segunda-feira, 17 de junho de 2013

How does this work then?

I am good at my job. I know that and people recognise it (traders, colleagues and even my boss). It feels great to have that well done pat on the back. Still, I am invisible. Other departments and people don't know I exist or when they do, still ignore me and contact my colleagues. Are they better than me? No, we are different. But others are funny, know everyone, make a joke of everything and people remember that. It is apparently more important to be loud, funny and braggy than effective, professional and caring (which those can also be don't get me wrong). People know and remember them, they are visible and for that reason opportunities, overtime, new jobs go their way. Me? I'm hardly a name they've seen in an email.
The annoying bit is that this situation isn't new at all. This is my 3rd UK job and in all the same happened. Great work, well done, but no chit chat, no invitations, no friends, no social relations. I know I am crap at social networking (I really rather get on with work than do the pretend game of being interested in everything) which probably justifies everything above. And it really gets on my nerves that being good, delivering above expectations and being creative doesn't seem to be the point or it won't at least get you anywhere. Obviously while I am here moaning analysing the situation, I am not doing anything to change it, but I truly don't know how. OK I could try to be funny but that is not my professional me. So, do I change myself or admit I am stuck in a vicious cycle and learn to be content with the tap on the back?

quarta-feira, 5 de junho de 2013

Uma porra*

é quando se encontra um emprego interessante, bem pago, na cidade certa, mas ao ler a descrição se percebe que não se tem qualquer hipótese porque falta coragem de arriscar e talento, muito talento.

*ler-se também merda do caralho

terça-feira, 4 de junho de 2013

Parece que tenho de ir ao cinema...

A ver se nos entendemos...

Quando faço dieta a comida sabe-me bem que eu gosto é de morfes, mas passado meia hora só desejo doces e cenas gordurosas. Logo, sou forçada a constatar que as dietas fazem bem ao corpo mas debilitam a mente e sacrificam o espírito... agora já marchava um copo de qualquer coisa!