Earlier today I had a series of palpitations and while I’ve had them before – once a few years ago when I’ve had a few coffees – it was a bit of a worry.
The only source of stress for me is work, as I now have little interests outside of work which may have caused any sensation of any sort.
Sure, United’s abysmal struggles to cope with the departure of Sir Alex Ferguson have been a source of consternation but it isn’t anxiety. I am a long term fan but I seldom feel fanatical about its prospects.
At work the pressure is mounting. It has been. And with a colleague recently welcoming the arrival of his firstborn, his ensuing absence has meant an escalation of work streaming in towards yours truly. Somehow the boss too, has been funnelling a certain type of work towards me. Maybe that’s the source of it.
Increasingly in any event, the sentiments which drove me out of practice into not for profit work back in 2011, have been swarming back. The constant focus on matters which entail subjective, soft and obscure concepts all for the apparent objective of documenting thought processes, deliberations and decisions, often come across as paper generating and shuffling which does little to add real value. Often such work appear to come about not because it actually improves the operations of the company or reduces the risk it wears but simply because the boss (or his boss) wanted it done, and that could have come about from any angle, including to satisfy his/her/their boss’ KRAs.
I am still warding off work beyond regular hours but that too increasingly means my work is falling behind. Longer hours may no longer be an optional matter.