I drafted a post entitled "No Change" on Monday. It is now Wednesday and my situation remains fairly constant. I work about 14 hours each day. I eat while reading email. I dream of arguments and tasks and meetings while curled comfortably in bed.
I have, however, adjusted in the remarkable way that people do. I have to do a tedious task? I'll complain but I will finish first and do it well. I have to organize an important meeting? I will draft documents and presentations, make phone calls and double-check arrangements. I made less money and get less credit than my colleagues? I continue to take shots at Adam and feel fragile and wounded, but I've continued to show up early each morning and stay late every evening.
"I may have to leave," I typed to Adam as we chatted today. He's out of the office and I'm a good chat buddy since I type so fast. "I don't see any other way to reset the baseline and I'll always feel like I'm being promoted into a job title and salary I deserved long before."
I rolled my eyes and responded with a sarcastic "sure" when he did the whole 'I hear and accept and empathize with you' routine.
"I worry about you personally," he typed and I nodded before replying "Most people do." I live to work. I take this really, really personally. I'm not in love and that's unlikely to change. I don't take care of myself and may have a nervous breakdown when my dog dies (Please, God, not for a long time.)
"How about you fix me professionally," I decided, tapping out the words, "and I'll go from there?"
But, like so many things, change is slow to come.
I have, however, adjusted in the remarkable way that people do. I have to do a tedious task? I'll complain but I will finish first and do it well. I have to organize an important meeting? I will draft documents and presentations, make phone calls and double-check arrangements. I made less money and get less credit than my colleagues? I continue to take shots at Adam and feel fragile and wounded, but I've continued to show up early each morning and stay late every evening.
"I may have to leave," I typed to Adam as we chatted today. He's out of the office and I'm a good chat buddy since I type so fast. "I don't see any other way to reset the baseline and I'll always feel like I'm being promoted into a job title and salary I deserved long before."
I rolled my eyes and responded with a sarcastic "sure" when he did the whole 'I hear and accept and empathize with you' routine.
"I worry about you personally," he typed and I nodded before replying "Most people do." I live to work. I take this really, really personally. I'm not in love and that's unlikely to change. I don't take care of myself and may have a nervous breakdown when my dog dies (Please, God, not for a long time.)
"How about you fix me professionally," I decided, tapping out the words, "and I'll go from there?"
But, like so many things, change is slow to come.
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