in my blogging, dear reader, it is because I am assiduously avoiding getting myself in trouble for what I perceive as my Czarina self-dedicated high jinks. Oh, yes, when I see a problem I go straight for the jugular, which is not always the most prudent option. Sometimes it is best to wait things out. But as I have absolutely no patience I tend to be like a bull in a china shop who is trying to right some cosmic wrong. Where I perceive something that is wrong in my work I try to get the problem resolved through channels (initially anyway...) and failing that the bull takes over and soon I an "bullying" someone who apparently has no concept of the actual meaning of the term bully. And the incident with the cousin and his ergonomic device turned into a total cluster fux, which Aunt Marilyn advised me to seek the ear of the PTB and lay out the exactly what had transpired. Only once I did that he assumed I was there to seek reasonable accommodations for being bipolar under the Americans With Disabilities Act (ADA). Nothing could have been farther from my mind, such as it is. I was seeking understanding for what it is like to be bipolar yes, but not reasonable accommodations. Understanding, yes, for all the static in my brain that sometimes dictates my behavior and not always in my best interests. Understanding for what is a quick temper (but at least I no longer punch out walls, a practice that ultimately resulted in a broken hand). Maybe this temper is what others see as my bullying or trying "to get my way", but that is not my intent. And if you are that weak of spirit and intent maybe you should be seeking real help, not me. Oh, oh, there I go again, speaking my mind not in my best interests. I am not bullying anyone. In one instance I was endeavoring to get someone to modify their behavior regards the wearing of cologne. It should have never come to the point that it did. The library currently has no policy on colognes in the workplace only food smells and this was the travesty I was trying to address. I don't' know whether that person was being stupid, inconsiderate or stubborn but after a supervisor asked her three times not to wear cologne, once in the most ingenious of ways, this person persisted, prompting a move which lead to yet another person taking direct action regards the Queen of Avon's cologne fixation. So now the PTB are going to institute a cologne policy. Granted I was over the top in my language regards this person's cologne usage, but this was a situation management clearly tried to address but needed to be more forceful and direct. Much like the bully, eh?
The ergonomic fubar was my fault, I guess for not being "bully" enough to tell my cousin "NO!!! Please don't drive from Chicago to Lansing to drop off a prototype. I have no power here". But time and again, in spite of me telling each person in the ergonomic chain of command what was transpiring, my wheels had somehow come off and he showed up with three prototypes and his partner. I like the concept of his product but wish there were someway to quantify its effectiveness. Which is what my mandated one page report to the ergonomics committee will say. And tomorrow my mandated two week trial will be over with the equipment, which I rather like and may purchase for myself as I am a powerhouse when it comes to me fidgeting. If I were just a hamster on a wheel I could generate enough power to light the library. As it is I have no power, just the fidgets and a constant sense of injustice played upon me for my lack of an appropriate degree which somehow minimizes my intellect. My mighty intellect. My Mensa level IQ (Yes, I am one of those people...as one might imagine Shelley saying "I am the Authority Czarina...look upon my works ye mighty and despair" and yet there would be nothing there to be despaired of).
So all of this activity regards my character and work leaves me to despair. I am now at a place in time where retirement seems like a good option. The issue would be do I have sufficient funds to carry me into old age or even next week. But mentally I am getting prepared for the next stage in my life. And thus I once again leave you with Macbeth (Act V, Scene 5)
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
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