There are few things that impede my productivity like interruptions. I have to keep numerous things in mind when I’m occupied on certain particular activities, so my train of thought is easily derailed. I could extend the metaphor with exploding engines, flying shrapnel and injured passengers moaning in agony, but I leave that as an exercise for the student. The laborious task of pulling all the scattered bits and pieces together for another go takes time. More often than not, I have to redo portions of the work to ensure that nothing gets left behind. Naturally, the deadlines remain fixed.
Consequently, when someone bothers me three times a day to get a ‘progress update’ on a job that I have stated on a number of occasions would only be ready at the end of next week, the red mist starts to rise. Now this ‘someone’ happens to be my boss, so although “piss off and leave me alone, you filthy turd of camel with anus disease* ” would be an effective (albeit short-term) solution, it really isn’t an option. I have to dredge up a fake smile from my ever-dwindling supply of insincere jovial expressions and say something like, “Getting there. Should be done end of next week”. LIKE I TOLD YOU YESTERDAY! And the day before. And the day before THAT. For the love of small green apples! I know my lips are moving. I hear the words coming out of my mouth. Why does nothing seem to penetrate that fat, greasy head of yours? These wrinkles around my eyes are not laugh lines, they are the result of the spring winding ever tighter.
I feel that I am justifiably irked.
* this charming insult was lifted from ‘Souls in the Great Machine’ by Sean McMullen