Work sitch: Our programmer needs the scanner's owner manual its scanning software discs. Can't find them in my boss's old office, so we look in Camilla's office. That was the last place I saw the gear after our tech installed everything, so it made sense to look there. No luck.
We go upstairs to ask Camilla if she knows where the manuals and discs are. She has not a clue. We troop downstairs to look again--though C doesn't look in her office. She looks in my old office, even though the new equipment never lived there. Again, I'm just looking where I last remember seeing the stuff. I have no idea what happened to it after she took over scanner duty.
My first assumption (based on my observation of C's work habits and attitude) is that she got rid of the manuals and software boxes not knowing what they were. She's not the type to ask questions before taking headstrong and uninformed action.
Later, when I grabbed the dictionary to look up the word "fey," I saw some discs and a box of scanning software in my cabinet. It might be what the programmer is looking for, but I'm not sure. Now I'm feeling sheepish and contrite about pinning the missing goods on Camilla--even though carelessness and sloth are accurate descriptors of her M.O.
Volunteer sitch: An organization I volunteer with has committed to a fundraising effort I would call dubious. It was undertaken without informing the board of directors and it's iffy whether the project will generate any revenue. This got me hopping mad. We need to fundraise for our own needs, not pass the hat on behalf of someone else's project, regardless of its merits.
Also frustrating: the organization fails to implement process improvements that would better utilize our limited/existing resources and improve attendance at events (which would increase revenue). Yet we're involved in a fundraising venture that leaves us hoping for a slice of a pie that's not even baked yet. This makes no sense to me.
When I bitched about this--at length--last night to Mike, he asked whether my fiery approach was likely to result in a constructive dialogue. I had to admit that asking "Are you sure there weren't any hallucinogens involved?" would likely make the other parties defensive and preclude discussion.
But that doesn't stop me from being mad or wanting to grab someone by the lapels and holler "What made you think this was a good idea?" I DO get all impassioned with the things I care about.
But here's the part that got me thinking about me: How lickety-split fast do I attribute malice, ignorance, sloth and/or stupidity to the other party? Is this a good idea?
Am I so quick to judgment that I miss the software box in my own cupboard? Or miss the idea that people trying to raise funds (even with dubious methods) weren't also trying a creative way to promote the fiscal health of the organization?
I asked Mike whether my delivery always sucks, or if my counterproductive means of expression is specific to just this volunteer gig. He said, no, he doesn't think my delivery always sucks. I believe him, but I'm still wondering whether my delivery/approach is more of a problem than I want to admit.
4 comments:
Hah! He speaks! I love it. :-) And I'm so laughing. At the entire thing. "Does my delivery make me look fat?" Heh heh...
We used to talk about delivery problems a lot at my old job (at my current job, you don't 'talk' about things...and if you have a delivery problem, you'll be sleeping with the career fishes sharpish...unless you're the boss-MAN), and it was amazing to us just how many people really did have very sucky delivery. I include myself in this (again, in the past for the most part, as now I smile a lot and keep my mouth shut), but mostly I'm thinking of my boss and one of my peers. It was just one of those situations that makes you realize truly how much productivity at work goes down the crapper due to bad interpersonal interactions, politics, passive aggression, active aggression, etc. I'm sure the corporate world would love nothing more than to do away with the (at least for now) necessary evil of being run by humans.
ME - We all have delivery problems, so don't stress on it too much. I think if you're in a situation where you can learn that gently and downscale over time, rather than, um, learning it the hard way, then consider yourself lucky. And for what it's worth (ie, from one with delivery problems herself), you are not in the 'delivery problems' big leagues by any stretch.
LMAO. Mary Ellen--you've snagged a winner. Wish we all had a Mike in our corner--especially when dealing with the boss person.
I second what Diana says. I think the biggest problem in human interactions is, most of us don't start out intending to be the bull in the china cabinet or offending others or being sucky at delivery. It comes across that way for a variety of reasons--often our own, but equally often because there's a receiving end--and you can never predict how that receiving end is going to react. This is why I keep saying a life as a hermit sometimes looks really, really appealing at times. (And it especially looks appealing today as I have my one-on-one with the boss woman that I'm DREADING.)
Having said all that--the dress you're wearing doesn't make you look fat, i.e. I think you're one of the most conscientious people I know. You know who you can vent to and when you do, it's very passionate. More importantly, though, you're very careful about how you approach others and say things so as to minimize any potential negative fall out. Your thoughtfulness alone makes your efforts at effective delivery less sucky or not sucky at all, if that makes sense. (And now I think my delivery just sucked...)
You're fine, ME. And you should be ticked at the fundraiser for the film thing. That's just a stupid use of the board's time. But no one asked me...
P.S. I deleted my earlier comment because I forgot to proofread it and used 'are' when I meant 'our.' Gag.
Y'all crack me up. It's better to be laughing than stressing, that's for sure. :)
I'll keep venting to the "safe" people (who may want to put on flame-retardant jammies during) and crafting a more measured public response. I might still worry about whether my words look bloated...
Besos a mi amor for posting his first comment!
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