The Myth That Is Productivity

To give you the context, my job does not require me to work hard all the time. We observe peaks and off peaks in relation to the earnings season. Earnings, meaning, when publicly listed companies and private companies with public debt profiles report their quarterly or half-year earning results.  And quarterly peaks don’t last a quarter. Of course, you should have gotten that already because of my first statement.  Peak usually is a month to a month and a half long, including ramp up and down. When I say we work hard, I mean, 15-minute breaks forgotten, meals eaten on the station, pre- and post-shift OT required (oh yeah, that’s how you do the hyphen), RDOTs taken advantage of and restroom break is a luxury.

Before you judge my company as a slave driver, let me balance the picture by telling you the fabulous life we have during off peak. They usually give us holiday offs during this time, 15 total in a year, exclusive of our 15 vacation leaves. Hardly no conferences to be transcribed so we go batshit crazy on the internet. Although sometimes they give us mundane tasks like do call research on companies that we don’t have to do research anymore. Sad to say, our workforce managers don’t really have the skill to think of appropriate tasks for us. And so during this time, productivity seems to be mythical, in constrast to productivity being legendary during peak.

When I got to the office today, I did not have an assigned task at all. I went through all my mails first. Cleaned my inboxes. Yes, plural. Cluttered inboxes is my equivalent of not taking my vitamins when I was a kid. It just gnaws at me and I could not wait for the next day so I could get my next dose to make up for it. After the inboxes are taken of — wait, is inboxes a real word? How about you take care of that, mate? So then I check on my Twitter and FB page, check updates, unsuscribe, like, judge, retweet and judge some more. Twitter is helpful because it practically makes my list of news to read for the day, mostly from Huffington Post and Rappler. My daily holy hour is reading on Huffington Post with a bit of Rappler now, since Red* introduced it to me. This I have to do otherwise I just feel disconnected to the world. I can’t do CNN because it’s too cluttered. Reuters is okay but mostly for financial news, and yes, Reuters is competitor of the company I work for. Well, a wise man once said, keep your enemies closer. So Huffington Post as I was saying, although they have a lot of nonsense articles, believe me they do have a lot of those slow-day-at-the-newsroom types, but thanks to Twitter who eliminates them for me, is a not-too-noisy online newspaper. I like their layout. Rappler is even better. And Huffington has a lot of truly great bloggers.

So once I felt like I am so one with the world, I was reminded by my supervisor to review the key number errors on transcripts I have worked on, which I did, but not before posting a teeny bit on here. Then I was thoroughly reviewing my KNEs, you cannot possibly imagine how high I get for every error I could overturn, know what I mean? Here’s the thing. Thetranscript I edit gets proofed and then I get errors for incorrect numbers entered, which sucks big time because no one appreciates being told you’re wrong when you think you’re right, unless you’re a retard, which I don’t think a retard would even admit. Okay, that was shit. But you get the picture right? Wow, these KNEs really get to me. So errors, check, audio, check docs, argue points, fill out templates, submit to God, God being the auditors here at work.

Then my supervisor IMed me and told me that the workforce managers are assigning research tasks on newly added companies. I don’t mind that at all. Let me get this straight, I just look like I don’t like what’s happening around me most of the time, but actually I’m a pretty straight individual. You pay me to work, I’ll do it. Well, not that clear cut but you get it. And I love research. Actually, I love my job. I’m very lucky I got this one and I’ll be working here for almost three years now and I still like what I’m doing, mostly because I learn something new everyday. Part of the package. But then this research task given by WFM stinks. They’re not new companies added to our coverage as they have claimed. Nothing new with them at all. So that leaves me with a lot of time to kill.

You can only go to the bathroom so many times before you get accused of a serious urinary tract infection or of being gay. And there are only a handful of discount-giving online sites you could check. I don’t play online games. I have very poor hand to eye coordination. I can’t play music the whole time because I’m afraid my ears would get so infested with bacteria that I’d lose them. I checked my e-books and the ones left are by Ayn Rand and Salman Rushdie, not exactly appealing at the moment. Can I download Mills & Boon’s e-books for free? I’ll ask our Download God tomorrow. Maybe he can help me.

Maybe I should write a to-do list like decent people do, even it only says, do nothing, at least I’d get to cross it out.

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I Want To Do You

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I think I got the idea from James Altucher about string of words that could generate Google traffic over to your blog, and this one is a cheap shot. Nah. I just wanna post something before I take on my work today, review key number errors on transcripts I’ve worked on since May 6.

I’m not proscrastinating. How dare you? Just a bit doesn’t count, does it? This is not major delaying tactic. It’s not like the country’s sovereign rating is going to drop 3 notches if I finish this first or inflation would surge. Wow, how about being redundant.

Fine, fine. I’m outta here. Laters.

A Rose By Any Other Name

Your name should not be tacky, not too special but not too generic either. Yes, I mean you. No kidding, I’m already thinking of an appropriate name for you. Yes, I’m referring to what I should call you. Too soon, eh? I know, I know. I have barely started this thing and I’m already fantasizing about my so-called readers. Let’s just say, I want to be ready when that time comes. Mate? Mate it is then.

And yes, that was a photo of the delusion of grandeur.

Here Goes

I would very much like to congratulate myself for finally stepping on the yellow platform edge. When I was in college and almost everyone I know was blogging, I found myself not too inclined. I was not exactly a fan of the idea of publicizing one’s diary. That was how pretentious I was – is, and may I say, judgemental? Then came the revolutionary Facebook and Twitter, and practically everything changed, But it would be too simplistic to say that the proliferation of the so-called social networking sites and/or microblogging is what got me started. This has been long overdue. I have long wanted to write on a regular basis but kept procrastinating which was way too easy since I have already earned two MAs in procrastination, two different majors, mind you.

For so long I have kept from writing because of the belief that it takes commitment. And please note, that the first word of this paragraph is not I, which makes me want to go back to the first paragraph and change the first word, but to what, I don’t know, so that will stay. Going back, yay, third sentence that does not start with I, I’m on a roll here. Anyway, commitment is no joke as the cliche goes. It means writing every time an idea hits you and I mean, really hit you. It should mean not putting off writing because Twitter’s time line is hyperactive or that you cannot stop clicking news features on Huffington Post, much to Arriana’s delight. Yes, time line is two words. Thank you, Merriam. And those are just two examples of showing your commitment to writing. Needless, to say, there are more but you get the picture.

Also, maintaining a blog and/or writing requires passion, which I lack. As an individual, lack of passion is a double-edged sword. My biggest complaint is that even if I want to do something, I don’t want it bad enough for me to actually do it. But I want to want writing. Not so bad right now, I must admit but maybe later. I am not exactly hopeless, I suppose.

Hence, This way, please. I always want to remind myself to come here. And I hope I would often do. Image