Now that the bloody work report is done, my life in Waterloo can finally begin.

Every term, your beloved Matthew must hiberate for the first week of school and write this dreaded work report— the ubiquitous work report that seriously adds no value to my education but to create some marketing for CECS that our students produce something tangible at the end of the work term. Oh, please.

Yes I’m bitter.

Instead, I’ve always wanted to write one of those reflection papers— the ones that UW accountants write. I’ve always been great with writing reflection papers. You might recall the essays that discuss how my experiences, how I felt, what I’ve learned, and how it has enhanced my life. I’ve become such a pro at writing these papers from my four years of religion class at Fr. McGivney.

Oh, high school, I (sort of) miss thee.

This term, my creative report title this term is Engaging the Private Sector in Transit Capital Infrastructure. Writing this report is like pulling teeth— no it’s worse— it’s like pulling teeth and taking a Craftsman drill and making a nice crater in my new wound.

Once again, I’ve gone over the page limit: 4570 words (hush, hush). The maximum is 4000 words. This is considered good for me. I’ve typically gone much further than that. I don’t understand why I always do this. Perhaps it’s because I’m paranoid and very particular that I don’t miss anything.

At work, I’ve been told by my boss that my briefing notes are sometimes overwritten. According to him, I’ve developed what he calls planning syndrome.

Don’t worry, it’s not contagious.

He explains that planning programs have, and I’m sure planners agree, have build an almost excessive foundation for writing comprehensive research reports. Consequently, this planning syndrome describes the difficulty for planners to transition from being comprehensive in reports to being concise. According to him, this term is readily used in the Ontario Public Service.

This long digression is not leading me anywhere. Essentially, my point I don’t like work reports— or any reports for that matter. I’m tired of it.

I should really let this go, but I thought I’d vent my troubles away.

I feel better now.