Friday, October 19, 2007

Victim Mentality

I'm leaving my job. I'm leaving my job. I'm transferring. I've demoted myself. I'm going "back to the bench."

My choice to leave management has been met with mixed reactions. Every single day a person I don't even know comes up to me and says, "so I hear you're leaving us." Every person that asks why, I give a different explanation to. But I haven't even mentioned the real reason to anyone: I'm not getting anything done. I sit in my office and look like I'm working, but I'm not. At the end of the day when I leave the office, I think what did I do today? And I can't answer the question. I can name all kinds of people that I've talked to and all kinds of crap that I've signed. I can usually say I've successfully avoided nodding off at my computer. Does that count for anything?

It's funny how when you become somebody's boss, all bets are off. To antithesize what they say in the Real World intro: people start being polite and stop being real. Every single person who works for me has a different personality than they did while I was their peer. They lie and they cover up each other's mistakes. I think that I've been a better leader to them than my boss will be in my absence, but they don't know that I know that.

The problem with being the only supervisor is that no one understands what I go through. How I know what they're saying about me. But they also don't know how much I sit and feel sorry for myself. How, yeah, you know, that big pimple on my forehead? It's there because I've been stressing out because your child's illness isn't covered by your insurance benefits and your $12,000 in debt because your claims have been denied and I feel like it's partly my fault because I was the one who hired you.

How, um, you know how you asked me for a raise because you're such a "great" [half-ass] tech? Yeah, I'm stressing out because I don't know how to tell you that you don't deserve it. So, I'm going to chicken out and refer you to HR. You know, 'cause I'm a big pussy and I shouldn't be doing this job. That, and, I don't want you to not like me. Sucks, huh?

Oh, ah...and you know how you deserve to be fired because you're late, incompetent, sullen, ungrateful, disrespectful, defensive, smelly, and endanger our patients on a daily basis? Yeah, um...HR won't let me fire you. That, and, Rumsfeld thinks that you'll improve. She doesn't care if you don't improve for another ten years, just as long as you show some improvement at some point. So go ahead and show up whenever you want to and fart and complain and take home your paycheck. And I'll still give you a bad review on your annual evaluation, but don't worry, HR will still give you a raise.

And, yo, how after Robert died you told people to go out into the hallway if they needed to cry because it was distracting to you??? That day, I wanted to fuck you up big time. And I had trouble forgiving you for that, especially because you never apologized. And you never mourned.

It's been a long two years for me. I'm ready to go back and remember why I'm here to begin with. I'm ready to feel like I'm good at something for a change. And I don't have to make anyone happy anymore.

I'm leaving.