Me & My Bad Attitude

I am a terrible, awful, horrible, despicable human being. Possibly, not even human. My supervisor would tell you that's not what she meant. HR would tell you that's not what was meant. But, when you get called into a closed-door meeting and informed that your complaining, negative attitude and derogatory comments are inconsistent with "corporate values" and must change or disciplinary action will be taken which can include termination, you gotta figure you're Hitler-esque.

I've tried to wear my heart on my sleeve but it's too protected there ~ instead I hold it out in front for everyone to see and spit on. I know I complain a lot. I thought that I mixed niceties in with the complaints, but there was no mention of that. I regularly make people laugh, but that doesn't count. I praise my coworkers frequently, apparently not to the right people. I thought actions spoke louder than words, but they whisper. 

So what was the incident that got me in trouble? A coworker was on vacation and I complained that it's hard when she's gone. She works twice as fast as anyone I've ever seen in the job (and I've seen dozens). It's not that other people aren't good enough, it's that you notice when Michael Jordan doesn't play. She is on a completely different level. In my twisted world view, I expressed praise for her, and no, I have no idea what my actual words were, but obviously they were bad. Apparently, the actual words were along the lines of "No one else is any good."Others (yes, plural) complained to my boss that I trashed them and made them feel bad. 

Really? You can file a complaint when a co-worker hurts your feelings? This meeting hurt my feelings.

Also, I gossip too much. Ummm . . . kay. . . half the time I talk about others, someone else started the conversation (also, someone else is always in the conversation). And we're expressing opinions, not making accusations. Are they being written up too? Is no one ever allowed to say anything about or to a coworker other than "Great job, team! I suck but you're wonderful!!"

If I have anything bad to say, I have to say it to someone who the power to fix it, usually, that would be my supervisor. Uh. . . my supervisor has a blank look or a glib answer for everything (seriously, only extremes). My manager can't make a decision to save her life (if you don't like the idea just say "no"). My director believes in "change for change's sake" and absolutely will not listen to any opinions or ideas that do not agree with his opinions and completely support his changes. 

She did say if I want to talk about people behind their backs I should do it outside of work. Going to a bar after work is a good way to handle it. Well, my alcohol consumption has quadrupled in the last four months, I guess I still need to drink more. Will I get in trouble if everyone but one person is invited to the bar? 

Are all companies like this now? Does everyone get a participation ribbon? Time to go pound my head into the wall.

My son's in an ambulance again. . .

My first-born is studying to be an EMT. This is a good career choice for him, since, like his mother, he has the attention span of a gnat. He is most interested in ambulance crewing (is that the right term?) and that has to be a job free of monotony. Joe has been in ambulances before he started EMT school ~ not as a ride-along to shadow an Emergency Medical Technician, he just had a knack for near-death experiences. Yep, I'm that glib about it, mostly 'cause that keeps me from hyper-ventilating. I am prematurely grey due to a concerted effort by my children. Seriously. I've performed CPR & the Heimlich, pulled a glassy-eyed semi-conscious child from a pool, lost a six-year-old at the Minnesota State Fair (near the Grandstand, no less) and a ten-year-old at a bog. My boys are so good at dramatic injuries, illnesses and disappearances that my reaction to something as mundane as a broken bone is like, "We should probably get that set." I do still wig out at assaults, they may say they're fine. but. . .  (note: we don't live in a good neighborhood, they actually have been assaulted). But, otherwise, it's got to be big to get a reaction.

So, back to school, Joe has been in ambulances, urgent cares & emergency rooms in multiple states. Some people check out the museums, he checks out emergency care (which actually runs in the family, we had one trip with such bad food poisoning that my brother & I both hit two ERs). He had an idea what he'd be getting into, or more so than most, anyway.

He wasn't worried about blood & gore. He knew he could handle the curriculum. He survived me, so he knew he could handle panicky next-of-kin. What he was really worried about was babies. You see, he has not held a baby since he was four and his brother came along, and he doesn't remember that. He was scared that his first memory of holding a baby would be while it was dying. That's a reasonable fear, it could happen and what a horribly sad first-baby-moment.

He's done his first shift in an ambulance. He ended up holding a baby ~ but, not the way he feared. He helped deliver it. I think he's gonna like this EMT gig.