Re: Productivity solutions
Posted: Thu December 05, 2024 8:20 pm
I hate this thread
Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.
There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.
There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.
There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.
O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.
Toast is a piece of it. We're using other software like 7shifts and MarginEdge that pull different data from Toast in different ways.tragabigzanda wrote:is this through Toast?washing machine wrote:Trag, wait til you hear what's new in restaurant management productivity. I don't even have an office, yet in the hours before we open I can manage inventory review, payroll, schedule review, ordering, vendor credit chasing, and maintenance WOs all from an app drawer on my phone.
Is that a tech problem, or a training/development problem?BurtReynolds wrote:Our boss is a big believer i this thing called Flow (formerly Shotgrid, formerly Shotgun), but the team hates it so so very much. It's supposed to be good for animators or movie people, but for us it's a terrible time sink. We have to train every vendor on how to use it, but usually just end up doing everything ourselves.
It's a micromanagement problem. They just want to track every minor detail, which doesn't work at all for the work we do. Plus we are all artists. We don't know how to do this shit, and do not want to learn.washing machine wrote:Is that a tech problem, or a training/development problem?BurtReynolds wrote:Our boss is a big believer i this thing called Flow (formerly Shotgrid, formerly Shotgun), but the team hates it so so very much. It's supposed to be good for animators or movie people, but for us it's a terrible time sink. We have to train every vendor on how to use it, but usually just end up doing everything ourselves.
Yeah, that's a good point.BurtReynolds wrote:It's a micromanagement problem. They just want to track every minor detail, which doesn't work at all for the work we do. Plus we are all artists. We don't know how to do this shit, and do not want to learn.washing machine wrote:Is that a tech problem, or a training/development problem?BurtReynolds wrote:Our boss is a big believer i this thing called Flow (formerly Shotgrid, formerly Shotgun), but the team hates it so so very much. It's supposed to be good for animators or movie people, but for us it's a terrible time sink. We have to train every vendor on how to use it, but usually just end up doing everything ourselves.
It's great if you're a producer I guess.
It’s hilarious these things are called productivity solutions.Monkey_Driven wrote:I hate this thread
It just makes it harder for him to take a two hour coffee shop break in the middle of the work day.washing machine wrote:Yeah, that's a good point.BurtReynolds wrote:It's a micromanagement problem. They just want to track every minor detail, which doesn't work at all for the work we do. Plus we are all artists. We don't know how to do this shit, and do not want to learn.washing machine wrote:Is that a tech problem, or a training/development problem?BurtReynolds wrote:Our boss is a big believer i this thing called Flow (formerly Shotgrid, formerly Shotgun), but the team hates it so so very much. It's supposed to be good for animators or movie people, but for us it's a terrible time sink. We have to train every vendor on how to use it, but usually just end up doing everything ourselves.
It's great if you're a producer I guess.
Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.
There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.
There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.
There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.
O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.
Back in the day, when I was in the field, I used to get 1.5 day’s work done in a day, then I’d wait to log that extra half day’s work into the system the next morning and roll into work between 11am and noon. I think a couple times, I didn’t go in at all and just logged things in from home in real time. Pays to understand how the system works.washing machine wrote:Two hour coffee breaks while still getting your shit done can be the Utopian dream that productivity solutions are building towards.
Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.
There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.
There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.
There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.
O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.
E.H. Ruddock wrote:I've been experiencing this weird tech disconnect lately. Of course my parents' generation isn't good with technology, but now it seems after Gen X and some older Millenials, the younger generations are also tech stupid. Simple things, like when I ask "where did you save the attachment from the email I sent you?" I'll get "I don't know, I just saved it". Sigh. These are young attorneys, college graduates.