I’ve been dealing with major suckage at work. I have more projects than I can handle, an endless list of questions that I can never get answers for, and people that take little interest in what happens on my side of the cubicle. I plowed through a ton of work the past two days, but I just got asked to take on another assignment, the Professional Organization for Women’s retreat is this upcoming Tuesday, and I have to work next Sunday.
I told the Beth, the POW president, (who happens to work in my department) that I might not be able to attend because I’m sort of drowning. She couldn’t even hold back her contempt. She asked me if I understood the enormity and the importance of the organization and this annual retreat. I busied myself and tried to slink away from the interrogation. Instead of harassing me she could have shown some compassion for my workload. Beth’s office is one of the big assignments I’m dealing with. Her manager is having a bon voyage and their assistant retired. My boss and I are doing all we can to keep them from falling into a black hole of bureaucracy. All we get from them is a heap of complaints.
I let Beth’s comments roll off my back, but only because I had practice with her kind the previous night. I started a new writing class on Wednesday, and the woman who sat next to me, Gwen, was wretched. She’s one of those middle-aged hags who are so self-important but have nothing to base it on other than the fact that they are busy with meaningless nothings. Whatever. Maybe she’s a nice woman with a community spirit. Either way, she made me feel like I had no right to be in the room with the other forty odd (and I mean ODD) wannabe writers. I know Eleanor Roosevelt said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent,” so I guess Gwen got a hold of a forged permission slip…
Despite these two women and their disparaging remarks, I feel okay with where things are headed. I know I have a lot to learn at work, and one of those things is saying NO. I probably need to drop out of POW. My heart really isn’t in it. I’m going to end up resenting the people even more than I already do if I don’t speak up. I also know that I may not be a prolific writer, yet, but at least 36 people read my work on a daily basis. Gwen should be so lucky!
So, I found sunshine in all the gloom and doom.