Work is worse. My manager didn’t back me up this morning when I was trying to enforce policy. Instead, she overruled my decision, and decided to use it as a teaching moment to explain to me that this is why people think I’m so stubborn.
My assistant called out sick this morning. And then another person quit. That makes 15 since April. I’m starting to wonder when Corporate is going to offer an incentive to get the rest of us to stay and clean up the mess. No joke: When 38% of your staff jump ship, it’s time to appreciate the people who are still around.
I’ve been mulling something over these last few days. There’s something about reading a bunch of studies about millennials that makes me sad for our generation.
“They’re not likely to stay at a job for more than three years.” Why is that? Do we have a massive sense of entitlement? Are we a fair weather friend to the organizations we work for?
I got a fancy new tablet from my hubby for my birthday, anniversary, Christmas! Windows 10 (not sure if it’s worth it yet) and it has a keyboard that attaches magnetically.
By the end of the day, I’m so fried I don’t want to blog, but this way I can write during my lunch break and not have to re-type it to blog it later! Hooray!
Thinking about yesterday:
Every time I speak I hurt vomit at an unsuspecting victim. It makes me ill to think about the things that have come out of my mouth this past week. This is the downside of being a verbal processor.
Is it really all the fault of my need for verbal processing? Yes, I think it is. But I need to channel that process. I need to write it – pray it – not say it. I’m liable to bleed all over the public interest if I don’t. They’ve already proven that they don’t give a shit. Generally speaking, the world around me is just trying to get out of the way of my Irish blood rage.
In the past five days I have yelled at both my kids, had a sobbing fight with my husband, reamed one of my best friends for her behavior toward one of her family members, got into one major and several smaller arguments with my manager, nearly took the head off one of my vendors at work, threatened to terminate every vendor working on my portfolio, sent an infuriated email to my school’s financial service office, and came unglued with an undertrained Target employee.
Thinking about this past year, my head is in a whirl. Last fall I was battling depression on a level I had never experienced. Since then I’ve managed to naturally treat my depression, come to peaceable terms with not carrying my own children, refocus my energies, return to school full-force, gain legal guardianship of my goddaughters… Oh, and I found out I got a raise today 🙂
This is the cup that I take out when I want coffee, and it’s ten o’clock. (The cup I grab when I need coffee is much larger, and I fill it with strong, Peet’s French Roast.)
This is a comfort cup of Joe, which I’ve missed. Little pleasures seem to have a lot of space in between lately.
I fell asleep listening to an episode of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman on my phone last night; the first media entertainment I’d had in days. It’s not that I’m fanatical about the show. I like Jane Seymour, but I think it’s just the good, old fashioned things that comfort me, when women had long hair and long dresses, and men tipped their hats.
We’ve evolved as a society, but I wish we could have saved some of the courtesies we once had. I wonder if we would appreciate them, though. Did women take advantage of “gentlemanly behavior” they way we take advantage of things like texting? I bet they did.