I called my friend’s cell this morning and got his voicemail. it said “hey y’all, not in, leave me a message…..” I wondered how he knew it was a y’all on the other end and if he too could hear the voices fighting over who to stab first and whether to use a #2 pencil or a bic stic. It reminded me that sometimes you gotta throw rocks. (to prevent the stabbings) I haven’t released in a while and my rocks are piling up and getting heavy. The little trivial ones are meh… but still, gotta let them fly. Better watch out, I don’t throw like a girl.
If you want to piss me off, one sure-fire way to do it is interrupt/talk-over my phone call or try to give answers (that I haven’t asked for) to things you can’t hear on the other side of the call. This kind of micro-managing, death-grip on control bull shit does not bode well with me. If I need an answer I’m big enough to ask. I’m also not dumb and won’t give out misinformation. Thus… I learn more and more how not to be a boss. I’ve been in situations where I supervised several and funny when it came time to evaluate the words “micro manage” and controlling were never part of the gig. I know this may be shock considering the personality I own, but it’s different when you are playing for someone else’s team. Use strengths and balance weaknesses. This is good management. Throwing… throwing…
Redundancy is another one… why do I have to write a hand written receipt for something that was submitted electronically and printed for the customer??? What kind of paper/time wasting bull shit is this? and I don’t need you to tell me the exact same thing you sent me in an email 3 minutes before to make sure I got the email. Of course I got the fucking email! You heard the little bink as it came in when you hit send from 3 feet away. oh, oh, and if you ask me to do something and I tell you I will and give you a time-frame… I will do it. No reason to ask me 15 times if I remembered to order your whatever. redundancy… throwing, throwing
and…. I am not your wife/mother/servant/slave/secretary whatever… and I don’t know who allowed you to speak to those people the way you do and order them around like they work for you, but I do not. The way you talk to someone in public when asking them to do something for you they didn’t have to is “Would you please…?” or “would you mind…?” or even “I’d appreciate it if you could…” not “tell him this” or “do that”. My response will likely be um… k and not friendly like normal where in my head I’m saying fuck yo couch.. do it your damn self until you go out and find some manners. Your money does not impress me and neither do the eleventeen initials after your name. I am living proof that all is not as it seems because the cute little girl at the front desk is probably more qualified to run your shit than you are. yeah… the things we’ll do for health insurance. (okay and to escape the arm-pulling money bandits of the HA casino) throwing, throwing…
okay, okay… I should stop soon. But the biggest rock in my bag this moment is the negative rock. The I didn’t even listen but am going to comment rock. I know you may have worked there and hate most of the people in the building. I also know a hand full of them are douche-bags. But… (big but) I am not you. I am capable of letting go of situations (most especially those not involving me) and walking in clean. Just because it’s a possibility doesn’t mean I’ll do it. When I call… ask how it went before you launch into a tirade about how I can’t and they suck. This is about my life. Not yours. Heaving, throwing… watching for toes….
Oh, yeah… I interviewed at a law enforcement portion of the county. One my mom has worked for with not such pleasant experiences. It’s a mighty big place and I’m a damn good worker. My skills are good and my interview went well. I am well. I am smiling at the little things, the surprise lunch with bf today, the new friend I am enjoying eating sandos with, remembering I throttled my very competitive friend a dominoes last night. There is a certain satisfaction in that. I feel like my bag is empty enough to carry. The rocks are thrown and I will leave them be.
