Whither Alexander?

If you are of a certain age, you remember a children's book by Judith Viorst called Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.





The point of the book is that some days are just going to be shitty.  Presumably, though you manage, regardless.  The big one that I remember is he was shoe shopping, and they didn't have the sneakers with the red stripe in his size, but both brothers got the ones they wanted.  I get this.

All of this is a prelude to telling you that today, I had kind of a rocky day, emotionally.  It started fine.  I had an appointment with TSA for a Pre-Check screening.  I got a great parking space, I went right in, I was done in mere minutes and didn't even have to pay parking.

And then, I got to work.

For starters, my badge was not in my bag, and I started to panic.  I ended up realizing it was at home and  I just needed to ask the receptionist for a loaner, so I did.

When I got to my desk, one of my colleagues said, "Look what the wind blew in...".

Well, here's the thing - I told our boss I was going to TSA before coming in and she said, "Great idea".

So, you know.  Keep your shade to yourself, unless you know what you're throwing.

Then she leans in and tells me she heard some people talking.  Apparently, I am violating a policy.  In fact, I shared the violation with you in yesterday's post, not even realizing I was doing it.  Here it is in close up:


That's right, folks, contraband rosemary!

Apparently, plants - live AND artificial are a no go.

I looked it up, and that's just a small part of stuff you can't do at your desk.

This is also against policy:


I went ahead and pulled the plant off my desk, but I'm leaving the fan.  One of the folks across from me has one.  If my managers ask me to pull it I will.

The thing is, the colleague telling me this was clearly enjoying knowing more than I did.   Here's something to know - if someone says they hate to be the bearer of bad news, they're lying.  It should go without saying that no one enjoys delivering bad news.  If they have to clarify, they doth protest too much.

That's just based on years of experience.

Anyway, it just kind of ate at me, and I grumbled to myself and I started to feel a little homesick.

I was feeling sorry for myself because all my friends are still two exits South on I-65, and I'm sitting at my desk with an illegal plant shoved into my purse, and I'm lonely.

I didn't leave for lunch.  I ate at my desk, and I spent the afternoon documenting a training session and getting a time sheet submitted.  I'm waiting on the green light to book travel for June.

I did set up lunch with my friend Jim for later this week.  Apparently, even though I miss the hell out of my friends, that's the only thing I'm missing, per him.  It's the same as usual there.

I need to get some contacts entered on my phone.  That's the next project, I think.

My boss gets back on Friday, so I'll get some more work there.

In the meanwhile, haters gonna hate.  Just kill the haters with kindness, right?

I turned in my loaner badge and left this afternoon feeling a little better, and drove home.  My gas light came on, so I pulled into Kroger to gas up and I couldn't find my wallet.  I unpacked my whole bag, plant and extra picture frames and all.  I couldn't find my wallet.  I was about ready to drive home on fumes, but I reloaded my purse, and it shifted a little and there was my wallet.

So, not only did I gas up, and save 70 cents with my Kroger Plus card, but I ended up picking up a few things I needed to make dinner.

I put a pork petite shoulder roast with carnitas seasoning into the pressure cooker, made some pico de gallo and pulled out the rest of the stuff for Taco Tuesday. 

Made a few artistic changes to my Facebook cover picture and profile picture, played with Piper and then Matt came home.  We ate dinner, and just finished watching the Preds beat the Ducks.  We're headed to the game Thursday.  I can't wait!  Dinner was excellent, too.  I'm doubling down on plant fiber.  Fruit, vegetables.  It's great.

Things are good, you know.  I may get my feelings hurt from time to time, but the thing is, I'm stronger and smarter now than I was 20 years ago.   I had a job working at a department store when I was in my early 20s, and one day, this gossipy woman mentioned to me that other people in the department thought I stayed at the register too much and never cleaned out the dressing rooms.  She was telling me because she was my friend and wanted me to know that people were talking about me behind my back.

I remember being terribly hurt by that info, but at the time, I wasn't self-aware enough to realize she was stirring up shit to feel important.  I just went into one of the dressing rooms, cried a little, pulled it together and got through my shift.  The thing is, I was "always" on the registers because I was (in my opinion) faster and better on them than some of the older women. I thought that was being helpful.  I did start to do more in the dressing rooms, but even then, I was paranoid that they'd think I didn't work the registers enough.

It wasn't the first time I'd been mean-girled in the workplace, and it won't be the last.

But if we get down to it, my desk is now reasonably compliant.  I am confident in my abilities to do my job, and do it well.   I know who to watch my back with, and who I think I trust.  But I'll be smart and vigilant.

Tomorrow will be a better day.  And if not better, then at least different.

ae


Comments

Monroe DeVos said…
You know....I get where you're coming from. Up until a few years ago I struggled massively with being the "most secure insecure person" I knew. You get to the point where you start to recognize the haters, the baiters, the pricks, etc. for what they are....haters, baiter, and pricks!
My desk has a plant, a stuffed moose, a haunted tabletop fountain, a backscratcher with a skull handle, a Cubone figurine, a couple of Lego people, a wind-up robot-thing, several monkey-related items, and a paper plate from yesterday's breakfast. Yet people still approach me and ask me to do stuff for them. I must be missing something...
I briefly worked in a call center. There was a lot of down time between calls so I brought a book and read. One day the supervisor walked over to the guy next to me and said, "Can you tell Chris what we don't do here?" The guy looked confused, then said, "Oh, yeah, we don't read."
The way the supervisor handled it irked me even more than having to sit there and stare mindlessly at the monitor between calls.