It’s on. Any lingering affection I had for my job has vanished. I’m ready to go now.
I thought that my last week would be quiet and noneventful. But she seems determined to press my buttons. Like she’s thirsty for a fight. She’s convinced that I’m a deadbeat; I’m convinced that she’s the devil’s offspring. But she won’t get the pleasure of ruining my final week.
I hope I never become a manager without first being a leader among my peers. Artificial managers tend to let their new “authority” go to their head. They’re arbitrary leaders—no more inspiring or respectable than an absentee father. Their sense of leadership is entirely imagined—based on corporate hierarchies and an obligation to enforce “the policies” handed down to them from their own managers.
On one hand, I feel sorry for the corporate-types who become worthless managers. Their sole duties are to create and enforce rules for the people doing the actual work, keep precise records of sick days, make sure everyone shows up on time, and dream of ways to make their staff behave in a way that satisfies their personal sense of order. What a worthless career path.
But even worse are all of us who enable our lives to be governed by the stupidity of corporate life. If we all performed our jobs reponsibly in the first place, we wouldn’t need other people to lord over us. Our employers would trust us, instead of assuming the worst. There wouldn’t be this culture of mistrust and disrespect between fellow workers.
She may think she’s better than me, but she doesn’t realize that we’re both whores of the company. We’re both helping to make someone else rich.