Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Executioner's Song

Some people asked me about my depression.

The depression I had a few weeks ago. I can tell you that I've been dealing with depression since I was 17 years old, when I discovered the shit lying underneath a world I believed to be pure. Also since that was the age I truly understood my parents were poor.

I deal with it by acknowledging the damned thing. I am usually depressed, my outlook on life is primarily negative. Do I let it affect my work? Whenever I do, I just slap myself and get back on track. Cause nobody - not even me - messes with my work. I don't take myself seriously - I'm a walking parody of myself - but I do take work seriously.

I've been trained by three legendary journalists whom I suspect are also deranged in some way. Their key message was - take care of your work, and your work will take care of you. Everything else - humans, emotions, climate change, Obama, are all unnecessary and superfluous.

In fact, if you cock your head and listen very carefully, you will hear the sound of me not giving a fuck.

Anyway, one of the projects I was attached to bagged another award at WAN-INFRA. It's Bronze for cross-media editorial coverage. This is the second award we bagged this year, after also winning Bronze for Best Online Driver at Marketing Awards last week.

It's nice to have your efforts recognised, but my sight is focused purely on the tasks at hand. You are only as good as your last story, so you are only as good as your last project.

I'm deciding to let go of a lot of outside writing projects so I could focus more on work. There are some things I will do for fun, and to wank my creative dick, but I will target my intensity on the work at hand. I don't give a shit.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I got two reports to file. No power in the universe can stop me now.