I have gotten to the point where my direct supervisor's voice (fortunately not a person with daily overseeing of me) has become irritable. Hearing it on the phone once a week in a conference call is more than enough.
She sounds earnest, or "earnest." Like a teacher's pet sort of earnest. And, not at any grade level. Not an elementary school teacher's pet, nor a high-school one. Rather, it's the special earnestness of a middle school teacher's pet.
And, since she's the daughter of the owner of our company as well as my supervisor, there's not a lot I can do. Other than write something about it, like this extended haiku.
That voice -- make it stop.
Eighth grade, come-on to teacher;
Whatever drives it.
The word is "earnest."
I've used it before, for people
Who come off like this.
But I have neer
Come across it this bad before
And I can't change it.
Boss: I can't change her.
Job: I can't change it for now.
But my attitude?
I can "accept" this;
Don't ask for my reaction.
And, anything else?
Other, I could do --
But will not. Like it, I won't;
Not now, nor later.
Breaking camel's back,
It grates my mental chalkboard.
Vocal styrofoam.
Add to this that I'm shorthanded right now, I'm not sure one recent replacement has nailed down everything financially yet, I'm stressed, and I'm in a declining town in a declining industry, and I can't get out!
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Saturday, August 2, 2014
Changes and transitions in family
I have a family of one, myself. However, for reasons of shared past and other things, I've long been closer to my sister -- a fair degree to a lot closer on serious issues -- than to any of my brothers. And, I consider my brother-in-law somewhat the brother I never had.
They moved to one part of central Texas about the same time I moved to an area less than 150 miles away. Then, 7 months later, I moved to just about 35 miles away. So, for almost two full years, I was over at their place (my small town had nothing special to attract them here) about every Saturday, and occasionally on a weekday.
I've often called my niece and nephew, their kids, the kids I'll never have. Without pontificating, I gave my niece a "growing up" letter in her card, and long with gifts, as she became a teen earlier this year. And my nephew? I've tried to have fun with him, including teasing while hoping I've not been overdoing things.
And now they're gone.
They moved a week ago to Arizona.
In some areas, I wasn't tremendously close. Matters religious vs secular, of course. But, they never preached at me, and in fact, my brother-in-law, a minister, gently tried to deflect a few probing comments by my nephew, 9, over the last months. And, while they're overall conservative, they don't trend from partway to fully wingnut, unlike my brothers.
It will probably take a week or to, especially a couple of Saturdays of trips over to where they lived, where I'll still do some bigger-city shopping, bigger-city library usage and more, then realizing that ... "oh, it's time to head back home" and it's not "let's drop by for dinner," or "what are you doing this afternoon" to all sink in.
Having their presence nearby, in a small town that's not just a small town, but a still-shrinking one, with a high rate of rural poverty and a fair degree of parochialism, and stresses over my job here in the newspaper biz, an industry that I still can't get out of, was a bit of soothing, a bit of destressing. And I don't have that any more.
So, it probably will take a few weeks to sink in. A couple of Saturdays.
That will probably include the realization that, on my end, even to the degree I compartmentalize my life, I didn't talk to them on some serious things as much as I could have.
They moved to one part of central Texas about the same time I moved to an area less than 150 miles away. Then, 7 months later, I moved to just about 35 miles away. So, for almost two full years, I was over at their place (my small town had nothing special to attract them here) about every Saturday, and occasionally on a weekday.
I've often called my niece and nephew, their kids, the kids I'll never have. Without pontificating, I gave my niece a "growing up" letter in her card, and long with gifts, as she became a teen earlier this year. And my nephew? I've tried to have fun with him, including teasing while hoping I've not been overdoing things.
And now they're gone.
They moved a week ago to Arizona.
In some areas, I wasn't tremendously close. Matters religious vs secular, of course. But, they never preached at me, and in fact, my brother-in-law, a minister, gently tried to deflect a few probing comments by my nephew, 9, over the last months. And, while they're overall conservative, they don't trend from partway to fully wingnut, unlike my brothers.
It will probably take a week or to, especially a couple of Saturdays of trips over to where they lived, where I'll still do some bigger-city shopping, bigger-city library usage and more, then realizing that ... "oh, it's time to head back home" and it's not "let's drop by for dinner," or "what are you doing this afternoon" to all sink in.
Having their presence nearby, in a small town that's not just a small town, but a still-shrinking one, with a high rate of rural poverty and a fair degree of parochialism, and stresses over my job here in the newspaper biz, an industry that I still can't get out of, was a bit of soothing, a bit of destressing. And I don't have that any more.
So, it probably will take a few weeks to sink in. A couple of Saturdays.
That will probably include the realization that, on my end, even to the degree I compartmentalize my life, I didn't talk to them on some serious things as much as I could have.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
A little DABDA
A little
DABDA
A little
DABDA will do ya,
Or so, the
grieving are told.
But there’s
no right way, or wrong way, to mourn
Even if
there are more common, and less common, ways.
Sometimes,
loss doesn’t involve denial.
A death, a
divorce, or similar, has been long anticipated.
Likewise for
anger; it’s been wrestled with
And
exhausted,
Before the
loss.
Likewise for
bargaining.
Depression?
More common, and more normal,
Even before
acceptance, which may never fully come for some.
Sometimes,
they overlap.
Emotions,
after all, aren’t discrete.
Sometimes,
one emotion is experienced
Two or more
times, even if others aren’t.
And maybe,
just maybe
A little
DABDA will do ya,
For things
besides loss.
Like
depression, even if it’s a “D” itself.
Or anxiety.
Don’t we
deny our own emotions at times,
Or longer
moods,
Or more
complex psychological states?
Of course,
especially if there’s reason for us to do that.
Don’t we get
angry at being depressed,
Or
frustrated at being anxious?
Yes.
Unfortunately,
bargaining aside,
Depression
or anger don’t fully disappear.
A little
DABDA
A little
DABDA will do ya,
Or so, the
grieving are told.
But there’s
no right way, or wrong way, to mourn
Even if
there are more common, and less common, ways.
Sometimes,
loss doesn’t involve denial.
A death, a
divorce, or similar, has been long anticipated.
Likewise for
anger; it’s been wrestled with
And
exhausted,
Before the
loss.
Likewise for
bargaining.
Depression?
More common, and more normal,
Even before
acceptance, which may never fully come for some.
Sometimes,
they overlap.
Emotions,
after all, aren’t discrete.
Sometimes,
one emotion is experienced
Two or more
times, even if others aren’t.
And maybe,
just maybe
A little
DABDA will do ya,
For things
besides loss.
Like
depression, even if it’s a “D” itself.
Or anxiety.
Don’t we
deny our own emotions at times,
Or longer
moods,
Or more
complex psychological states?
Of course,
especially if there’s reason for us to do that.
Don’t we get
angry at being depressed,
Or
frustrated at being anxious?
Yes.
Unfortunately,
bargaining aside,
Depression
or anger don’t fully disappear.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Anger .... why do I want to deny it?
I didn't get a job I was hoping to get.
And, here's why, if I try to put numbers on it.
Overall, my estimate is that is was about 40 percent no "fault" anywhere, 40 percent age discrimination, even if primarily unintentional or subconscious, and 20 percent bad interviewing. I felt a good rapport with my interviewer. But, as noted, "social media" is at the top 1/4 of the first page of my resume. And, I was never asked detailed questions about social media; in fact, I don't recall really being asked at all about it. Some, something, somehow, is kind of rotten in the state of Austin.
And, yet, I'm trying to defend an interviewer who seemed like a "good guy," while the numbers say that it was more than 50 percent his fault that I didn't get the job.
And, I want to say that I was shown courtesies during the interview process. At the same time, I've been shown courtesies during other interview processes that were even more "formulaic," at best.
So, I am not ready to deny my anger, tamp it down, or mingle it with other emotions to subsume it under "frustration."
NO, I'm angry.
I think I was somewhat mistreated in a job interview. I think I was likely the best candidate for the position. And, I wasn't given the full opportunity to show that, in my opinion.
And, part of the somewhat mistreated, even with the courtesies, feels like I was "used" a bit. I may be at a point in my life in general and recovery life in particular where I'm sensitive, even a bit over-sensitive, to that. But, that's better than not recognizing that I've been used until 6 months, or 6 years, after the fact.
I have a right to be angry about something like that. And I shouldn't hide that from anyone, above all not from myself.
And, here's why, if I try to put numbers on it.
Overall, my estimate is that is was about 40 percent no "fault" anywhere, 40 percent age discrimination, even if primarily unintentional or subconscious, and 20 percent bad interviewing. I felt a good rapport with my interviewer. But, as noted, "social media" is at the top 1/4 of the first page of my resume. And, I was never asked detailed questions about social media; in fact, I don't recall really being asked at all about it. Some, something, somehow, is kind of rotten in the state of Austin.
And, yet, I'm trying to defend an interviewer who seemed like a "good guy," while the numbers say that it was more than 50 percent his fault that I didn't get the job.
And, I want to say that I was shown courtesies during the interview process. At the same time, I've been shown courtesies during other interview processes that were even more "formulaic," at best.
So, I am not ready to deny my anger, tamp it down, or mingle it with other emotions to subsume it under "frustration."
NO, I'm angry.
I think I was somewhat mistreated in a job interview. I think I was likely the best candidate for the position. And, I wasn't given the full opportunity to show that, in my opinion.
And, part of the somewhat mistreated, even with the courtesies, feels like I was "used" a bit. I may be at a point in my life in general and recovery life in particular where I'm sensitive, even a bit over-sensitive, to that. But, that's better than not recognizing that I've been used until 6 months, or 6 years, after the fact.
I have a right to be angry about something like that. And I shouldn't hide that from anyone, above all not from myself.
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Moving on on sobriety support
I'm planning on not running for re-election to the board of directors of the secular sobriety support organization where I've served the last few years.
And, I'm glad, for several reasons.
First, to the degree that the alpha-beta (and gamma!) theory of human social structure is true (hint: it's not all that true among wolf packs, let alone among humans), I'm a gamma. I'm not a real leader, but I'm not a real follower, either. Give me a basic sense of security and structure, or the possibility thereof, and I'm marching to my own drum.
Second, a recent board change wound up changing larger board dynamics. That said, the one changed board member has decided not to run for a full term. But, that person triggered other dynamics, other dominoes within the board, that don't totally float my boat either.
I've now returned fire in what could be a developing email argument. I won't disclose confidences, and I don't know if I would stand up as well to this person in person, but I don't like bullies, male or female. (And, yes, there are female bullies too, including some who bully men; that's why there's women who commit domestic violence.)
Beyond that, I feel on an island. To get to an annual convention, I'd have to drive 2.5 hours to an airport in a major city, and even then, nonstop flights are becoming more limited, or else drive 30 miles to the nearest airport and take a puddle-jumper to the big city. And even the big city flights have ... well, they've skyrocketed since I last flew anywhere three years ago.
Finally, with job-related stresses (the largest single advertiser at the two small newspapers where I am publisher, a local grocery story, sold out to a chain last year, hitting our bottom line a sharp ding), I don't need the stress of the changing board dynamics.
That said, I've learned some things about group dynamics. That includes noting that the person I perceive as a bully decided not to run again after I made my announcement.
I've also learned that, per the old phrase that "to make an omelet, you have to break a few eggs," that doesn't mean that you have to break them with undue force, or spatter them.
And, I'm glad, for several reasons.
First, to the degree that the alpha-beta (and gamma!) theory of human social structure is true (hint: it's not all that true among wolf packs, let alone among humans), I'm a gamma. I'm not a real leader, but I'm not a real follower, either. Give me a basic sense of security and structure, or the possibility thereof, and I'm marching to my own drum.
Second, a recent board change wound up changing larger board dynamics. That said, the one changed board member has decided not to run for a full term. But, that person triggered other dynamics, other dominoes within the board, that don't totally float my boat either.
I've now returned fire in what could be a developing email argument. I won't disclose confidences, and I don't know if I would stand up as well to this person in person, but I don't like bullies, male or female. (And, yes, there are female bullies too, including some who bully men; that's why there's women who commit domestic violence.)
Beyond that, I feel on an island. To get to an annual convention, I'd have to drive 2.5 hours to an airport in a major city, and even then, nonstop flights are becoming more limited, or else drive 30 miles to the nearest airport and take a puddle-jumper to the big city. And even the big city flights have ... well, they've skyrocketed since I last flew anywhere three years ago.
Finally, with job-related stresses (the largest single advertiser at the two small newspapers where I am publisher, a local grocery story, sold out to a chain last year, hitting our bottom line a sharp ding), I don't need the stress of the changing board dynamics.
That said, I've learned some things about group dynamics. That includes noting that the person I perceive as a bully decided not to run again after I made my announcement.
I've also learned that, per the old phrase that "to make an omelet, you have to break a few eggs," that doesn't mean that you have to break them with undue force, or spatter them.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Ready for new growth at 50
A long-time sobriety friend of mine recently sent me a long email in response to one of mine. She talked about second winds of personal growth, often years after the first one. (She, too, is a "survivor.")
It sounds a bit new agey at times, but she talked about "saying yes" to more things in life as part of "letting go." I could stand some additional inner change, and inner steel. And, I wouldn't mind better outside "scenery" while I'm at it.
Worrying over finances at two struggling small newspapers, in a part of the world where I don't want to live, doesn't help a lot.
And, I know I've got issues inside, still.
Brother No. 3 recently wrote talking about his own anxiety issues over the years. I partially empathize, but partially not. In his own way, he's never taken more responsibility than Brother No. 1, even if not arrogant about it, and even if sinned against as well as sinning.
Speaking of, I cried when one of the survivors was talking during the "Secrets of the Vatican" on PBS tonight. I probably have more tears yet inside of me, somewhere. I'm realizing more and more the depth of problems in my family and, going back generations, while I know a fair amount about multi-generational problems on my dad's side of the family, suspect that not all of my mom's adult problems, or close, can be pinned solely on problems with her relationship to dad.
I would so love to curl up in a ball at times.
Meanwhile, part of me is glad that I stayed by my internal childhood vow to myself, with an intuition of an "old soul," not to marry. I didn't "pass on" anything to kids. Nor to a spouse. Nor did I leave myself open to manipulation by one.
It sounds a bit new agey at times, but she talked about "saying yes" to more things in life as part of "letting go." I could stand some additional inner change, and inner steel. And, I wouldn't mind better outside "scenery" while I'm at it.
Worrying over finances at two struggling small newspapers, in a part of the world where I don't want to live, doesn't help a lot.
And, I know I've got issues inside, still.
Brother No. 3 recently wrote talking about his own anxiety issues over the years. I partially empathize, but partially not. In his own way, he's never taken more responsibility than Brother No. 1, even if not arrogant about it, and even if sinned against as well as sinning.
Speaking of, I cried when one of the survivors was talking during the "Secrets of the Vatican" on PBS tonight. I probably have more tears yet inside of me, somewhere. I'm realizing more and more the depth of problems in my family and, going back generations, while I know a fair amount about multi-generational problems on my dad's side of the family, suspect that not all of my mom's adult problems, or close, can be pinned solely on problems with her relationship to dad.
I would so love to curl up in a ball at times.
Meanwhile, part of me is glad that I stayed by my internal childhood vow to myself, with an intuition of an "old soul," not to marry. I didn't "pass on" anything to kids. Nor to a spouse. Nor did I leave myself open to manipulation by one.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Being single: The plus side
Yes, it can get lonely in a household of one.
And, yes, not all marriages are bad. But very few are so "sanctified" that there's almost no argumentation, at least of high levels, almost no disagreements on parenting issues, and, especially in today's world, how to juggle different career demands of two spouses, especially on issues like moves and relocations. And, beyond marriages, and children, the career and "sanctification" issues apply to non-marital longer-term relationships of other sorts.
I'm sure that part of why I don't handle criticism so well is I got so much of it, in different ways, from dear old dad, even though I was a second shot at an oldest son in some ways.
And, I know the reason I don't handle argumentation well, whether in an intimate relationship, other relationship, or even more casual connection, is how much of it I heard between mom and dad late at night.
It's probably kind of late to learn too much improvement in the intimate relationship side. And, as I've said before, it's "safer" being single.
Besides no worries about argumentation or yelling, there's no worried about being controlled or guilt tripped. Nor any eggshell feelings that I might be doing those things accidentally myself. And, sexuality issues aren't a worry, either. Yes, I still have hormones, but, should those hormones get satisfied again, I'd be more comfortable with them being satisfied in a less confining? tense? challenging? situation.
Add in a family disposition to anxiety (albeit not nearly as bad as Atlantic editor Scott Stossel's gut-wrenching affliction), and being single is safer.
I'd just like to get to a job/career situation, and location, where I'm ready to settle down, and get a dog. Sorry, not a cat. Beyond mild allergies to cats? They're too independent-minded, and don't have deep brown doggy eyes.
And, yes, not all marriages are bad. But very few are so "sanctified" that there's almost no argumentation, at least of high levels, almost no disagreements on parenting issues, and, especially in today's world, how to juggle different career demands of two spouses, especially on issues like moves and relocations. And, beyond marriages, and children, the career and "sanctification" issues apply to non-marital longer-term relationships of other sorts.
I'm sure that part of why I don't handle criticism so well is I got so much of it, in different ways, from dear old dad, even though I was a second shot at an oldest son in some ways.
And, I know the reason I don't handle argumentation well, whether in an intimate relationship, other relationship, or even more casual connection, is how much of it I heard between mom and dad late at night.
It's probably kind of late to learn too much improvement in the intimate relationship side. And, as I've said before, it's "safer" being single.
Besides no worries about argumentation or yelling, there's no worried about being controlled or guilt tripped. Nor any eggshell feelings that I might be doing those things accidentally myself. And, sexuality issues aren't a worry, either. Yes, I still have hormones, but, should those hormones get satisfied again, I'd be more comfortable with them being satisfied in a less confining? tense? challenging? situation.
Add in a family disposition to anxiety (albeit not nearly as bad as Atlantic editor Scott Stossel's gut-wrenching affliction), and being single is safer.
I'd just like to get to a job/career situation, and location, where I'm ready to settle down, and get a dog. Sorry, not a cat. Beyond mild allergies to cats? They're too independent-minded, and don't have deep brown doggy eyes.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Feeling empty, feeling scared, feeling a fraud
The "fraud" part? About a month ago, a woman came in our office. A customer. Used the n-word before she left. I said nothing. Yes, it was in part shock. But, I had recovered before she walked out the door. And I said nothing.
The scared? Ad sales at the two small newspapers are struggling this month. National trade mags predict total newspaper ad sales will drop 8 percent this year. That, presumably includes allowances for election ads. And, for the few newspapers holding their own or growing because of oil boom growth or other things, a few others will thus have drops of more than 8 percent.
When the Saturday Waco paper is normally just 20 percent ads, you know it's not just me, and it's not just Loren. It's this area. But, that will be called an excuse.
Feeling empty? No, I don't feel I can talk to my district boss about this. Nor any family, for various reasons. Certainly not the other two people in the office.
This isn't meant to be playing the martyr, hand to back of head. It just is what it is.
The 50s are starting out to be a wonderful decade of aging.
I recently journaled that I sometimes feel like someone whose shit does indeed stink, and stinks very much, in relations to other people. That they know that, that I should know why, but that I'm somehow missing a clue while they're laughing at me.
The scared? Ad sales at the two small newspapers are struggling this month. National trade mags predict total newspaper ad sales will drop 8 percent this year. That, presumably includes allowances for election ads. And, for the few newspapers holding their own or growing because of oil boom growth or other things, a few others will thus have drops of more than 8 percent.
When the Saturday Waco paper is normally just 20 percent ads, you know it's not just me, and it's not just Loren. It's this area. But, that will be called an excuse.
Feeling empty? No, I don't feel I can talk to my district boss about this. Nor any family, for various reasons. Certainly not the other two people in the office.
This isn't meant to be playing the martyr, hand to back of head. It just is what it is.
The 50s are starting out to be a wonderful decade of aging.
I recently journaled that I sometimes feel like someone whose shit does indeed stink, and stinks very much, in relations to other people. That they know that, that I should know why, but that I'm somehow missing a clue while they're laughing at me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)