Nothing irks me more than a person who doesn't do their job. Particularly when it impacts me being able to do mine well. We all have off days and make mistakes, but when the well-practiced do-nothing-while-looking-busy people of the world start trying to throw someone else under the bus to deflect their own shortcomings, I have a supremely difficult time shrugging it off.
I know that there is nothing I can do about someone else's actions and I can't let their choices get the better of me. It's just not easy to embrace that practice when a whole afternoon is turned inside out and my productivity tanks because someone failed to do their job. The extra energy my irritation creates doesn't have to be all for naught. With a little of the right music and the will to focus, I can usually dive in and start digging my way back out.
While I don't like being set back, I also don't like appearing unprofessional. Patriots' football is a totally different story, I mean I don't want my ability to remain collected and focused at work to be thwarted by some jackwagon dumping their half-assed efforts on my plate fucking up my flow. Sure, inside I'm seething for a few minutes, but the rest of the world doesn't have to witness it. That is reserved for the lucky few who are closest to me. Poor, unfortunate souls.
Today didn't end the way I had anticipated, but few things in life play out according to plan. During the few final hours, I realized I'm a whole lot better at what I do than I originally thought myself to be. I was able to turn the shit show I was handed into something useful, and I know that when I hand my work off to the next person who needs it to do their job, they won't be tossing back a Jameson like it's the elixir of life because I fucked up. They'll be drinking it because it's whiskey and whiskey is good.
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