I have just stabbed my insipid employer in the back and accepted another job.
Hooray! For not having to get up at half past six in the morning!
Hoorah! For not having to sit on a bus for an hour and a half everyday!
Woohoo! For earning more money and (finally) getting trained properly!
And thank God my days will now be filled with usefulness!
But my solitaire skills are going to suffer, and the giddy plans I had for this as-yet mediocre blog may come to nothing, on account of actually having to do work at work... Shit.
But I may now actually learn something useful, and have some sort of respect for my new employer. They were astounded when I told them in interview (when trying to clarify why I wanted to leave my current position), about last week when "Tiny", asked my permission to take a day off work. Let me clarify, he is my boss, not the other way round. I think he is under the unfortunate illusion that we are friends.
On my first day, he was talking to one of the other members of staff about his love life problems. I was surprised he would have such a candid discussion in front of a new employee at all, especially with the whole shy, intimidated thing he has going on. It put me in a rather uncomfortable position, I thought it was some "getting to know you" ploy, despite the fact that it all seemed rather personal. Not wanting to be rude when someone is pouring their heart out, I joined in the conversation. Before I knew it, he was no longer discussing it with the other members of staff, but talking only to me about it, all the time! I would often try and change the topic of conversation, but it always came back to his depressing stories about people he felt had done him wrong. Dreary tales of running through a wood at midnight, tripping over an abandoned bathtub, twisting his ankle and discovering his wife shagging his best friend in a car, punching the guy, causing 37 stitches, barricading himself in his house like a fugitive until a friend came to find him, threatening to kill him too, getting arrested and only being able to see his beloved children for 36 hours at a time. And he tells me he's scared of women!
He is clearly scared of himself. It was not that long ago, he tells me, that if he were left on his own in anyone's company, he'd be literally pressed up against the wall with the discomfort of having to speak to them. He'd wash incessantly for fear people might be able to smell him, and, frankly, his attempts at conversation, even now, are lame:
".......So.........Did you have a nice evening?............uhm...so.....I've got so much work to do (sigh)........Can I ask you a personal question?.......Ah....What are you having for lunch today?............."
The rest of the time it is monologues about unstressful things at work he is stressed about, or the afore mentioned love life/ past ghosts drivel.
The worst part, is my tendency to try and let people who seem to be having a hard time know that they are not the only ones. That bad shit happens to everyone. The only way I know how to do that, is to recount my own tales of insecure woes, thus revealing far more than I want to about myself, and shattering the professional balance between employer and "underling" (as I was described by Jane, the other member of staff. I'll get to her another day, she'll take some work).
I still maintain, however, that it is not necessary or appropriate, that anyone after three months in a job, should know that their boss is "not fussed about sex" and thinks it is "a lot of hassle". Except, of course, when he took Chinese medicine for back pain and ended up "feeling horny all the time. I'd have done anything I could get my hands on". Imagine that being said in a barely audible, tiny, mumbling voice, and it has the potential to actually give you nightmares.
This is a man who claims Colonel Saunders is his best friend, but refuses to eat breakfast ("because I'm being good today"). But as soon as he's hung up the phone (having had to converse with some unseen entity), he proceeds to scamper fridge-wards, where he eats up to a shocking three chocolate digestive, and then feels guilty for the rest of the day.
It is always with great trepidation that he ever asks me to help with his work load in any way. Despite my obvious card playing, and near-catatonic state, he will oh-so gently say:
" Erm.........Jennie? Erm.......I was wondering...............Are you busy?....................Would you mind............erm....... photocopying this for me?........I hope you don't mind.......It's just that......"
Of course, this kind of pussy-footing around annoys me no-end, and I have now become rather snappish with him. I think, apart from the fact I should be busy when he asks such a question, he, as office manager, should tell me to photocopy whatever it is. So now, he has become so scared of my demands for work, lack of interest and outright frustration at his pitiful tales about his "life", that he is too terrified to ask anything of me at all!
My main concern about leaving this job (I use the term loosely), is that he will undoubtedly have a nervous breakdown. His house is already certain to be re-possessed (if you belief his victimized talk), he is in a constant battle with his ex-wife for the affection of his children, and his 24 year old, on-off girlfriend (another loose description) sounds like a soul-sucking waste of time (if you believe his martyr-like tales). Who will he send text messages to on his days off ("Was everything ok today? Been really worried.....")? How will he cope having to go through interviewing strangers again (if last time was anything to go by, he'll just sit there and let Jane do all the talking, and occasionaly try to get a word in). Who will he have to watch playing solitaire all day? How will he get through the pressure of "training" again, especially with all the entering onto Sage he urgently has to do (despite it's being sat there, immobile, for the last God-knows how long)?
If , or rather, when I go, he will be left only with the fearsome Jane to listen to his angst. And she does not just listen, oh no.
But she is a topic for another day...
