I have just written and deleted a real diatribe of a blog about someone at work. Someone who everyone else apparently LOVES and who is perfectly nice, a good journo and funny except when he appears to HATE me, or at least hate my work, which is a lot.
I was writing said diatribe because I was upset about being given some unwanted advice regarding a story – advice I really wasn’t in the mood to hear. Why does he hate me? I wrote, and what can I do when he makes me completely miserable, even if he’s just trying to be helpful?
Oh woe is me. Anyway, I snapped out of it and deleted the big ball of whine because I had another look at the story and realised his suggestions had made it better. Not much, not enough (in my view) to warrant making me feel so shit, but a bit. I hate dealing with him, I hate discussing stories with him and I hate being given unsolicited advice but there’s not much I can do about it. And, if the net result is that my stories end up a little bit better it’s hard to be too pissed for long.
Next step: learn to stop being a pussy who can’t take criticism. Yeah, I know, good luck with that one…