Wednesday 24 August 2016

... give up.


This week - or what is left of it - I am labouring within the constrictions of a rare thing in my world - a deadline. This is why I am sitting at home writing this bollocks, and not out in the sunshine chiselling away at a block of marble.

'When the going gets tough, the tough get going'  is a trite little saying which has never, ever, applied to me. At the slightest sign of adversity, I pack up and go home, making sure to stop off at the pub on the way.

Someone called me up once and said that they urgently needed a birthday gift for HRH Prince Charles, but they needed it in three days. Sensing a deadline which would have brought a small quantity of perspiration to my forehead, I declined the commission on the grounds that I was too busy. The caller (who knew me well) pulled me up on my feeble excuse, so I got someone else to make it, and set myself off in the direction I have been trying to follow ever since. It is called 'delegation'.

This is not to say that I did not once have very high energy levels, with a strength to bodyweight ratio which would have - combined with my long reach - made me a passable rock-climber. The trouble with rock-climbing is that you cannot just suddenly decide to go back down the mountain in time to catch last orders, so I never took it up.

This is not to say that I don't like a challenge. I once bought a one hundredweight  (112 lbs) bag of cement - in the days when builders were allowed to pick up something which weighed more than a few bags of sugar - and booked a taxi to take me and it from the yard which was up a steep hill on one side of Bath, to the building site up an even steeper hill on the other, 3 miles away.

The taxi driver refused to take the cement, so I put it on my shoulder and carried it back. I wanted to see if I could do it without putting it down, and after about an hour of being laughed at by various people who did not know how far I had come with it, I arrived at the top of the hill to be greeted by the owner of the house, who thought I was just about to have a heart-attack. Maybe I was.

So every time I have tested myself to the limit, there has been no appreciable financial gain involved. Maybe I am just scared of success.

21 comments:

  1. Procrastination: We have a barrow full of an emptied bag of cement waiting to be used in our garden. Been in the garage like that for at least six weeks now.

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    1. It may well stay in the barrow - in one lump.

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  2. That cement bag carrying adventure sounds scary. Never again try anything like that, I beg you.

    I'm not a procrastinator, perhaps because I fear not meeting a deadline. Instead, I've always been pretty good at my own time management when faced with projects, particularly several simultaneous projects. However, that skill always caused problems when I was working with other folks who were natural procrastinators.
    Maybe that is another reason that solitary art has an appeal?
    Best wishes to you with regard to your deadline.

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    1. Too late to beg me - I'm too old to do it again. Where were you when I needed you?

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  3. "At the slightest sign of adversity, I pack up and go home, making sure to stop off at the pub on the way."

    This was my favorite line of this whole post! Haha!

    I hate the word and the concept of "delegation". It's the only thing one of my bosses is good at--he's a lazy, good-for-nothing narcissist and the biggest asshole I've ever met. He'll TELL you that delegation is his biggest strength...he's absolutely shameless. I can't wait until the day comes that I never have to see him again.

    I'd love to see him struggling uphill with a huge bag of cement. But he's not manly enough to ever attempt something like that--he'd rather make a woman do it for him.




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    1. I didn't think you had a 'boss'. Have you got yourself an unwanted job already?

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  4. I'm working with a nature, not nurture personality in my house right now. If I were to wait for major things to happen, rather than being proactive, I'd literally lose my mind and need committed. I need to understand the big picture, then all the little details settle into place without any effort on my part. I will be so happy when my granddaughter goes to college tomorrow and realizes her dream of being a big shot game designer and earning mega bucks in four years and one day.

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    1. Big shot game hunter takes money. She must wait four years and one day to shoot wildebeest.

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  5. Come on, Tom, when we face the dead line from hell, as I did yesterday, FOCUS is mine, as I am sure it'd be yours.

    Cement - on your shoulders? Spare a thought for Sisyphus. Not that he had a choice in the matter.

    "Scared of success"? Oh, yes, Tom. It happens. Not least to the best. Sabotaging one's self.

    U

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    1. I tried running this through Google Translate, and it made no sense in any language.

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  6. I'll comment on this tomorrow or whenever you tell us you are finished. Now go work (pretend to).

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  7. One of the few perks of absolute and utter retirement is saying sod any idea of work under any circumstances. Look forward to that day my man - it'll arrive soon enough.

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    1. No, Weave, I may not retire. I look forward to the blessed relief which we must all experience at some time.

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    2. I would be happy to retire, but who will pay the rent?

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    3. Your mother? Anthony? An ex? (not me).

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  8. I'm also carrying my cement bag and I'm determined to get to the top even if it will kill me!
    Greetings Maria x

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