Month: September 2016

Have you ever had a bad day that just wouldn’t go away? Mine has lasted a week so far. I don’t even want to crawl out of my hole that I’ve self-created for fear of more destruction. Once, in college, I heard that a definition of depression is not feeling happy for more than three weeks.
What’s wrong you ask? A thousand little cuts I say. The loss of something tenuous with a friend, not having the ability to comfort another one, the isolation that I myself experience. I’m never alone but sometimes I’m ALWAYS alone. The loss of a pet at work, cases experiencing complications, too much riding on just me, the frustrations of trying to be a great mom and feeling like I’m failing at it.
And I thought to myself tonight, as I was frantically trying to get all the dishes done, the clothes washed, the kid’s week organized, I thought- “In all the time that I’ve been working with a management company, I can’t recall anyone ever saying that I was a good boss.” Maybe I’m not cut out for this. I always thought that I was relaxed and reserved enough not to lose it in the workplace, but I did last week, and my nerves seem constantly near the surface.
I’m embarrassed to be me. And I’m pretty sure all the groveling in the world isn’t going to make it better and, since I did make my bed, I’m pretty confident that I should lie in it. Any thought of getting out and just leaving is beyond complicated. But the thought of a new start somewhere else is sweet and cloying.
Don’t get me wrong, I have the support of a huge amount of my community- if I didn’t I would have cut and run a long time ago (It’s just too hard for me to overcome my need to please others). But sometimes I just feel mired. I’m sure everyone does. I even tried to start a professional women’s blog for feelings like this, but it went over like a lead balloon- maybe we’re all too busy to actually participate.
So I guess I’m going in to the office in the morning and apologizing yet again (not that I will ever apologize enough), and PRETEND that I’m ok. Maybe if I pretend I’m ok, I will be eventually.

I had an electronic post-it today. Remember the iconic breakup in “Sex and the City” where the guy Berger breaks up with Carrie on a post-it? Well, welcome to the new generation. Now these jewels come in the form of text messages.

You see, I’ve never been able to see my coworkers as just coworkers. They are my family. I invite you in to my “circle of trust,” and I am involved. These are, after all, the circle of people who protect me from bites and kicks, help me clean up my messes and with whom I spend the majority of my waking hours. We support each other through thick and thin. We laugh, make jokes and enjoy each other.

So I received a two-week notice the other day. Big, happy news requiring some big changes. Then, BAM!, a few days after, we got a text message saying that it was too hard to finish out two weeks and look for a new job. Yep, you read it right- via text!

What the heck?

First, as a friend all I can say is, wow? I can’t say I’m surprised at the rashness or even at the type of communication.  But I would like to call you out on that. You. Know. Better. How did this situation differ from last time?

Second, as an employer, WOW. In one fateful day, you have wrecked my schedule, put more stress on your ex-coworkers and given yourself an outstanding asterisk in your recommendation, should you ever be brave enough to ask for one (and it wouldn’t surprise me).  Where is the capable common sense that I hired?

I was discussing the post-it in a joking manner with another client and he burst out that this is the problem with that generation, no responsibility, no owning up to the fact that someone else’s life is majorly affected by what should be a relatively small inconvenience to you.  I was taken aback by his passion that this Millennial generation is so screwy. I’d like to give them more hope than that. My optimism urges me to.  Do we think that there is hope?

Should we text and ask them?