quentinCaulfield Cup and Stress!
October 30th 2006 08:10
You've been asking for it and here it is... the finish of the 2006 Caulfield Cup. Your winner? Tawqeet! Your jockey? D Dunn!
Today, let's talk about life...
October is over and November is here, this year has gone without a cheer!
Load first, the willing horse...
This is a tough one, but let's have a crack... I have realised that in life, those who demonstrate the capacity to do more and get more done than others (in the same amount of time) - generally get asked to do more.
It's not just work. Jobs around the house, fixing family computer problems, the list goes on.
The workplace is probably the most easiest to relate to however. Take this simple experiment, that proves those able to do more work, usually get asked to do more:
I was sitting at my desk, with about the same amount of work to do as usual. Normally, in this situation, I would be prepositioned by a senior to do something else, take on another job or get 'loaded up' (as a Crazy John would label it).
But on this day I decided to pretend I was 'under the pump' - I kept swearing at my computer, hitting the monitor, slamming the mouse around and storming away from my desk every 10 minutes. I made myself seem more busy than usual, that one more job would send me over the edge.
Amazingly, I didn't get asked to do anything.
Load first, the willing horse...
If someone perceives you to be working well and getting the job done, they will always ask you to do more. I don't believe in stress, so I'm not going to get onto pushing employees to breaking point, but this 'load him up' mentality is damaging. Why do I need to be overworked before the amount of work I'm given is limited?
I'm lucky, I can control the amount of work I do - but I suggest this 'load 'em up' attitude exists everywhere.
OK, you're wondering why I don't believe in stress. Simple, it doesn't exist. If I went to a surgeon and asked him to 'remove' or 'cut out' my stress, he couldn't. 50 years ago, when stress hadn't been invented, no-one had it. Coincidence?
Much like oestitis pubis, or OS as footballers like to call it - five years ago it was known as a 'crook hip'.
Stress is fake. But don't get me wrong. High blood pressure exists, it is actually present in one's body. Heart pulpatations exist, they can be measured and heard.
But stress? C'mon - It's nothing more than a frame of mind.
Jeepers I've been busy lately with work work work, people-ing and university. I could blame it all on stress, but I have a better word - one that is sure to knock the socks of all those on 'stress leave' (the Aussie compo claim of the 21st century).
It's a little condition called 'life'. You know, we all have it. It kicks in when you open your eyes every morning and relief is found when you close them at night. How long until the doctor starts signing 'life leave' certificates, where one can check into a 'coma clinic' and get put under for a couple of weeks just to chill out. Like hibernating. Sound good? You sicko!
Exam tomorrow morning, what subject? Ahh, journalism I think. What seat? Ahh, 2515 I think. What level? Ahh, Caulfield level two? What time? Ahh, I'll get back to you.
Tawqeet wins the 2006 Caulfield Cup. Dwayne Dunn aboard.
Today, let's talk about life...
October is over and November is here, this year has gone without a cheer!
Load first, the willing horse...
This is a tough one, but let's have a crack... I have realised that in life, those who demonstrate the capacity to do more and get more done than others (in the same amount of time) - generally get asked to do more.
It's not just work. Jobs around the house, fixing family computer problems, the list goes on.
The workplace is probably the most easiest to relate to however. Take this simple experiment, that proves those able to do more work, usually get asked to do more:
I was sitting at my desk, with about the same amount of work to do as usual. Normally, in this situation, I would be prepositioned by a senior to do something else, take on another job or get 'loaded up' (as a Crazy John would label it).
But on this day I decided to pretend I was 'under the pump' - I kept swearing at my computer, hitting the monitor, slamming the mouse around and storming away from my desk every 10 minutes. I made myself seem more busy than usual, that one more job would send me over the edge.
Amazingly, I didn't get asked to do anything.
Load first, the willing horse...
If someone perceives you to be working well and getting the job done, they will always ask you to do more. I don't believe in stress, so I'm not going to get onto pushing employees to breaking point, but this 'load him up' mentality is damaging. Why do I need to be overworked before the amount of work I'm given is limited?
I'm lucky, I can control the amount of work I do - but I suggest this 'load 'em up' attitude exists everywhere.
OK, you're wondering why I don't believe in stress. Simple, it doesn't exist. If I went to a surgeon and asked him to 'remove' or 'cut out' my stress, he couldn't. 50 years ago, when stress hadn't been invented, no-one had it. Coincidence?
Much like oestitis pubis, or OS as footballers like to call it - five years ago it was known as a 'crook hip'.
Stress is fake. But don't get me wrong. High blood pressure exists, it is actually present in one's body. Heart pulpatations exist, they can be measured and heard.
But stress? C'mon - It's nothing more than a frame of mind.
Jeepers I've been busy lately with work work work, people-ing and university. I could blame it all on stress, but I have a better word - one that is sure to knock the socks of all those on 'stress leave' (the Aussie compo claim of the 21st century).
It's a little condition called 'life'. You know, we all have it. It kicks in when you open your eyes every morning and relief is found when you close them at night. How long until the doctor starts signing 'life leave' certificates, where one can check into a 'coma clinic' and get put under for a couple of weeks just to chill out. Like hibernating. Sound good? You sicko!
Exam tomorrow morning, what subject? Ahh, journalism I think. What seat? Ahh, 2515 I think. What level? Ahh, Caulfield level two? What time? Ahh, I'll get back to you.
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