OOPS AND A RANT

I guess that’s what I get. I was telling my darling daughter about blogging and some of my favorites…and, yep, she read mine. So from here on out I guess she won’t be open game for her mother’s mocking ways. Of course, there is always the grandson. Heh Heh Heh

My complaint today has to do with work. Not my job…I love my job. I work for a socially conscious girl’s magazine that emphasizes inner beauty and positive role models for girls. No, my job is great.

What is not so great is this new “touchy feely” approach to management and worker teamwork. “Clear communication.” “Belief Matrixes” “Honest feedback” All of these require taking time away from my job to learn and grow. Damnit, I don’t want to grow anymore…and unless it’s a new trick for excel I don’t want to learn it.

I am the second oldest employee in this office consisting of women from the age of 22 to 62. So, yeah, there are some communication difficulties. For example, I am sorry that you have emotional, boyfriend, diet, period or family problems. But, you know what. This is work. This is not time to come and ask what you should do about….not having a real boyfriend, losing fifteen pounds, what your mother said to you that really hurt your feelings, or why you “bloat up and cry” two of the weeks of your four week cycle.

It’s not that I don’t care, but, no, wait, yes it is that I don’t care. I raised my child, she is wonderful. I know that you think “nobody knows the trouble you’ve seen”, but I’ve got a few stories of my own…that would make you realize that growing up in the Midwest, having parents pay tuition, working at a place where you are paid well and not harassed are things to be celebrated.

I come to work to work. You are not my friends. I like you all right, but goddamnit, my friends don’t whine. My friends do not expect me to change so their feelings don’t get hurt. When was the last time someone ever told you directly what they were really thinking? Get used to it…I won’t be rude, but I won’t mince words. Get over it.

I love it when someone says they have to quit because they are under-appreciated and no one understands them. You’re getting paid aren’t you? No one yells at you, do they? And, we pay for your childcare, your health insurance and eleven holidays a year, including International Women’s Day.

And, now, because we don’t seem to be functioning as a team, We have to become acquainted with a Team Building Concept. Let’s “Share.” Let’s “Work Together.” Let’s “Waste Some More Time” when I could be doing the cash flows and budgets for next year.

Does this sound harsh? Good. Attitude is something hard to develop and more difficult to maintain. Could you just figure out how to hug yourself and get out of my space?

Here is my advice to those who work:

1. For the hours you are paid, you are expected to work. Chatting is fine, but does not include anything more personal that talk about food, movies, or what you saw on TV last night.

2. I’m glad you have a family…and I will look at their pictures once. I may see them again when I come to your station to see why you coded a travel expense as supplies, but do not expect me to comment on them.

3. When I get off, I have a life. I do not want to go for a drink and have “away from work time.” Give me a couple of drinks and I can tell you even more colorfully what I think of your whining.

4. I’m glad you work here, but just because you get your work done on time doesn’t mean I am going to juggle and whistle and yell, “Atta, girl!” That’s what you’re paid for.

5. Get a blog. Write whatever you want about whomever you want and if it’s about me, I don’t care, because that is what the button on the mouse is for. I can move on, and so should you.

Well, did I say I loved my job? I do. It’s this damn interpersonal relationship that chaps my butt. Did I mention that I'm not in management? (For which many are grateful!) Did I tell you I was married three times? And, last but not least, did I tell you that I really don't give rat's ass.

Hope this wasn't too harsh, rough couple of days...can you tell?