It’s Pretty Dirty Business

How to Work with Psychotic Managers is a topic that I am familiar with, and apparently a few of you out there are seeking answers to this age-old quandary.  Shall I expound on this for a bit?

Tips from a Pro:
  1. Smile all day long.  Do everything with a smile.  Be the sunniest person you can when you’re facing the world (aka the office).  Save your scowl for your cubbyhole of a desk.  Smiling will deflect some of the nastier possibilities your psychotic manager is brewing.  It will also piss him or her off because their main hobby in life is getting you riled up.  Don’t give them the benefit.
  2. Leave a long paper trail of all the work you’re doing.  If you document everything you do, said boss can never throw your lack of work ethic in your face.  Your psychotic manager spends much of his or her time figuring out how to make your life hell, give them as few reasons as possible.
  3. Be your most charming self.  I know I said I couldn’t teach you how to be charming, but I’ll try.  Ask your psychotic manager questions that flatter his or her ego.  Talk about their kids and what a wonderful job they did raising them.  Talk about things they like—like cats and golf.  Ask them the secret to their success.  Make them laugh if you can.  Use your quick thinking to engage your manager in witty repartee.  It will make him or her feel smart and superior.
  4. Find out their hot buttons and steer clear!  Conversely, find out what they love and offer to help them get it as often as possible.  If your boss loves coffee, be the first to offer to get it.  If he or she likes to take long lunches, keep your mouth shut and tell the to have fun and take their time!  Encourage them to spoil themselves with mani-pedis on Fridays or that expensive bottle of wine they’ve been coveting.  Give them a pat on the back—hopefully this will keep them from you stabbing you in yours!

Some people think psychotic managers shouldn’t be encouraged in their wicked ways, but I like to resort to clichés for advice on this matter.  Kill them with kindness.  You’ll lure a lot more bees with honey than with vinegar.  Treat others as you would like to be treated.  Don’t be Karma’s bitch.  (Oops, that’s my new philosophy.)  Just remember that managers are people, too.  What comes around goes around.

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The Attention Just Encourages Her

I had an epiphany on the way back from lunch.  I realized that every night I go to bed late, and every morning I get to work late, and every day I conveniently forget to pack lunch, or cook, or do the dishes, or do anything remotely responsible.  I’m rebelling in my own way.  I’m stuck in the confines of 8-5 monotony, and little by little I’m sticking to The Man.  This rebellion is quite silly.  It leaves me tired in the morning, stressed on the drive, hungry, broke, and disgusted.  I need to break this (utterly within the scope of normal) destructive streak!  Please send help.  I’m too neurotic and far too aware of it!

Warning!  Everything beyond this point is total tangent material!

I caught some disturbing footage of fifty-one underage, scantily clad girls driving Jeeps and playing golf.  They are apparently competing for Miss Teen USA 2006.  They all looked pretty much identical to one another—like their pastimes include hanging out at the local fake and bake, practicing their singsong intonations, and learning how to balance on four-inch espadrilles.  I know, I know, it’s a scholarship contest.  I’ve watched Miss Congeniality enough times that I can recite most of the movie by heart (which I did today with Nancy K at the office).  I just can’t believe that these girls are the best and the brightest our country has to offer.

Underneath their vapid exteriors may very well lie the souls of intelligent young women, but what I saw on that stage gave me very little hope.  I’m all about being a fully actualized woman—you know, having it all and looking cute while doing it—but I feel like the pageant is truly exploitative.  People don’t watch because these girls are smart, honor-roll students, making a difference in their communities.  They watch because they’re running around in bikinis.  Is it really any better than Baywatch or Girls Gone Wild for that matter?

I’m willing to have a discussion here, so drop me a line.

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It’s Not a Bad Thing to Get Professional

I’ve known all along that I’m in the wrong line of work, but today I saw something that perplexed me—I saw a contractor wearing Seven for All Mankind jeans. There he was, unloading lumber and other manly supplies, when I noticed the familiar squiggle on his back pockets. How much money do you think this dude is making? He’s earning at least enough money not to care that his designer jeans are in jeopardy on the job! Some great hammering calamity could occur and these jeans may be damaged permanently. I am saddened that I am more worried about his designer duds than he is!

Today was better than most, but at the same time a big headache. I went to the doctor this morning, so I got to play hooky from work until about 2 PM. I ate lunch with the BF at my favorite sushi place. I was telling Notorious M.A.G. that I want to wrestle in their house dressing—it’s that good. All good things have to come to an end, of course, so I went to work and got some stuff done. My coworker talks to me like I’m his shrink sometimes. Too bad he’s not paying me the fee!

Hot jobs to consider, ladies:

  1. Contractor
  2. Mental Health Professional
  3. Pro-Dressing Wrestler
Posted in Office Stories, Random | 2 Comments