1.31.99
I've been thinking quite a bit recently about my life, where it is going; where it has been; where I am now (ooh, wasn't that a bad sentence?!?!?) I also have been looking at my options for the future, and what implications change might imply. I look at change as an inevitability, something that is the only true evidence of living, of being alive. If that is the case, why does it frighten me so?
The first change (and I've been saying this for a looong time) is and has to be the job. I simply cannot tolerate the poor management of the place. My immediate supervisor is clueless, even to the point that she thinks that her staff actually likes her, and wants to share her company.
Honestly, how naive can you be?
Any fool knows that the second that you step into a management position, that friendship with one's subordinates cannot and must not exist. If the manager persists in maintaining close relations with her charges, she cannot be honest and impartial when the time for discipline comes. That's important, because if it does not exist, she has no respect as a manager. "Teacher's Pet" is a title bandied about, and the entire staff can name those to whom special favours are frequently proffered. It exists clearly within our organization, and I cannot emphasize how terribly dysfunctional I believe the whole thing to be.
Besides, you wouldn't believe me....
Case in point, at a recent retirement party for a dear friend and comrade in arms, Julie, there was a party played where these teddy bears had various phrases attached to them. Some were positive, and some were rather insulting. The idea was that each of the partygoers was to match the teddy bear to the phrase. Overwhelmingly, the bear with "disappearing act" went to my boss, teaching her the lesson that when the feces near the fan, Poof! Gone!!! I won't say who got the "teacher's pet" bear, but I will say that the feeling was nearly unanimous. I wasn't at that party, and felt some guilt about not being there. Nobody mentioned if there was a bear with my name on it, and what that name was. Quite frankly, I'm not sure I would want to know. I try to avoid their parties whenever possible.
Why do I continue? Well, Dr. Bob always wants to fix everything. Could I take over my boss' job? There is an interest, I think in changing her job description brewing, and I would take her position for the sake of doing it, and effectuating change. Would I be allowed to? Probably not. the minimum job requirements are above my qualifications (for instance, the Director is required to be a professional registered nurse, which I am not) It was intimated by those in command that I might be considered for that position, but since then, a lot of water has passed under the bridge. I'm not politically correct enough, and I am certainly not a female. (which I think would help immeasurably.)
I am, however very highly respected by the staff, and am constantly making decisions that other people ought to be making but won't. That's where the 'Dr. Bob' moniker comes from, I'm no better than anyone else on staff, I simply have taken a real interest in transfusion medicine and epidemiology which fit into what I do quite nicely. I'm not afraid to argue my point when I know my shit, and when I don't or am unsure, I'm not afraid to use those three little words, "I don't know." You'd be surprised how few people can do that simple thing. For my bravery, I am rewarded with respect. I like that. It makes me feel good, and somehow keeps me plugging on, like Don Quixote.
One complication, though. My Desdemona went and flew the coop. More succinctly, she retired. I had made a promise that I would stay with the organization until Julie retired, and now that she has, I don't feel as guilty about digging out and moving on. Compound all of this with what I am calling "fin de seicle" anxiety, and a deep-seated need to move onwards and upwards.
Honestly, the last time that I really contemplated the (god I hate hearing this phrase more than anything else:) Y2K concept was in an essay that I wrote years and years ago to my best friend, Mike (The infamous Buddhahaha, who ironically is still my best friend) The essay was to be in the form of a letter written on January 1, 2000, and telling of the accomplishments that we had made in our lives, where we were, and where we were going. I wish I still had it. I remember it so well, and what a profound impact that silly one-page letter written in the fifth grade still has on my life. The one thing that I didn't get right was the fact that I had written that I had just had my contract renewed for another year as conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra, or some such venerable organization. (I've always wanted to be Eugene Ormandy, I guess.) That couldn't have been farther from the truth. Perhaps next year. You don't have to play an instrument to do that, do you?
The other thing that I remember writing in that letter, and undoubtedly that reason that I got an A on it, was the fact that the last paragraph stated in no unsure terms, that I was very glad and proud to have him as a friend, and that no matter how successful (or now, unsuccessful) I had become, that his friendship was the driving force, and the thing that was most important in my life. It still is.
If you'll excuse me, I'm going to cry and send an email. Never forget those important to you. They make the real difference. Later in the week, I'm going to tell you about a thing that I read in a Chineese restaurant while waiting for my carry-out dinner. It's a nice story about friendship.
The first change (and I've been saying this for a looong time) is and has to be the job. I simply cannot tolerate the poor management of the place. My immediate supervisor is clueless, even to the point that she thinks that her staff actually likes her, and wants to share her company.
Honestly, how naive can you be?
Any fool knows that the second that you step into a management position, that friendship with one's subordinates cannot and must not exist. If the manager persists in maintaining close relations with her charges, she cannot be honest and impartial when the time for discipline comes. That's important, because if it does not exist, she has no respect as a manager. "Teacher's Pet" is a title bandied about, and the entire staff can name those to whom special favours are frequently proffered. It exists clearly within our organization, and I cannot emphasize how terribly dysfunctional I believe the whole thing to be.
Besides, you wouldn't believe me....
Case in point, at a recent retirement party for a dear friend and comrade in arms, Julie, there was a party played where these teddy bears had various phrases attached to them. Some were positive, and some were rather insulting. The idea was that each of the partygoers was to match the teddy bear to the phrase. Overwhelmingly, the bear with "disappearing act" went to my boss, teaching her the lesson that when the feces near the fan, Poof! Gone!!! I won't say who got the "teacher's pet" bear, but I will say that the feeling was nearly unanimous. I wasn't at that party, and felt some guilt about not being there. Nobody mentioned if there was a bear with my name on it, and what that name was. Quite frankly, I'm not sure I would want to know. I try to avoid their parties whenever possible.
Why do I continue? Well, Dr. Bob always wants to fix everything. Could I take over my boss' job? There is an interest, I think in changing her job description brewing, and I would take her position for the sake of doing it, and effectuating change. Would I be allowed to? Probably not. the minimum job requirements are above my qualifications (for instance, the Director is required to be a professional registered nurse, which I am not) It was intimated by those in command that I might be considered for that position, but since then, a lot of water has passed under the bridge. I'm not politically correct enough, and I am certainly not a female. (which I think would help immeasurably.)
I am, however very highly respected by the staff, and am constantly making decisions that other people ought to be making but won't. That's where the 'Dr. Bob' moniker comes from, I'm no better than anyone else on staff, I simply have taken a real interest in transfusion medicine and epidemiology which fit into what I do quite nicely. I'm not afraid to argue my point when I know my shit, and when I don't or am unsure, I'm not afraid to use those three little words, "I don't know." You'd be surprised how few people can do that simple thing. For my bravery, I am rewarded with respect. I like that. It makes me feel good, and somehow keeps me plugging on, like Don Quixote.
One complication, though. My Desdemona went and flew the coop. More succinctly, she retired. I had made a promise that I would stay with the organization until Julie retired, and now that she has, I don't feel as guilty about digging out and moving on. Compound all of this with what I am calling "fin de seicle" anxiety, and a deep-seated need to move onwards and upwards.
Honestly, the last time that I really contemplated the (god I hate hearing this phrase more than anything else:) Y2K concept was in an essay that I wrote years and years ago to my best friend, Mike (The infamous Buddhahaha, who ironically is still my best friend) The essay was to be in the form of a letter written on January 1, 2000, and telling of the accomplishments that we had made in our lives, where we were, and where we were going. I wish I still had it. I remember it so well, and what a profound impact that silly one-page letter written in the fifth grade still has on my life. The one thing that I didn't get right was the fact that I had written that I had just had my contract renewed for another year as conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra, or some such venerable organization. (I've always wanted to be Eugene Ormandy, I guess.) That couldn't have been farther from the truth. Perhaps next year. You don't have to play an instrument to do that, do you?
The other thing that I remember writing in that letter, and undoubtedly that reason that I got an A on it, was the fact that the last paragraph stated in no unsure terms, that I was very glad and proud to have him as a friend, and that no matter how successful (or now, unsuccessful) I had become, that his friendship was the driving force, and the thing that was most important in my life. It still is.
If you'll excuse me, I'm going to cry and send an email. Never forget those important to you. They make the real difference. Later in the week, I'm going to tell you about a thing that I read in a Chineese restaurant while waiting for my carry-out dinner. It's a nice story about friendship.
<< Home