Boots are out. Jacket covers my upper torso. It’s officially winter down here.
Grey walls. Grey floors. They mute the world and shield me from external pressures.
The same color feels oppressive when the sun goes away, and I grow less gay.
When it’s grey outside, I grow ponderous.
Everything becomes a blank canvas full of potential, and nothing to show for itself. An expression of possibility. Where do I start?
I’m supposed to work today and generate serious content to do savvy change management before rolling out a new IT solution. I don’t want to. I’m not in the right mood. I hate working during weekends. I really do.
So I sit and write. But I want to write down my private thoughts and not about work.
I have failed as a leader because the specialist writing the content hasn’t produced quality output. So here I am, filling the gap again. The better leader I become, the smaller the gap becomes. How do I prioritize and spend time with people that need me the most?
Until I figure it out, I must sit and write. Write and write until I’m done.