To wander and sit still, to let the day's
Humiliations redeploy and blaze
Across my field of vision to irritate
My soul until the demon language flow
And purge experience to common sense
Making me master of inconsequence,
Letting me know the little that I know.
Yet, like you, I am bogged by aptitude
For getting tedious work done fast, amazing
My colleagues daily by my skill, and hear it
Praised, take it to heart, and know that interlude
Of felt responsibility, hair-raising
Pride of doing well what breaks the spirit.
~ To Franz Kafka, by David Galler
(This poem rang particularly true when I was praised at work for the beauty of my cheese plates.)