Everyday chasing this growing unread emails.
you go by 200 today, respond, do or mark complete some 80+, go home with 300. 😂 Does this mean you slack off?
if this is how you measure success, you have done nothing. Morning at 200, end of day at 300 unread emails. Go home exhausted. forget the 80+ you did.
If this was Physics where Work done is the amount of Force at a certain Distance W= F*D, and distance is a vector;
Wi= 200
Wdone = 80
WF= 300
WF = wi -wdone + W3
w3 = 300 +80 - 200
w3 = 180
W3 means there were 180 more emails that came along that day. And this has been the crucial one that I often choose to overlook.
wdone was the work you did today.
wf is the end result.
WF being > Wi means you still have not done 100 more emails just to break even the work today. Oftentimes, or some companies focus on this end result. But they forget W3 and the Wdone.
For them,
When you slack, it means remaining Wi = Wf or worse Wi<Wf.
If this is how you measure success you're dumb because you got the wrong perspective.
And you're putting much pressure on yourself.
Now the physics formula of Pressure is...
.
.
.
nevermind.
Thursday, July 11, 2019
Tuesday, July 2, 2019
This is not a poem.
Are you real?
Are you not just an idea?
You are too perfect.
And we've only just met.
Before I laid eyes on you
I had warned myself,
he will not stay,
this guy will eventually go away.
Seven months into that night I still remember the impression.
I no longer remember the details of your face but I remember what I felt when I looked at you. It was a nice lovely feeling wasting the night away, hearing your silly laughters. You were teary eyed remembering your silliness.
It was a nice lovely feeling to be alive and be with a stranger, the likes of you.
During those times I noted, I will never see him again when he goes back to the US. Therefore, I looked at you longer when you were not looking. I tried to remember the details of your face against the dark of the night. I tried to remember the pitch of your voice, your accent, your gestures. Truly, memories fade. The same goes to the connection that we built.
When I remember that night, it felt so distant now. It felt as if I just woken out of a dream and I never really knew someone like you, like it never happened.
Was it just me? Because I felt the connection and you were there too. I guess I will bury the night when I happened to meet the only person, and that is you.
Are you not just an idea?
You are too perfect.
And we've only just met.
Before I laid eyes on you
I had warned myself,
he will not stay,
this guy will eventually go away.
Seven months into that night I still remember the impression.
I no longer remember the details of your face but I remember what I felt when I looked at you. It was a nice lovely feeling wasting the night away, hearing your silly laughters. You were teary eyed remembering your silliness.
It was a nice lovely feeling to be alive and be with a stranger, the likes of you.
During those times I noted, I will never see him again when he goes back to the US. Therefore, I looked at you longer when you were not looking. I tried to remember the details of your face against the dark of the night. I tried to remember the pitch of your voice, your accent, your gestures. Truly, memories fade. The same goes to the connection that we built.
When I remember that night, it felt so distant now. It felt as if I just woken out of a dream and I never really knew someone like you, like it never happened.
Was it just me? Because I felt the connection and you were there too. I guess I will bury the night when I happened to meet the only person, and that is you.
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