Junk science, dubious data division, of 2008.
Best science videos from New Scientist for 2008.
Scripps' top religion stories of 2008.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Tough times at work
I'm glad/lucky to have such a good job, etc., so don't bother educating me on that score. I feel like I am falling victim to the Peter Principle, in which people are promoted until they hit their level of incompetence. I am especially troubled by this because, with a young family depending on me, I am in no position to walk away, even in good economic times.
I started out in the ranks of my chosen profession, and I was very good at it. I've now worked up to being a manager, and I am not a natural at it, let's say. Management is very much an acquired skill for me, and after almost ten years I still feel like I've got one foot hobbled to my thigh.
This is all my own fault. I have not done the detailed scutwork necessary to excel in my present responsibilities. My staff doesn't respect me and my supervisors are profoundly displeased with me. I figure I've got a year to retrieve the situation, though it's possible I'm already circling the drain. The stress of this predicament has aggravated a latent bipolar condition--a hereditary condition on my mother's side--for which I've had to finally go on anti-depressants, just to take the edge of off daily life. My wife doesn't quite understand, but she's been great by trying to be supportive.
I've had a week off this Christmas, and it's been relaxing. I just hope I can function competently when I go back. More on this later.
I started out in the ranks of my chosen profession, and I was very good at it. I've now worked up to being a manager, and I am not a natural at it, let's say. Management is very much an acquired skill for me, and after almost ten years I still feel like I've got one foot hobbled to my thigh.
This is all my own fault. I have not done the detailed scutwork necessary to excel in my present responsibilities. My staff doesn't respect me and my supervisors are profoundly displeased with me. I figure I've got a year to retrieve the situation, though it's possible I'm already circling the drain. The stress of this predicament has aggravated a latent bipolar condition--a hereditary condition on my mother's side--for which I've had to finally go on anti-depressants, just to take the edge of off daily life. My wife doesn't quite understand, but she's been great by trying to be supportive.
I've had a week off this Christmas, and it's been relaxing. I just hope I can function competently when I go back. More on this later.
A sensitive soul, my son is
My second grade son is a sensitive fellow. I mean that in a good way, not that he cries or fusses easily. I got a glimmer of this side of him a few weeks ago when I was watching a TV special about the JFK assassination. I kept telling him it was too scary for kids, and for him to go out, but as usual that just piqued his interest. They ran the old videotapes of the television reporters breathlessly announcing that the president was dead, the footage of Jack Ruby lynching Oswald, all of it.
I finally turned it off and got him ready for his bath. He asked me a few questions about JFK and shooting and bad people, and seemed subdued. After I put him in the tub and left, I heard him crying softly. I didn't understand why at first, and like always he was reluctant to explain. But later on we talked some more, and he said that the program made him sad.
I believe that this was his first impression with evil, as opposed to mere childish meanness or discomfiture. He's interested in the Presidents, and he never understood before that Kennedy had been killed. The idea that someone could kill another person, especially a President, presented itself to him in its full ugliness, and his tender little soul recoiled at the thought.
I can't begin to imagine what he'll be when he grows up, only that I'm sure he'll grow up well.
I finally turned it off and got him ready for his bath. He asked me a few questions about JFK and shooting and bad people, and seemed subdued. After I put him in the tub and left, I heard him crying softly. I didn't understand why at first, and like always he was reluctant to explain. But later on we talked some more, and he said that the program made him sad.
I believe that this was his first impression with evil, as opposed to mere childish meanness or discomfiture. He's interested in the Presidents, and he never understood before that Kennedy had been killed. The idea that someone could kill another person, especially a President, presented itself to him in its full ugliness, and his tender little soul recoiled at the thought.
I can't begin to imagine what he'll be when he grows up, only that I'm sure he'll grow up well.
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