I seem to struggle with a strange, irrational, condition, perhaps even a phenomenon, if you will. (I always hate it when people tack the words “if you will” on to the ends of their descriptions. I had a boss who said “if you will” to punctuate nearly every one of his long-winded diatribal rantings. “Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah, if you will.” “Rant rave, yak yak yak insult rant, if you will.” I used to fantasize about stopping him forcefully and saying “No, Bart, actually, no I WON’T! You’re going to have to rephrase what you just said because I simply will not go along with your poorly thought out word choices. He would’ve probably fired me. A good 60% of the job description required good listening and nodding skills, more nodding than listening. A convincing nod went a long way with that guy.
Okay, it’s obvious that I’m going to have to save my “condition” story for another entry. This one’s going to be a parenthetic tangent about my old boss, Bart, his maniacal rantings and how glad I am that I’m no longer his personal/professional slave. Although I do have to credit him with two years’ worth of great strides in personal development. Here’s a short list of my accomplishments during that time period. 1) developed an impressive blank stare; a response I used for being praised (which never happened) and screamed at alike, 2) learned all about how to file a workplace harrassment lawsuit, 3) found that alcohol and narcotics do wonders to numb emotional pain, 4) came to identify closely with the Grinch’s pathetic slave dog, the one he dressed up as a reindeer to perfect his Santa Claus disguised ride into Whoville. 5) learned never to work for someone who, during the interview, referred to previous employees as money whoring bitches.
Yes, looking at the positives, I did grow as a person and take with me some valuable lessons in that two years of hell. Thanks, Bart. If you will. No, no I won’t, not ever again.
I’ll write about not writing, next time.