Busy?

People always ask, are you busy? My answer is the same: if you are not busy, what can you do. Being not busy may be a habit. When you are busy and idle at work, no matter how busy you are when you are busy, no one can help you. Why shout? Work is originally a job, busy and idle are in self-regulation. I feel busy all the time. I need to reflect on and adjust my working style. I have noticed that shouting busy is actually a habit. Some people can turn nothing into something, and turn small things into big things, mainly relying on verbal efforts. Busy! You see, who came here, the leader confessed the matter, who wanted a number, who was always entangled with the matter and had to do work, and had to work overtime to ask for instructions at night. Hey, hey, why are you never busy? He raised a folder in his hand, which was Dusty. If this busy person is skilled in business, he will not be busy. A number should be spoken out casually, and a request should be completed in 10 minutes and a half hours. If someone comes to visit or consult or handle affairs, it will cost nothing if he is reasonable. Unless we deal with all kinds of inspections, supplement materials, engage in sanitation and plug loopholes, how many of the basic-level work of government affairs are fully arranged now? Working for one day and working effectively for two or three hours, it is considered as a real job. I undertook the most troublesome basic history of the organization and compilation of basic information in the previous period. Although the history of the unit for more than 50 years is a little slim, I still rely on the usual accumulation and existing data, the draft of thousands of words was soon compiled. Someone said, you must be very hard and busy, I said it was OK. In fact, I didn’t take much effort, just spent a little more time than usual to check and browse the materials. What? I heard a comrade in charge of historical materials in the unit said: Alas, it’s too hard. I don’t know how to do it. I can’t buy it. I’m too busy to work. He came to the fact that some people are busy: I have little knowledge and don’t know how to do it. No idea, no method, no busy, no efficiency. High eyes and low hands, big mouth and small hands are also common problems for those who shout busy. As long as it is the best of the above, they are full of promises, no matter what they can do or not, they will make every impression first. As for the implementation, if someone did it, they would be the best pushing hands of tai chi; If no one answered it, then they would shout for help, saying that it was the Emperor’s project, and let everyone know that it was unusual to pull people to do it. If you are busy, you will often fall into vulgar and useless; The real big things are step by step and regular, and follow the procedures step by step, not as big or small as the wind wheel, finally, I can’t see much performance. Don’t need han mang. Real busyness, such as just getting into work, is what you need. Because you know too little, you need to spend more time to understand and master, spend more efforts to practice familiarity, spend more thought design and planning, and spend more sweat and hard work. The busy work of assault is everyone’s busy, not one’s busy. If you always feel special, you need to think about why others don’t shout. If you are really busy alone, you have to see what you are busy with, whether there is something wrong with the direction, and you are taking a detour. No matter how capable anyone is in a group or a society, you can see clearly most people, and even leaders can see clearly. Never underestimate the insight ability of any leader. Just like what our chief said to some people who shouted bitter and tired: who doesn’t know that Lord Ma has three eyes! When shouting becomes a social phenomenon, it will be mixed with fish, and the real busy and the fake busy or the chaotic busy can not be separated. Naturally, those who are busy are not only giving but not gaining. Occasionally, those who do not know the truth will leave diligence in their first impression; Occasionally, leaders who are tired of hearing shouts will also throw a piece of meat to block their mouths. The so-called situation that children who can cry eat too much milk always appears from time to time. Shouting is the external expression of inner weakness and the psychological urgency of chasing vanity. This is what all practical people disdain. Passing through the voices of some people shouting, we can see the prevailing situation in the current society: describe the planning plan written on paper as the achievement made, regard what we have said as what we have done, draw a giant dragon and then draw a sea horse, it is also like another form of shouting busy to say that the score is bigger than that of enlarging. This kind of situation is spreading everywhere, which can also make us understand why there are fewer and fewer people who speak better and better, shout busy and do things. Busy? Not busy. We are busy, while others are busier. My answer is that it cannot be changed. 2012 nian 6 yue 6 ri Like (prose editor: Dielianhua) change the way to continue to stay with this city I went out at 6 o’clock in the morning and came back at almost 8 o’clock in the evening. 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I would like to use the ever-lasting blue lamp and Buddha clothes in exchange for the Eternal Love with You

I would like to use the ever-lasting blue lamp and Buddha clothes in exchange for the Eternal Love with You

I met the beauty of fireworks in full bloom. From then on, even if my dream was broken, I still kept on regretting and chose to be intoxicated in my memory. — Inscribing the wind, gently dancing the thin shirt, blowing up the messy pages of the book, and suddenly there was a piece of coldness in the room. At this moment, Miss is printed on the window lattice, and is blown into messy fragments by the wind, flying towards your direction …… ask why spring is in a hurry? Life is like a dream, you, after all, leave with the flying flowers and Catkins. The past in the silhouette was gradually covered with dust and turned pale. I was lonely at first, but also belonged to loneliness. The sadness soaked in the bones was strung into tears again and again, and the unfinished handwriting flowed over the dancing tip of the pen, and then it was blurred along with the unforgettable parting wound. The world of mortals is boundless, my heart has fallen into the bottomless deep end, fate, gathered and dispersed you and me, turned around and disappeared your Trace, a encounter after the heart, left a tangled helplessness. Pain, I don’t know how much, a drop of tears fell down, breaking the place where you and me gazed, are you like me, sealing your heart in the place where we once met? Looking back, a purple butterfly in the flowers beside the broken bridge was flying, and the lonely words were desolate, leaving the passers-by a sadness. A touch of blush, full of missing, a dream, broken the end of the world, a wisp of sorrow, hurt the years. Lovesickness had no trace. After a silent sigh, from then on, I could only settle in the deep black, with the reflection at the foot of the wall, silently counting the passing years. At the edge of every season, I set the moon as a bottle, drink a river of missing, drink up my sorrow, touch the cold and warm of the world of mortals and the changes of the world with deep love poems, waiting for the redemption of a wisp of Firefly fire. I also wanted to use a blooming time to forget the beautiful past, hoping not to show the deepest sadness in my life again, but it always makes a drop of tears embellished the melancholy of the night and the desolation of dreams inadvertently. In the world without you, half of the city is buried in smoke and sand. In the pond where Mandarin Ducks play together, there is no lingering and deep feeling around my fingers. The beauty you make has become the sadness of my dance steps. Years of hands brushed my thinner face, I finally gradually understood that maybe this life was not you accompanying me to the end. The sigh ran aground the gentle and charming feeling like flowing clouds and flowing water in full bloom. In the light of the fleeting time, the fragrance finally fell down into a lonely and thin back, sighing and keeping an unrelieved persistence. This love lingered on the platform of the old days and could not walk out of the Paris. Tears splashed on the world of mortals, rolling like the sea, letting the pain cry, letting the flowing light miss, who will feel distressed for me in this rolling world of mortals? The flute and music stopped abruptly after the winter snow fell, turning into a hasty escape. In the cold night, I wandered alone, wandering on the edge of imagination and memory, weaved the deep attachment into a song with hundreds of turns and thousands of times, and sang with sorrow. If the green bird stopped singing, then what kind of mood should I use to ignore the memory like clouds? Past King? Look at how many degrees the flowers bloom, but I don’t know whose face is smiling? My sadness always accompanies me with the dim night and a curtain of deep dreams. Till now, when I look through the autumn water, the flute is in vain, my sorrow frowned and lowered my head. With a plain pen, I can only touch the rain on the petals to write the fantastic beauty into the swaying of my life. My yearning for you stops at the Twilight ferry with the wind of the season. On the lonely road, your smile and your advice are my only companionship. My favorite, in the time of parting, did that wild goose fly south pass on my missing? Have you ever felt the expectation of my death in the lonely world of mortals? I am obsessed with you day and night? My favorite, do you know that I would like to use all the blue lights and Buddha clothes in exchange for the eternal love with you? Guarding a city alone and deeply loving a city is because that city once had the most beautiful scenery in the world. You are a painting and a song that I can’t finish in my life. I will still sit quietly in the corner of the fleeting year, listening to the sound of the wind passing by, lowering my eyebrows and storing a crystal clear tear, rub into the ink of missing, and paint this deep-rooted tenderness into a painting of ink painting with the fragrance of Qionghua. You used to whisper through the cold seasons without losing the temperature of love. I put those warm whispers close to my chest to resist the suffering of the long night. In the colorless years, I was infatuated and still kept on regretting, looking forward to the world of mortals and beautiful accidents. Oh, dear, if you have a dream tonight, please remember to hold my hand in the dream, wave away the pain of the world of mortals, take me to the flourishing age of fireworks, to the place where no sadness comes…… Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) the snow in spring Spring elimination snow, multi-the yao nian, unspoken. Reading from afar, it is just above that snowfield. 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