Some days you're the windshield
Some days, you're the bug.
Today, I feel a little more like the disembodied wing stuck under the wiper blade.
It just keeps taking swipes at me, and I'm along for the ride.
sigh
Apparently, I'm not done whining yet. Whodathunkit.
I promise, though, only one Nicholas-related gripe today. The rest involves the real, live people who I swear strive to make me question my reality.
Didja ever have one of those moments where you have to step back, reassess what you thought you understood about your niche in the workplace, and end up feeling like a complete idiot for even assuming things were going as well as you'd thought?
I've been at this particular facility for just shy of one year. Except for the corn nibblet who came and went faster than you can say twatbag five times fast, I've enjoyed a certain essence of camaraderie at my job. Sure, I'm not good friends with anyone, because these walls are pretty high, but we all get along, share the same "%*&$@" frustrations and "wow, that worked out well" moments; and in general, the crew I work with most keeps gossip to a bare minimum. Imagine my surprise when it was mentioned to me that one of my supervisors had a complaint. About ME. Why it was passed along from a peer, I do not understand nor appreciate; furthermore, I was thrown by the mere thought that I had not met or exceeded expectations! WTF? This is me we're talking about, and perfection is my hallmark. Damn.
Today I got The.Talk.
My college edjamkashun is learnin' me to be in the supervisory position sumday. Sometime, I be forgettin' just where my place be. I don't be axin questshuns an' stuff. I needs to remember that I'm only third string in the quartet and not get too big for mah britches jus yet.
Apparently, according to this bitter old maid who wants so desperately to be my mentor, "several people have complained", yet she was unable (or unwilling) to cite examples of my misconduct, much less squeal on the whiners.
So, I have now added paranoid to my list of personality disorders (ranking somewhere behind delusional, obsessive-compulsive, narcissitic, passive-aggressive, depressive, and just plain whack-o).
Here I was, flitting through my days nonchalantly, doing my job (quite well, I might add), blindly believing that I was part of the team, well-liked by my peers, respected by my subjects, hailed by my predecessors... all to have the red carpet yanked out from under my perfectly pedicured feet. The nerve.
Seriously, though. I hate the feeling that someone doesn't like me. Someone has thought long enough about me and become so fed up with me that they had to say something to others. I really dislike being the topic of conversation, in any manner. It is rather disconcerting.
I come home from work, and find THIS waiting in my mailbox. First birthdays are fun!
Which brings me to my final issue for today.
I placed an "in memoriam" ad in the newspaper, as is customary, to mark Nick's day. I told you, I wanted a pity party. (Besides all the Aunts, Grandparents, and Lodge members, there was another stillborn's remembrance in there as well, her 2nd anniversary. So sad.). I thought, at the very least, I would have a memento to laminate and put in his keepsake box.
Gerry called to see how I was doing. Not my parents, not the inlaws, not one single real-life local* friend or family gave a shit.
If it weren't for you exceptionally wonderful, amazingly special, truly-sincerely-awesomely appreciated people that live inside my computer, I would have been desperately crushed and horribly lonely during this week. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your kindness. You were incredible, and I can't begin to express how much it has meant to me.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
* C and J, who are not 'local': look for a lavish acknowledgement real soon. I promise. Stupid camera. Luv ya. :-)
Today, I feel a little more like the disembodied wing stuck under the wiper blade.
It just keeps taking swipes at me, and I'm along for the ride.
sigh
Apparently, I'm not done whining yet. Whodathunkit.
I promise, though, only one Nicholas-related gripe today. The rest involves the real, live people who I swear strive to make me question my reality.
Didja ever have one of those moments where you have to step back, reassess what you thought you understood about your niche in the workplace, and end up feeling like a complete idiot for even assuming things were going as well as you'd thought?
I've been at this particular facility for just shy of one year. Except for the corn nibblet who came and went faster than you can say twatbag five times fast, I've enjoyed a certain essence of camaraderie at my job. Sure, I'm not good friends with anyone, because these walls are pretty high, but we all get along, share the same "%*&$@" frustrations and "wow, that worked out well" moments; and in general, the crew I work with most keeps gossip to a bare minimum. Imagine my surprise when it was mentioned to me that one of my supervisors had a complaint. About ME. Why it was passed along from a peer, I do not understand nor appreciate; furthermore, I was thrown by the mere thought that I had not met or exceeded expectations! WTF? This is me we're talking about, and perfection is my hallmark. Damn.
Today I got The.Talk.
My college edjamkashun is learnin' me to be in the supervisory position sumday. Sometime, I be forgettin' just where my place be. I don't be axin questshuns an' stuff. I needs to remember that I'm only third string in the quartet and not get too big for mah britches jus yet.
Apparently, according to this bitter old maid who wants so desperately to be my mentor, "several people have complained", yet she was unable (or unwilling) to cite examples of my misconduct, much less squeal on the whiners.
So, I have now added paranoid to my list of personality disorders (ranking somewhere behind delusional, obsessive-compulsive, narcissitic, passive-aggressive, depressive, and just plain whack-o).
Here I was, flitting through my days nonchalantly, doing my job (quite well, I might add), blindly believing that I was part of the team, well-liked by my peers, respected by my subjects, hailed by my predecessors... all to have the red carpet yanked out from under my perfectly pedicured feet. The nerve.
Seriously, though. I hate the feeling that someone doesn't like me. Someone has thought long enough about me and become so fed up with me that they had to say something to others. I really dislike being the topic of conversation, in any manner. It is rather disconcerting.
I come home from work, and find THIS waiting in my mailbox. First birthdays are fun!
Which brings me to my final issue for today.
I placed an "in memoriam" ad in the newspaper, as is customary, to mark Nick's day. I told you, I wanted a pity party. (Besides all the Aunts, Grandparents, and Lodge members, there was another stillborn's remembrance in there as well, her 2nd anniversary. So sad.). I thought, at the very least, I would have a memento to laminate and put in his keepsake box.
Gerry called to see how I was doing. Not my parents, not the inlaws, not one single real-life local* friend or family gave a shit.
If it weren't for you exceptionally wonderful, amazingly special, truly-sincerely-awesomely appreciated people that live inside my computer, I would have been desperately crushed and horribly lonely during this week. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your kindness. You were incredible, and I can't begin to express how much it has meant to me.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
* C and J, who are not 'local': look for a lavish acknowledgement real soon. I promise. Stupid camera. Luv ya. :-)
posted by Julie at 1:32 AM
4 Comments:
you know, mediocre people are always threatened by the competence of others; anything above mere competence is downright terrifying to them and must be quashed. i encourage you to ignore the craptasticness around you, or to at least recognize it for the fear that it is, and keep your eyes on your goal. good luck to you.
(((((((hugs))))))) Yeah, nobody IRL called or said anything on my Nicolas' first birthday either. On his second birthday, *i* did the calling -- i called my mother, which was a huge mistake. I can't even fathom what i was thinking...
I am sorry for the crap at work, especially given the timing. You really don't need that s**t.
I am glad we could "be" there for you. My son's 2nd anniversary is coming up on March 17 and I am pretty confident not many, if anyone, from my real life will acknowledge it. It sucks.
I hope the work situation gets better. Sorry you had to deal with that this week, of all weeks. Sigh.......
There's nothing so unattractive as an incompetent old lady defending her position, is there??
She's a dinosaur, she will be extinct soon, and you probably *will* have her job, you young whipper snapper, you!
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