Monday, December 20, 2010

It's not me. I'm not the crazy one.

I went to the company holiday party for one of the companies that I work for last night. I have told The Man about the stressful working conditions there with some sense that maybe he thinks I am exaggerating.

I have had a long streak of bad luck when it comes to jobs. I'm sure that The Man has started to believe that I am the problem since almost everywhere I go there's someone that makes me miserable. I have wondered the same, too, at times. But I know that my current situation is not normal.

I sat at the long dinner table with the people who sit near me at the company. The first thing one of them said was, "I'm here so that I won't be a target Monday morning. I don't want to get yelled at." The guy sitting next to him said, "Yeah, me too." I couldn't believe they not only felt the same as me but they said so out loud without prompting from me. I poked The Man and said, "See, it's not me. Everyone feels this way."

Everyone does. The boss is a tyrant. It's very stressful. We cannot talk to each other even if we are ordered to do projects for one another. Any time any of us tries to talk to each other, the boss walks over, butts in to the conversation and changes the subject. I learned at the dinner that everyone there has a chat account somewhere and they IM each other in order to talk. I don't know why they never told me, but in as dire a situation as ours, it doesn't help to get paranoid.

Whenever the boss leaves the office to go to the post office, the office bursts into conversation. Not idle chit-chat, we actually have a chance to talk to each other and coordinate our efforts. When the boss takes a vacation the office becomes a happy place. People smile and enjoy themselves. I can't help but wonder what people don't do because of the boss' behavior. I know that I have to resist the urge to not try my best. It's tempting to do poor work, but that wouldn't benefit me in the long run.

This morning I walked in and felt tension in the air immediately. Instead of saying hello, the others already there whispered or mimed hello. Seemed that anyone who hadn't gone to the party last night was now a target. There was much yelling, but none directed to those of use who went to the party. I think I earned bonus points for drinking the groppo.

It's a horrible way to work. I am so sick of bad jobs I have very little desire to look for yet another one. The devil you know, thing. Or maybe it's Stockholm Syndrome. The good thing is I get to do interesting work in between being yelled at. It's the only thing keeping me coming back. But I really do need to leave for my sanity. It is bringing me down. I feel worse and worse every day. Nobody should have to live under such stress.

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