I was just up for a visit in Delaware and have been back for a week and I can say it solidly feels like I am a Floridian. Hollywood, FL is home already, and I have to admit I'm pleasantly surprised.
Both my parents and I were born and raised in Delware, and I lived away from the First State only once, when I was first married. Both my sons were born in Manassas, VA. Living there NEVER felt like home, and there are probably a lot of reasons for that. I had found myself whirlwinded into marriage, motherhood, and moving to another state all within a four month period, and top that off with having just turned 20 years old. I felt nothing but 'far away' and spent three years yearning to be back where I felt comfortable.
I also lived near Rehoboth for three years in the early '90's. I look back now and see this as my first venture closer to the the sand and water, but I guess it wasn't far enough away. It was just close enough to feel the distance.
Here, I feel completely comfortable. I was driving around today on errands and realized how freely I navigate my way around. There are still a lot of places to learn, of course, but I know my little part of this world already, and it makes me feel at ease.
I wonder what it is that makes some place feel like home. When I lived near Rehoboth, for example, I knew that area from visits all my life. I knew the roads and where to get everything I needed. But something made me feel lonely, I guess. I never really made any friends in that area, and so living that life was solitary, except for the kids. My love for the atmosphere that I wanted wasn't enough to ever make me feel settled.
Here, I not only love the area but am happy with the life I'm building. I have my boyfriend, Tom, and a few others I've met and it seems like the seeds to a real life. This time, it doesn't feel like I'm looking for things to fill out and define my life, but instead feels like life has begun and I'm watching it grow.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Circles of hell
"When you're going through hell, keep going." - Winston Churchill
I read that quote today. A comical truism for sure, but hard to muster when you're actually going through it. I am right now with my job. I don't say it lightly, thrown out after a busy day of grumpy customers or tedious staff. I say it, unfortunately, with a sadness and anxiety that makes me feel lonely and adrift. Work is hell.
I actually spent almost 3 hours at the end of the day with my boss telling him this truth. We were there until 8pm. (All too regular an exit time for me.) I've raised the issue before, sharing with him the stress of the volume of work, how much change is necessary, the difficulties when information isn't shared or is sprung on me at the last minute, and the heaviest of all, how hard I am on myself. He is open and eagerly helpful in taking tasks off my plate or offering avenues of assistance, but when the Power(s) that be is the ultimate culprit I don't think there's really a lot you can do about it.
I've shared one story that sums up one exasperating aspect of the workplace. It happened a few weeks ago when I became disgusted once again with the one stapler in our department kept centrally next to the printer. It's one of those non-Swingline (obviously!) types that contorts one end of the staple into a deformed crunch of metal when you try to staple more than 3 pieces of paper. So, being the manager of the department, I ordered my own stapler on the next supply sheet.
Within hours, I had my new stapler. Impressive, I thought, until I received a call from the Executive Secretary to the owner. When I answered yes, I did get the stapler on my desk, and thanks for the quick turn around, she advised that she had taken it off an empty desk near her. "What hppened to the stapler that was on your desk?" she asked me. I didn't know, and told her there had never been one on my desk. I explained about the metal deformer next to the printer and this seemed to satisfiy her. "TheOwner will ask what happened to it and why you need another one." For a stapler. One stapler. OK, I"m all for frugality if it leads to a profitable company that can continue to provide me with a paycheck, but the owner of a 40+ employee company signs off on every stapler purchase?
I don't mean to sound excessive, and anyone reading this should know from how deep in me this comes, but I'm too dishearted to even describe any more of the defeating experiences I go through at this place. With that, it sure makes me recognize something about myself, and I'm sure others feel the same.....
I'm not a doctor or firefighter or anyone else whose daily successes are life giving and heroic. My job is customer service oriented just like many of the reatil jobs I've had. I'm not great mastermind, and others could fill my shoes. But I care deeply about doing a good job. I thrive on knowing that I've pleased a customer who will think positively about my company and what services we provide. I have a staff whose successes I highlight to those who can reward them, and I mentor and encourage them in their strengths and 'areas of improvement' so, even if they don't know where they shine, I can steer them to the place where they do. Money is not my main motivation, just simple recognition of my daily repeated commitment to these ideals, and maybe some praise and rewards of my own when I go way beyond my responsibilities, since I do on a regular basis. I have treated nearly every job as if I owned the company, and believed that any work I do is a reflection of me to an inner level. I just want to respect those I work for, believe in what we do, and feel I'm part of a team of people who help me be my best as I do them.
Is that really any different than what most people want? Is that some grand ideal that can't really be achieved? I know they call it "work" for a reason, but to feel defeated every day no matter how much effort you put in, admitting with melancholy that no matter how much you do it will never be enough, you'll never keep up with it all.... It breaks me.
Hey, I can work at a pretty damn good pace. In fact, I thrive in a firestorm. I have worked for enough small companies to know you wear whatever hat is needed at the moment, and you are often without all the resources you need. "Make due" is a daily theme. But when most of the fires are created by a person in power who just wants things their way - regardless of the customer! - well, I just can't respect that.
I knew the first six months would be hard and quite the learning curve. It is four months tomorrow, and I've found myself mute with stress, eyes brimming with tears and feeling that sanity is not only a tightrope but one that's jsut a hair's breath.
I need to feel better than this about giving this much.
I read that quote today. A comical truism for sure, but hard to muster when you're actually going through it. I am right now with my job. I don't say it lightly, thrown out after a busy day of grumpy customers or tedious staff. I say it, unfortunately, with a sadness and anxiety that makes me feel lonely and adrift. Work is hell.
I actually spent almost 3 hours at the end of the day with my boss telling him this truth. We were there until 8pm. (All too regular an exit time for me.) I've raised the issue before, sharing with him the stress of the volume of work, how much change is necessary, the difficulties when information isn't shared or is sprung on me at the last minute, and the heaviest of all, how hard I am on myself. He is open and eagerly helpful in taking tasks off my plate or offering avenues of assistance, but when the Power(s) that be is the ultimate culprit I don't think there's really a lot you can do about it.
I've shared one story that sums up one exasperating aspect of the workplace. It happened a few weeks ago when I became disgusted once again with the one stapler in our department kept centrally next to the printer. It's one of those non-Swingline (obviously!) types that contorts one end of the staple into a deformed crunch of metal when you try to staple more than 3 pieces of paper. So, being the manager of the department, I ordered my own stapler on the next supply sheet.
Within hours, I had my new stapler. Impressive, I thought, until I received a call from the Executive Secretary to the owner. When I answered yes, I did get the stapler on my desk, and thanks for the quick turn around, she advised that she had taken it off an empty desk near her. "What hppened to the stapler that was on your desk?" she asked me. I didn't know, and told her there had never been one on my desk. I explained about the metal deformer next to the printer and this seemed to satisfiy her. "TheOwner will ask what happened to it and why you need another one." For a stapler. One stapler. OK, I"m all for frugality if it leads to a profitable company that can continue to provide me with a paycheck, but the owner of a 40+ employee company signs off on every stapler purchase?
I don't mean to sound excessive, and anyone reading this should know from how deep in me this comes, but I'm too dishearted to even describe any more of the defeating experiences I go through at this place. With that, it sure makes me recognize something about myself, and I'm sure others feel the same.....
I'm not a doctor or firefighter or anyone else whose daily successes are life giving and heroic. My job is customer service oriented just like many of the reatil jobs I've had. I'm not great mastermind, and others could fill my shoes. But I care deeply about doing a good job. I thrive on knowing that I've pleased a customer who will think positively about my company and what services we provide. I have a staff whose successes I highlight to those who can reward them, and I mentor and encourage them in their strengths and 'areas of improvement' so, even if they don't know where they shine, I can steer them to the place where they do. Money is not my main motivation, just simple recognition of my daily repeated commitment to these ideals, and maybe some praise and rewards of my own when I go way beyond my responsibilities, since I do on a regular basis. I have treated nearly every job as if I owned the company, and believed that any work I do is a reflection of me to an inner level. I just want to respect those I work for, believe in what we do, and feel I'm part of a team of people who help me be my best as I do them.
Is that really any different than what most people want? Is that some grand ideal that can't really be achieved? I know they call it "work" for a reason, but to feel defeated every day no matter how much effort you put in, admitting with melancholy that no matter how much you do it will never be enough, you'll never keep up with it all.... It breaks me.
Hey, I can work at a pretty damn good pace. In fact, I thrive in a firestorm. I have worked for enough small companies to know you wear whatever hat is needed at the moment, and you are often without all the resources you need. "Make due" is a daily theme. But when most of the fires are created by a person in power who just wants things their way - regardless of the customer! - well, I just can't respect that.
I knew the first six months would be hard and quite the learning curve. It is four months tomorrow, and I've found myself mute with stress, eyes brimming with tears and feeling that sanity is not only a tightrope but one that's jsut a hair's breath.
I need to feel better than this about giving this much.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Back again
Too much work and no internet of my own kept me from my bloggish outpouring, but I'm back!
The apartment is all settled, thanks to flea markets, yard sales and few key new items, one being a Vizio 36" TV with cable and internet. I hated admitting how tied I was to TV. Just hearing another voice or at least having the opportunity after a hard day to sit mindlessly in front of flashing images and sounds to smother the stressful thoughts was more relaxing than I realized. An empty apartment with no carpet and little furniture has a sad echo. It was a bit like a cell. I thought of movie scenes where all the worldly possessions of a prisoner were few, simple and able to be contained in a small space. Sure, I have a couple of rooms to move through, but it sure seemed the same. Filling it all in, even with second (or possibly third hand) stuff was surprisingly comforting.
I'm still working wwaaaaaaayyyy too much though. 50+ hours a week for a personable enough boss but one who thinks everything - and I do mean everything on the radar - can be done, and therefore must at 100mph, all while being understaffed. (I currently have 5 technicians covering 24 X 7 SHIFTS!) But that's all for another blog....along with a few other things.
The apartment is all settled, thanks to flea markets, yard sales and few key new items, one being a Vizio 36" TV with cable and internet. I hated admitting how tied I was to TV. Just hearing another voice or at least having the opportunity after a hard day to sit mindlessly in front of flashing images and sounds to smother the stressful thoughts was more relaxing than I realized. An empty apartment with no carpet and little furniture has a sad echo. It was a bit like a cell. I thought of movie scenes where all the worldly possessions of a prisoner were few, simple and able to be contained in a small space. Sure, I have a couple of rooms to move through, but it sure seemed the same. Filling it all in, even with second (or possibly third hand) stuff was surprisingly comforting.
I'm still working wwaaaaaaayyyy too much though. 50+ hours a week for a personable enough boss but one who thinks everything - and I do mean everything on the radar - can be done, and therefore must at 100mph, all while being understaffed. (I currently have 5 technicians covering 24 X 7 SHIFTS!) But that's all for another blog....along with a few other things.
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