Confessions of a middle manager
Apparently, if you want people to read what you write, you should write an article entitled, “how to get people to read what you write” or “how to influence people” or “10 productivity hacks of highly successful people” or, you know, “the secret”. This is pretty much the intellectual equivalent of click bait. People want to know the secret, you know? I’m thinking that the actual percentage of these articles that are useful is probably around 5%. Maybe? Not to insult people who write them, because maybe these are actually the steps they took and maybe it is working for them? I don’t know. What I do know, when I’m not getting sucked in to reading this fluff, is that I’d much rather read something that is about something. Something funny or serious or relatable or really completely outside of my experience but well-written. I don’t know, maybe it is just me, maybe I’m doing it wrong.
I’m probably doing it wrong. Whatever it is. What did they say about George W. Bush? Failing up? That is what I like to do. I like to fail up. Not that I’m George W. Bush. I’m actually not that good at it. I’m not going to be President (it’s a crappy job, as evidenced by the fact that we couldn’t actually find anyone decent who wanted to do it). So, actually, I’m pretty good. I’ve failed pretty successfully at trying to be President. I’ve also successfully failed to win nationals and to be a computer scientist (although I sometimes think about trying that again). I’m sort of a mediocre scientist and a pretty crappy project manager, but things keep getting done, mostly because I trust other people to do their fucking jobs.
Speaking of other people doing their jobs, most people kind of suck at that too. I don’t blame them. They have a crappy manager, but mostly they are lazy. I’m not lazy. I’m particularly not lazy about things I like to do. It just so happens that my job isn’t really the thing I like to do. The millenials who work for me are much more into their jobs than I am. I blame it on youthful optimism. I’ve become my parents. Except not. My parents were better at this than I am. I’ve become my husbands parents, except with less money. So there is that. I can’t even draw, so you don’t get a picture. Be creative, picture it yourself.