When I find something repetitive or boring or otherwise unengaging (which I’m not sure is the same as “driving me crazy,” but maybe there can be some cross over?) I often try to design some humor or levity that I can insert into the situation… Often in the form of personifying the various inanimate objects around me. I can’t quite call to mind an example right now…
Oh! Well, this probably doesn’t map very well to at-work issues, but, several weeks ago we were purging the backyard of the many weed-monuments that nature had erected without consulting us. We were focusing on the burrs, and letting the oxalis/sour grass alone for the time being… And so I started making a silly little narrative about the “war” we had going on with the weeds, and the difference “resistance” efforts they tried against us (to their own doom and peril!) ... Then we discovered that up in the hill, many burr plants were growing underneath a cover of oxalis, and so, naturally, the oxalis had betrayed us and were now in bed with the enemy, etc. etc. The narratives aren’t ever especially deep. Haphazardly dramatic tends to keep me entertained well enough, and gives me a way to release frustration into fictitious versions of the situation…
But, again, that’s usually for tasks that don’t usually require much thinking on my end to execute (“see weed, pull weed,” is the extent of thought above.)
For other situations, I like to seek out the people I know who I can vent to and when I walk away I’m feeling better. Some people I know, when I talk with them, we just wind ourselves up and get more invested in the negative emotions. Other people I know, when I talk to them, they want to push everything back on me (and usually heap a whole lot of “well just do this, duh” on top of everything)... And then there are the people who, somehow, when I talk to them, they seem to be able to siphon my frustration out of the air—like some carbon dioxide scrubber of negative emotions. I just hope I can do the same in return for them.
Sometimes, too, I try to put myself in the mindset I am in when I’m really tired but still on a run. I try to notice the heaviness of my legs or the speed of my heart rate or my need for large gulps of air, and tell myself that this is just an experience, like any other, and that I’d rather be moving than not. (That last part of the sentence can backfire, though, sometimes.) I try to shift my attention to my posture, to the engagement of my core, to the way my arms are placed and swinging, to the way my feet are meeting the ground, the bend and flex in my knees, the lift of my legs by my hamstrings and hip flexors, etc. I take note of landmarks in the near (or far) distance, and notice that when I get to that landmark, while I might still be tired, I’m not much more tired than I had been when I first spotted it, and that I can just keep doing that, and doing that, until I get to the end of this run. And then I get to cool down, stretch, and shower… I try to think in similar ways when I’m in other situations. Notice the parts that are uncomfortable or out of my control, and then shift my attention to the parts that are more comfortable or within more of my control. I try to notice my progress along the way—even if I can’t see the end, I can see that I’m making progress, step by step. I don’t know. It has mixed success. Sometimes I’m not in the mood… And maybe this is just my attempt to conceptualize trying to “accept” the situation.
None of this is in lieu of the advice above. I rather like the advice above.