a letter to the boss
Not enough sleep, and not deep enough either. Another very trying day yesterday. Had to do the event on Thursday, since Maruxa was sick - another pneumonia, it looks like, although not such a bad one. Moka was sick too. I keep telling people they look sick and they should go home, and they keep ignoring me...
The event went fine, it was chaotic and fun. I would definitely repeat it. Yesterday was dominated by the contract affair - got the feedback from the central, sent a corrected version to the boss, got no answer. Was close to tears during the Christmas lunch. Afterwards she sees me in a corridor and says "I have NO information from you about the contract." "I sent it to you this morning..." "DO YOU THINK I HAVE TIME TO READ EMAILS I GET FIFTY A DAY AND I HAD VERY IMPORTANT MEETINGS." So I print out the amended contract, attach the emails from the legal department, attach the email I wrote her. Wait until 20:00, go to her office. "WHAT IS THIS PART I TOLD YOU TO CUT IT." "The legal office said I should keep this part in." "WHERE DOES IT SAY THAT YOU DON'T GIVE ME INFORMATION YOU HAVE TO INFORM ME I AM THE BOSS." "Here, see, in the emails I attached, it's all here, you just have to turn the page." "I DON'T HAVE THE TIME TO TURN THE PAGE HOW WOULD I KNOW THERE WAS A PAGE TO TURN YOU DON'T GIVE ME INFORMATION." "I wrote in on the post it on top of the document, here: 'amended contract, information and email-exchange attached." "I DON'T HAVE TIME TO READ POST ITS EVERYONE THINKS THEY'RE SO IMPORTANT HERE MY TIME IS WORTH NOTHING YOU THINK I'M GOING TO READ YOUR POST ITS?" "..."
You don't know me, and I am so so happy about that. No matter how you yell at me, no matter how unfairly you treat me, no matter how anxious you make me - I get to come home to my books, to my music, to my films, to a man who has bought nachos and white chocolate cookies and fake mushroom soup because he knows I've had a hard day. I eat my mushroom soup while watching a silly movie and I think - she doesn't have this. Then I read Boswell's "Life of Samuel Johnson" while drinking herbal tea and think - she doesn't have this. She doesn't even know who Samuel Johnson is. It gives me satisfaction, it gives me strength. And it allows me to pity you, to understand you. You live in fear. You live in chaos. You believe you are not being respected. And when you dress me down and I am calm and collected, when I present arguments to support my point of view, and then, when you tell me you don't want to hear any more about it, and I just nod and look at you with a serious expression - it makes you furious. I can see that. You don't want me to be calm, to be sure of myself. You want to see me flustered and stuttering, fumbling for words, lost, ignorant. So you choose to interpret my calmness as *attitude*. "I can't abide that attitude", you say. "You have a problem with authority, you can't take it when a superior tells you you've done something wrong." I *do* have a problem when I am not allowed to explain why a chose a particular course of action. If I could do that, and then the boss would tell me they see it differently, I accept that. If you want to work out a system so you can be informed of what I do, to supervise more closely, that's perfect, let's do that, or I'll work it out for you. I *want* to be supervised, I want you to know what I plan so you can tell me what you like and what you hate. I won't do things you hate, even if I love them. You're the boss, you'll be here for one more year, I'll do whatever. But mistrust takes time. You'll have to read my reports, you'll have to take the time to tell me how you want it done. There's only one thing that will not change, and that's my *attitude*. That's who I am. It has taken me a long time to get here, and I will not change it for you.
The event went fine, it was chaotic and fun. I would definitely repeat it. Yesterday was dominated by the contract affair - got the feedback from the central, sent a corrected version to the boss, got no answer. Was close to tears during the Christmas lunch. Afterwards she sees me in a corridor and says "I have NO information from you about the contract." "I sent it to you this morning..." "DO YOU THINK I HAVE TIME TO READ EMAILS I GET FIFTY A DAY AND I HAD VERY IMPORTANT MEETINGS." So I print out the amended contract, attach the emails from the legal department, attach the email I wrote her. Wait until 20:00, go to her office. "WHAT IS THIS PART I TOLD YOU TO CUT IT." "The legal office said I should keep this part in." "WHERE DOES IT SAY THAT YOU DON'T GIVE ME INFORMATION YOU HAVE TO INFORM ME I AM THE BOSS." "Here, see, in the emails I attached, it's all here, you just have to turn the page." "I DON'T HAVE THE TIME TO TURN THE PAGE HOW WOULD I KNOW THERE WAS A PAGE TO TURN YOU DON'T GIVE ME INFORMATION." "I wrote in on the post it on top of the document, here: 'amended contract, information and email-exchange attached." "I DON'T HAVE TIME TO READ POST ITS EVERYONE THINKS THEY'RE SO IMPORTANT HERE MY TIME IS WORTH NOTHING YOU THINK I'M GOING TO READ YOUR POST ITS?" "..."
You don't know me, and I am so so happy about that. No matter how you yell at me, no matter how unfairly you treat me, no matter how anxious you make me - I get to come home to my books, to my music, to my films, to a man who has bought nachos and white chocolate cookies and fake mushroom soup because he knows I've had a hard day. I eat my mushroom soup while watching a silly movie and I think - she doesn't have this. Then I read Boswell's "Life of Samuel Johnson" while drinking herbal tea and think - she doesn't have this. She doesn't even know who Samuel Johnson is. It gives me satisfaction, it gives me strength. And it allows me to pity you, to understand you. You live in fear. You live in chaos. You believe you are not being respected. And when you dress me down and I am calm and collected, when I present arguments to support my point of view, and then, when you tell me you don't want to hear any more about it, and I just nod and look at you with a serious expression - it makes you furious. I can see that. You don't want me to be calm, to be sure of myself. You want to see me flustered and stuttering, fumbling for words, lost, ignorant. So you choose to interpret my calmness as *attitude*. "I can't abide that attitude", you say. "You have a problem with authority, you can't take it when a superior tells you you've done something wrong." I *do* have a problem when I am not allowed to explain why a chose a particular course of action. If I could do that, and then the boss would tell me they see it differently, I accept that. If you want to work out a system so you can be informed of what I do, to supervise more closely, that's perfect, let's do that, or I'll work it out for you. I *want* to be supervised, I want you to know what I plan so you can tell me what you like and what you hate. I won't do things you hate, even if I love them. You're the boss, you'll be here for one more year, I'll do whatever. But mistrust takes time. You'll have to read my reports, you'll have to take the time to tell me how you want it done. There's only one thing that will not change, and that's my *attitude*. That's who I am. It has taken me a long time to get here, and I will not change it for you.