Conflict

I never liked conflict. Some people thrive on it. And, some even like to cause it so they can feed from it. I’ve never understood the appeal. Personally, I find conflict nerve wracking, nauseating and really counter productive.

I grew up in a large family, with two brothers and sisters and a set of parents who rarely saw eye to eye. Though in defense of my dad, he didn’t like conflict either. My mother on the other hand seemed to need it. I don’t know why—perhaps it made her feel alive. Perhaps the rush of adrenaline and the intense emotions made her blood course, her heart pound and imparted a sense of euphoria. It could be. Or maybe she was unhappy because the course of her life didn’t follow the path she expected. I learned in my adult years that my mother was a talented artist and I was shocked because there was never a hint of artistic desire displayed when we all lived under one roof. It saddens me that my mother didn’t pursue her art in some way. Although it does explain her almost manic encouragement of my writing.

Anyway, conflct…the family history certainly contributed to my abhorrence of it. Also if all that crap about being a middle child is correct, then by nature I’m a mediator, a peace keeper—someone seeking mutual agreement and happiness of those around her. Sounds nice in theory but the downside is that you turn into a pleaser, which is good for others but often works against you.

There is a difference between a pleaser and a doormat, although many miss the finer nuances. A pleaser attempts to accomplish peace, a doormat wants to be stepped on. A pleaser will sacrifice for the greater good, while a doormat sacrifices to acheive victimhood. You can’t piss off a doormat but you sure as hell can piss off a pleaser. And if you do, watch out. It takes an awful lot to anger a pleaser, to surpass their patience and willingness to understand and defer. But it can be done. And once you piss off a pleaser there is no more stubborn creature on earth.

Pleasers don’t like to fight but if forced into a corner no one goes toe to toe better than a pleaser. Patience and understanding does not equal weakness. Truth be told if you try to force a pleaser, they can make shock and awe look like child’s play. And then you’re going to see some serious conflict. So yeah…conflict…hate it but I don’t run from it either.

copyright 2010

Stricter Security in Airports? Eh?

There is nothing like stupidity to get your interest, eh? I happen to catch this article this morning while perusing Yahoo headlines. I read the whole thing and I still can’t see how the guy got on the plane with a bomb strapped to him. How does this happen, inquiring minds want to know.

For pity’s sake, I can’t get through security with my shoes on (even flip flops) or even a bottle of sunscreen, yet this fellow got through with a body bomb on an international flight??? Somebody explain this one to me. Don’t they have metal detectors in Amsterdam? Surely the triggering device had to have some sort of metal parts? Am I up the wrong tree on this? I must be.

Seriously, how pathetic is this? I am so paranoid of the liquid police who go out of their way to test shampoo and body wash that I stock up on sample sizes – cuz God forbid I should bring some secret liquid soap onto a plane, yet this guy waltzes on an international flight with explosives. Jeez, I must be shopping in the wrong pharmacy.

Though maybe they were just being sensitive and politically correct and didn’t want to pick on someone who might actually fit the profile of a terrorist. God forbid you should offend somebody – better to ignore the guy sweating bullets, and toting a prayer rug than to offend them. Better to go after some obnoxious American and check their iPod for lethal music and waste the other 99% of the law abiding passengers’ time, who are  simply trying to get home. Oh yeah, I have to say my hat’s off to security.

Kudo’s to the fellow who jumped the inept terrorist and saved some lives. Quick thinking my friend and thank you. No props security – sorry but when I can’t even bring a standard sized tube of toothpaste on a plane and you let this guy skate – you’re just not on the ball, my friends.

The downside to all of this, is that we, who simply try to fly anywhere and behave and do as we’re told, will probably have to submit to strip searches. Screw it – maybe the next time I fly I’ll just come naked. It will sure save on luggage fees.

WC

You’re Not the Boss of Me

 

I had a very interesting conversation with an employee the other day. This particular employee has been giving me a hard time since day one and really drives me up the wall.

It started as a dispute over an error on her timecard – I’d shorted her a half hour. I told her so, after she complained and offered to cut her a check right then and there or to add it to her next paycheck. She insisted it was more than that, and essentially I wasted an hour teaching her math so she could understand, in fact, it was a half an hour. Now this girl is a medical assistant and can’t seem to do basic math. Are we alarmed yet?

Of course, the conversation didn’t end there – oh no, there were many things that had to be discussed. Temper tantrums and flashes of anger, which I advised her to knock off and she did sort of…

As the time ticked off and essentially I was being paid to deal with this whining girl and she was being paid to whine to me, we got to the crux of the matter. She informed me that she was taking two vacations over the next 8 weeks. Two vacations???? This girl hasn’t even worked here a year, and has taken one week already to go to Hawaii and a long weekend to go to Vegas. Apparently there is a family reunion and a cruise she absolutely must go to.

Now, look, I don’t like to spoil people’s fun and I don’t really mind trying to work something out so people can go to things like family reunions and so forth. But give me a break – she expects to be given off essentially four weeks during the a course of 9 months employment. Call me crazy but I’ve never worked anywhere that would give that kind of time off in such a short employment.

And the kicker is, that she didn’t ask me. She told me. Like, “Oh, by the way, I’m taking these dates and these dates off. I have a family thing and then I’m going on a cruise.”

Eh? I asked her if she could take them at the same time, schedule them back to back so it would only be one leave. Oh no, can’t do that. Because her boyfriend is paying for it. When asked if she could persuade her boyfriend to schedule the cruise right before or right after the reunion, she said “I can’t afford to take that much time off at once.” Excuse me?

She can’t afford to take that much time off. So what? I’m supposed to be worried about her finances while she throws the practice into mayhem because she’s leaving on her little trips? She doesn’t have anyone who is coming to cover her, nope, she figures her supervisor can just cover for her during her absence.

So, I say, “Well if your supervisor can cover you during your absence, then why do I need two medical assistants?” You know? Why? If the supervisor can do all the work that needs to be done, what the hell is she doing?

Ooops, no answer for that one. Nope, she has to think about that. Kind of like her math problem, she just doesn’t know the answer. She just knows that she wants what she wants and she’s going to tell me and I’m going to do it.

“You’re not the boss of me, ” I tell her. “It may come as a shock, but I’m actually the boss of  you. And I just don’t know if we can give you the time off. Sorry.”

“Well, what are you going to do,”she asks. “Fire me?”

I smiled wryly and left the room.

You know, she’s been awfully nice to me since then. Let’s see if that lasts.

WC

Hope Your Weekend…

is going better than this little guy’s.  Sorry, I just can’t stop laughing. Oh, and Happy Mother’s Day to all the mommy’s out there. Hope you are all treated like queens and at least get some flowers and breakfast in bed.

WC

Bastard!

 

Okay, so this weekend was kind of odd and surreal. The weather was like something out of an Emily Bronte novel – in fact, I could almost hear Cathy and Heathcliff whispering to each other – so I immediately went into a sort of hibernation-stasis mode.

To my delight, my friend J was in town and we had dinner and some great conversation and were up til all hours. I caught up on some posts and reading and things seemed, well…okay.

Then I decided to drag my sorry ass out to put gas in the car because of course, I didn’t want to try that on Monday morning. What did my eyes see? Broken tail light glass shattered in the middle of the street. I thought, I better pick that up because I don’t want to drive over that. Which I did…and then some little voice said, oh-oh. I didn’t want to, no, I really didn’t but I walked back to look at the back of my car. There is was – a big gash and broken tail light. My beautiful car has been hit and then they ran.

Bastard, bastard, bastard all to hell! Shit, damn, fuck! I cried a little because my beautiful car had been marred. It was perfect and now it isn’t. No note. No, I’m sorry. No, nothing. Sonofagun!

Roomie helped me retrieve as many of the pieces as we could and is as we speak out there with handyman-guy trying to put the pieces back together. It could be worse, yah, it certainly could be worse – but damn!

Because I didn’t see anything the only thing the police would do is take a phone report for the insurance company. Yeah, like I’m going to tell them about it. Sigh. It’s always something. Crap! Please God, let the tail light still work and just have the cover need replacing. And please God, let my mechanic know some body shop guy who can fix it without it being too painfully expensive. And thank you God, for letting the auto parts place be open so I could buy that stupid red tape to cover it up for now.

I guess that $200 filling is going to have to wait, eh?

Like I said, it could have been worse and I’m thankful it wasn’t too bad. Now, I guess my car is like me – kind of pretty but definitely flawed.

WC

Really Stupid Shit Part Deux

I know you’ve all been out there waiting with baited breath for a sequel to this really popular post because when you get right down to it, you just can’t get enough stupid shit. But I like to change things up lest I end up in a rut, so rather than favorite stupid shit – I think we’ll go with annoying stupid shit this time out.

Ready? Good. Here we go

Stupidest remaining Idol Contestant: Tie. Sanjaya the bad singer with the good hair and blindingly white smile – who couldn’t sing if his life truly depended on it. He is only still on the show because weeping pre-teens can’t tell the difference between love and their impending hormones. It’s sweet in a real icky kind of way. But I hate to break it to you folks, he is one of the Top Ten. Any arguments that maybe they should have stopped at season 5?

The other ‘idol’ vying for the title is Chris Sligh (Sly? Are you kidding?) who is the self-appointed “Taylor” contestant for this year. He acts like a dark horse (he thinks), sings the same songs/material as Taylor (tries to Christ-i-cize it?) and just goes off key and nasal, does the fro thang, strolls through the crowd but looks like he wants to slap them out of his way rather than interact. Oh and his fans are calling themselves the Fro-Patrol. Excuse me while I puke. This kid is about as sincere as Paris Hilton while she is hanging out with her girlfriends’ boyfriends unchaperoned. He is the biggest phoniest jackass of a contestant I’ve seen on the show. I’ll bet the voice isn’t really his – he probably pipes it in through his ass from some high tech Ipod mike accessory. Pass the barfbag.

Stupidest Title for a movie – Mimzy or some shit. I don’t CARE if it is good. You just don’t call a movie Mimzy if you expect anyone over the age of three to go see it. Hey Joe, see any good movies lately? Oh yah Marge and I saw Mimsy – it was really fabulous. Jeez – come on!

Stupidest Talk Show Host: Rosie O’Donnell. What her producers seem to be missing is that talk show hosts are supposed to encourage the guests to talk. Not to slap them, gag them and force feed them their personal, commie, leftie, eco-whacko, insane-o views. Or am I missing something?

Stupidest TV Show: Oh there are soooooooo many but let me pick one from the new batch of shows. Now, mind you I am not going after any reality shows since in my mind they really aren’t tv shows but more like amatuer contests that are televised. No, I’m going after real, shows that are supposed to be real. Okay – Studio Sixty. I mean, hello? What the frick are they thinking here? First of all is Amanda Peet really going to go for Bradley Whitford? The guy has a huge head, it’s even a little scary. Imagine that coming at you ladies for a little good night smooch. Oh yeah. And then Matthew Perry is so schizoid he needs at least 10 offices for all his personalities and the girl he is supposed to be in love with is just too normal to ever really be attracted to a malignant narccissist like him and all his self-righteous spewing crapola. And remember folks, this is supposed to be a comedy, which means funny, right? While really all they are doing is tripping over themselves to spout whatever political ‘message’ is cool and p.c. and see who can talk the fastest. In a phrase it SUCKS!

Stupidest Rock Star: Hands down Bono: Where oh where do I begin? Okay, first of all is he really even that good of a singer? He is ugly as sin – so ugly in fact, he has to wear sunglasses everywhere he goes so the ugly rays do eat the flesh from his face and that of his fans. But what really makes him suck is this pompous, sanctimonious world peace faux world leader act of his. Does he really think anybody (who doesn’t want to get free tickets to rocks concerts populated by other pompous egotistical rock stars) is even remotely interested in his world plan? Sorry bub, but you actually have to get elected by people who know they are electing you, in order to have a say in what my country is going to do about anything. And by the way champ, get the hell out of the U.S. and U.S. affairs, who the hell asked you? How do you get off even hinting at what my tax dollars should be spent on? How dare you take my tax dollars and take credit for what they buy. Kiss my grits, dude. Big time.

Stupidest shit people do to their kids: A picture                             

is worth a thousand words. It’s not bad enought that this child is probably going to be raised by some doped up biker dude and biker chick, they have to turn him into some sort of mini me before he can even learn the words to protest. This mirror image approach to child rearing is just another disease of the yuppified self-absorbed. They don’t want to have children for the joy of having them and raising them to be their own man or woman – but rather they want to raise little clones of themselves so that they will be immortal.

Stupidest phrase: Politically Correct. What in the hell is correct about talking gibberish. I mean under what set of rules, grammar or otherwise does any of this doubletalk even begin to be correct? As for politics – we all know politics are lies and run by the lying liars who lie to get into office. So if something is politically correct isn’t the translation something like perfect lying?

Stupidest Shoes: Those sneakers that are really skates, no they are sneakers no they are skates, no they are sneakers that are skates – they are two, two, two shoes in one. What they are is an accident waiting to happen. It’s bad enough some fool came up with the idea but people are putting them on 6 year old who barely have enough sense not to play in the street much less navigate skating shoes down shopping market aisles . Which of course they don’t and they run smack into you and glare as though you are the cause of all their unhappiness. Between junk food, computers, Ipods and the fact that poor little Johnny shouldn’t have to actually walk to anyplace in the world (not even bed) this ain’t helping in the fight against adolescent obesity.

Stupidest Disease: Again, sooooooooooooooooo many to choose from but let’s go after restless leg syndrome. I mean, come on is this really a disease? From what I’ve read it’s just a magnesium deficiency, which I’d guess you could fix by taking magnesium. Why does every little thing that happens have to be a disease or a genetic defect? Why in the hell isn’t there one damn thing that people are supposed to be responsible for?

Stupidest News Story: The paternity of Ana-Nicole’s daughter. Come on folks, is this really news? I mean are things out there in the big, wide world, so easy going and calm and uneventful that who fathered an aging sex symbol’s daughter gets the headline banner. Not just once but for weeks? Really? So, like world hunger, world peace, tornados, beheadings, none of that takes precedence? Just what I thought all journalists are pussies and idiots who didn’t get their parents’ moneys worth on those fancy prep schools they all attended.

Other things that are just plain stupid pisser offers:

1. People who are too afraid to drive their cars. These are the folks who cause accidents and claim to be in them.

2. Claiming the price of gas is all because of the evil oil companies, with no mention of the taxes, initiatives, regulatory fees and every other little piece of garbage that is added to the price of gasoline which is hidden. No…let’s not tell the truth, let’s blame the guy that provides the goods.

3. Property taxes. Explain something to me, if you own something why would you pay someone else a tax for owning it? What Einstein thought this one up and why the hell does anyone pay it?

4. Giving anyone too young to pay for one on their own, a cell phone. What is the matter with parents today? They give 8 year olds cell phones and Ipods and then wonder how they get hit by cars. Aren’t kids absent-minded enough, you really have to give them things that will completely blot out the world around them? Why not just invest in that Matrix Condo Development now?

5. That cashiers can’t count. You know a bagillion years ago I worked as a waitress and often had to take money at the cash register. So if the bill was $2.26 and they gave you a five so you would count their change back to them like this: 27,28,29,30, 40,50,75, $3, $4, and $5. These days, they take the receipt and pile the bills and the change on top of that and jam it into your hand while peeking at the register to see how much they gave you. Not to mention the fact that they expect you to get the hell out of the way because the guy behind you is about ready to explode because you want to put your change back in your wallet before you grab your bags.

6. Restaurant workers who don’t speak english or have such a difficult time speaking it you cannot understand a word they say – especially at the drive through window. Sorry, but if you’re in America I believe you must speak English well enough to be understood – because if you can’t speak my language do you really think I’m going to trust in the fact that you’ll get my order right or my change? Get real.

7. The cigarette police, the fat police, the second hand smoke police (take your pick) they are the self-appointed assholes who must save society from itself while getting a whole of power for themselves too. Personally, I’m holding out for the bullshit police. I’d love to have some yahoo come along and save all of us from the bullshit that we’ve had shoveled on us from day one. I mean, have you ever asked yourself why it is that despite the trillions of dollars that have been donated and funded into heart disease, cancer, AIDS and so on that there is still no cure for any of it? Don’t you wonder why? Seriously? I’ll tell you why – it’s because they are now cottage industries that hire tons of people who would actually have to find work if cures were found. Most of that money never gets to the level of those who honestly want to find cures or solutions – it gets stuck at the administrative level. Please go save someone who needs saving and leave me alone. I am willing to accept responsibility for my actions.

8. Social Security and Medicare: Is there anyone of my generation out there who has any dillusions that they will collect one cent of the social security and medicare we have funded over our working careers? Anybody? Cuz if so, I have a bridge in Brooklyn you might want to take a look at.

Alrighty then, that’s about all my wee brain can come up with today. Feel free to add to the list.

WC

It’s Official – They Hate Me

 

Okay, so you all know that the new job has been rough from the beginning. But today was the ultimate – one of my staff informed me that they all hate me. Just call me office road kill. Imagine my joy at the news.

Followed by the doctor getting in my face about something, followed by the consultant making fun of me for being upset. I don’t think I’m going to make it there.

 I think I am just the wrong person for the job. I have no one to talk to – and feel like such an outsider there it is just misery.

The worse part of it is – that my blogging has really sucked since I started the job too – which really pisses me off.

I don’t know what I’m going to do – I don’t even know what I can do. Tomorrow I have lunch with the doctor and the consultant – during which I expect them to get on me about whatever – so that will be a meal I won’t be eating.

I never knew I was so unlovable and in fact detestible. Gives one pause, you know? Sorry for the whining but it’s the only thing I can really think about right now.  Can you say, ‘head exploding’?

WC

The Yeah-Whatevers

Lately, it seems I’ve gotten myself a bad case of the ‘yeah-whatevers’ know what I mean? It’s that space you have to get yourself into to protect yourself from the insults and injuries of modern living.

You know like you spend hours over a post and finally get it up and nobody comments. You shrug – ‘yeah, whatever.’

Your readers feel like pimping their posts in your comments section – ‘yeah, whatever.’

You spend $1300 to fix your car only to have it blow a valve 3 weeks later – ‘yeah, whatever.’

Your family decides it’s your turn to get dumped on and criticisms fly across all modes of communication – ‘yeah, whatever.’

Sanjaya makes it to the top 12 on Idol – ‘yeah, whatever.’

You work your ass off for your company all year only to be given sea sickness for  your Christmas bonus – ‘yeah, whatever.’

The old lady next door sells her house to a flip-em dude who is doing round the clock cosmetic changes on the house so he can sell it in a month – forget about any peace and quiet on the weekend – ‘yeah, whatever.’

No matter what you do or don’t eat, your ass just keeps getting bigger and bigger – ‘yeah, whatever.’

Your dog has become some neurotic old lady of a dog who barks non-stop at some invisible interloper, ‘yeah, whatever.’

The only filling you need to get re-done will cost you $189, ‘yeah, whatever.’

Gas is over $3 a gallon just as your commute to work has tripled, ‘yeah, whatever.’

Heroes is on hiatus again, ‘yeah, whatever.’

You basically just have so many nifty things to be depressed about you can’t even pick a favorite, ‘yeah, whatever.’

I’m trying though – I really am trying to get out of this funk. And no I am not bringing in the dah noise with dah funk. I’m trying to find things to be cheerful about. Like my birthday (oh boy now I’m even older) and the prospect of a new car (can’t wait to have yet another monthly payment and more insurance) my new wardrobe (cuz now I’m fatter than I was) but it’s not easy.

Pray for me. Or join in the fun of your own ‘yeah, whatevers’ At least the weekend is upon us. That’s good right?

WC

Snappy Office Come-backs!

 

Hey – ever get a little tongue-tied at work? You know, somebody chaps your hide and you just sit there like a kid with an IQ of 30 or something? Then about 15 minutes later your mind kicks in again and  you think of all manner of things you should have said? Well here’s a little list you can keep under your keyboard for those very occasions – you can even laminate it so coffee spills won’t hurt it. Good luck and hope it helps.  

1. Never give me work in the morning. Always wait until 4:00 and then bring
it to me. The challenge of a deadline is refreshing.
2. If it’s really a rush job, run in and interrupt me every 10 minutes to inquire how it’s going. That helps. Even better, hover behind me, and advise me at every keystroke.
3. Always leave without telling anyone where you’re going. It gives me a chance to be creative when  someone asks where you are.
4. If my arms are full of papers, boxes, books, or supplies,  don’t open the door for me. I need to learn how to function as a paraplegic and opening doors with no arms is good training in case I should ever  be injured and lose all use of my limbs.
5. If you give me more than one job to do, don’t tell me which is priority. I am psychic.
6. Do your best to keep me late. I adore this office and really have nowhere to go or anything to do. I have no life beyond work.
7. If a job I do pleases you, keep it a secret. If that gets out,it could mean a promotion.
8. If you don’t like my work, tell everyone. I like my name to be popular in conversations. I was born to be whipped.
9. If you have special instructions for a job, don’t write them down. In fact, save them until the job is almost done. No use confusing me with useful information.
10. Never introduce me to the people you’re with. I have no right to know anything. In the corporate food chain, I am plankton. When you refer to them later, my shrewd deductions will identify them.
11. Be nice to me only when the job I’m doing for you could really change
your life and send you straight to manager’s hell
12. Tell me all your little problems. No one else has any and it’s nice to know someone is less fortunate. I especially like the story about having to pay so many taxes on the bonus check you received for being such a good manager.
13. Wait until my yearly review and THEN tell me what my goals SHOULD have been. Give me a mediocre performance rating with a cost of living increase. I’m not here for the money anyway 

Feel free to add any to the list that I’ve overlooked. 😉
WC

(PS: HT to A-Mum for the list – come back soon Moe)

How Was Your Day at Work?

(HT to A-Mum for pic – WC)