Very few people will ever take the time to plow through all 61 pages of text, figures, and tables, which is longer than my Master's thesis was. It will never get published in a professional journal. My laborious hours of data entry, analysis, and fighting with Microsoft Word (WHY does it insist on applying formats to everything?) will probably not add much to the body of knowledge or change the course of recreational fisheries management history. Do I care? Hell no! It's all behind me now, at least until my boss reads it and finds something he thinks should be said differently. Which he will.
The reports I write are results of creel surveys, which measure recreational fishing effort, catch, harvest, and various demographics of anglers on lakes or rivers. I have been analyzing similar data (with the same 1995 DOS-based software!) and writing similar reports for the greater part of ten years now. It should be easy, almost automatic, but for some reason this whole project has taken much longer and come along with more difficulty than any other. Not that the subject matter is any more difficult to deal with; in fact it may be the similarity, the repetition, that makes it more difficult. I'm the kind of writer who wants to be creative, I want to write new, interesting stuff, but even my writing guidelines for this type of report seem to specifically discourage any creativity whatsoever. I'm just burned out on this gig.
What's more, there is no incentive to do a particularly good job on these reports. My inner perfectionist editor gets picky about typos, wording, and table layout, but as long as the basic information is there, in a somewhat clear, readable manner (and I am better at doing this than many of my colleagues) the report gets signed, I get a satisfactory performance review, and I get my paycheck. My job does not operate under a real economy, such as gardening, where my yield is proportional to the effort and expertise I put into it.
So for now, blogging and music will have to be my outlets for creativity.