infrequently here. I feel a little bad about it, I have to tell you, because when I check the stats, and I actually do t...