Friday, June 12, 2009

blast from the past...

I wrote this post a short while back, mebbe 4 or 5 weeks ago. It's funny to me that Thursday I realized how much less stress I've been under now that I don't work where I used to work. In fact, I realized that most days I don't even think about the nightmarish vista of landmines and pitfalls which used to comprise my work on a daily basis, all courtesy of an arrogant cuss whose very policy seemed to be "if it ain't broke, mess with it until it is." A sage soul once told me that working with that individual was a trial by fire, and that after that, no job I ever had could possibly be so stressful. Perhaps that would have been a good time to become an air traffic controller. Anyhoo, I'm out, and I don't miss it. Even after 6 weeks at the new job (hard to believe!), I'm not halfway through the training process. Still, things seem to be going well and I'm enjoying a greatly reduced stress level, mainly because I never have exchanges like the one detailed below:

Sunday I went to Dallas on a couple errands, and I was dazzled by the rude and heavy traffic in town for a midday Sunday. I fairly howled "I don't miss this!" Anyway, I'm well away from that. A thousand things irritated me, and I felt the stress of it all melt away as I drove beyond the city limits to head for the hacienda. Then I remembered my former job and how trying it was to work in an environment where priorities shifted at the dictate of someone who expected everyone else to be telepathic. I wrote this conversation down the day it happened several months ago:

Him: Are you going to let this plant take over your office?
Me: I think it looks fine but if you want me to trim it, I will. Do you want me to trim it back?
Him: No. I want you to trim it when you want to trim it.
Me: I don't mind. If you want it cut back now, we'll cut it.
Him: No. Just don't let it take over your office.
Me: Just let me know when you want us to cut it.

He didn't want me to do things when I think they need doing- he wanted what I wanted to alter according to what he would do. Add to the frustration of this sort of conversation the fact that such things usually happened when I was busy trying to tend real issues of a pressing nature.

The irony was that in times of crisis or pressing need, it was vital that I be able to think independently and solve problems, but other times we'd have sticky wickets over little inconsequential details like the growth trajectory of a potted palm somehow ekeing out an existence in a sterile, indoor office environment.

I don't miss this, indeed.

I'm tickled as can be to live where I do now. Life is sweet. :)


Anonymous said...

It IS such a shame to have such a good job were the people are swell and things generally go smoothly, and to have this nasty little person make it so miserable.

Special Message to Phlegm former employer:
"ya don't get the lard unlessenya boil the hog" SO, I'm doing a good job for you, you sad, powerless man. I'll see you at our "one or two hour meeting tomorrow" to go over all the stuff we've been over already. Thrice. You waste of air, space and time. But, don't forget, Jesus loves you:)

PS- he butchered the plant the week after you left, over several days. I don't look at it. It's just some spikes with leaves lower down, naked and confused. The plant told me it wishes the butcher would go get a job as a greeter at Wal-Mart.

Old NFO said...

Amazing how a simple move changes perspectives :-)

charlotte g said...

Dysfunctional managers can be more harmful to quality of life, I think, than family at times. You CAN stop talking to the vicious family member for a while, but talking to the manager is part of survival. Often such people make it difficult to keep your equilibrium long enough to make a fruitful change. You did it. You are happy. And that unfortunate former boss is still wondering why he isn't happy. So he pokes at someone else. Blue skies for you, honey! ;)

rickn8or said...

Moving to a less-stressful job is almost as good as a pay raise, innit??

g bro said...

A. "Don't let it get out of control. I won't tell you when; you'll know when to cut it." Prople who say things like that are control freaks thriving on the anxiety they create.
B. I love the appearance by the office Deep Throat. It lends such a sense of intrigue!