Welcome to my world!

My life's been crazy since my Daddy moved in with me immediately after my mother's death in October 2010. My one and only kiddo headed to college at Carolina at the end of August. So...I lived on my own, for the first time in my life, for a total of a blissful six weeks. Then, I started the parenting gig with my dad. He's a combination of a grouchy old man, a surly teenager and a temperamental toddler. Needless to say, I get very close to the brink of insanity sometimes. I get through life by finding the humor in difficult circumstances. And for some reason, I wind up in the weirdest situations. I couldn't make this stuff up. So I wind up having lots and lots crazy adventures which make great stories to share with my friends. Writing about my life is so therapeutic. My ramblings range from funny to sad to angry (full of cuss words) to sweet. While my focus is dealing with the trials and tribulations of being a parent to my Daddy, I have lots of random, totally unrelated posts. Whatever's on my mind. I love to make people laugh, and I'm happy to think my readers will get my strange sense of humor. And maybe, people who are in my situation will be encouraged. That's all I can hope for...

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Mufasa Henry

I called Deb this morning to see if she was coming over to take Daddy to lunch - her usual Saturday thing.  When she answered, she was crying hysterically.  I couldn't understand what she was saying.  I made out something about someone being hit by a car.  When I realized it was her cat and not one of her kids, I was relieved, but I know how much she loves animals.  I was with her when she got the news that her blind cat, Wilson, had gotten run over.  I can still remember how broken-hearted she was.

I went into the living room to tell The Daddler that Deb wouldn't be over in time for lunch because Mufasa had died.  I told him she was really upset.  He said, "She's got four more."  Very matter-of-factly.  When she came over later in the afternoon, he told her she could have Mia Hamm (a/k/a Bulimic Cat).  That is such a man-thing.  They just want to fix things.  But he loves that cat.  Just doesn't show it.  Another man-thing.

Speaking of trauma, I had the week from hell.  I wound up getting caught in a nasty web of organizational politics at one of my clients.  Let's just say that someone there doesn't like me (I know - that's hard to believe), and she is a master of passive-aggressive power plays.  I'm a pretty direct person.  If something is bothering me, I usually just say it.  Generally, in a calm, rational manner.  So I have very little tolerance for passive-aggressive crap.  I try to ignore it, because there's really no good way to deal with it.  A wise friend once told me never to play games with a game-player, because you'll always lose.  So true.

I don't want to relive the whole thing, but lets just say that this, um, person, launched a full-blown smear campaign against me.  I woke up one morning to a lovely email from a member of a committee I deal with at this client.  The message referred to repeated "incidents" (huh?) in which I had "dealt inappropriately" with a staff member.  No specifics were mentioned, but I'm guessing the staff member involved was Passive Aggressive Woman.  Of course, it could've been anyone, because it seems I am unable to speak in a professional manner and have difficulty dealing with people.  According to the email, anyway.  So I can only guess that PAW got mad when I asked her to send a report up to my office for the auditor, and when she said she couldn't do that until two hours later, I stopped what I was doing and walked down to her office.  When I got there and saw three of her staff members sitting at their desks and pasting clip-art or performing some other critical, time sensitive task, I was a little miffed.  I simply said, "You mean you couldn't have spared one of these people for two minutes to run this report up to me?"  That's it.  That's the "incident."  I suppose.

I should probably admit that there was steam coming out of my ears and I waved my finger in a circle to indicate her sizeable staff (I have no one to help me), and I'm thinking I had a little chicken head bobbing action going on, too.  But I did not raise my voice.  I would say that I snapped at her.  So sue me.  Sometimes people snap a little at their co-workers.  And if it bothers them, they act like adults and handle it directly.  But this person decided to tattle on me to her friend, the committee member, who, by the way, is not the boss of me.  But she thinks she is.  Because the email concluded by saying that if "such an event happens again, our relationship will be terminated."  Whoa.  Oh, get this.  She copied two other members of the committee on the email.

So, I did the professional thing, and refrained from shooting back a reply like this:  "You can't fire me, because I quit."  or "Take this job and shove it."  Actually, I thought of lots worse things to say, but I've been trying to clean up my language lately, so I won't go there, but if you've read much of this blog, you probably have a pretty good idea.  And believe me, it would have been less than professional, to put it mildly.

Let's talk about professionalism, though.  How professional is it to send someone a scathing email threatening to fire them and then copying two other muckety-mucks on it without discussing it first, and not giving any specifics?  And wouldn't it be fair to ask me my side of it?  And how about recusing yourself since you're such good buddies with PAW?

Wow, it's just so unbelievable.  And I said I wasn't going to relive this.  The bottom line is this.  No amount of money is worth feeling the way this whole thing has made me feel.  I talked to the one person I consider my boss (he was copied on the email, but didn't know anything about it before I called him about it).  He knows what I do.  He reviews my work, answers my questions, and takes care of dealing with all the political/committee crap.  So we sat down Thursday and I told him exactly what happened.  He told me that I couldn't go around exploding at people.  I told him I "snapped", not "exploded."  Ironically, I came close to exploding at him - I had to catch myself.  I also told him that he was the only one I was responsible to, and he said I had to answer to every one on the committee.  So I told him that I couldn't and wouldn't do that, so I needed to leave.  That I'd stay for two weeks and if they needed me after that to help with the transition, they could pay me on a consulting basis at a higher rate.  Keep in mind that during most of this convo, I was crying pretty hard.  Dontcha know he loved that?  Actually, he's seen me cry more than once before.  The thing is, when I get really angry, I cry.  I hate that.  But can't help it.  It's just me.

Now, in case you're wondering, even though I resigned, he ignored it.  He finished up by saying that he would talk to PAW's buddy at the next committee meeting.  I told him he needed to include the other committee member who got copied on the email.  I told him that my good name is more important than any job and that he can tell them if they have a problem with me, they can handle it with him from now on.  That I refuse to deal with political crap.  I have a feeling he'll do it.  He really does appreciate what I do.  He tells me when there's something he doesn't like (i.e. when I'm six months behind on filing paid bills), and it doesn't bother me at all because he says it in the right spirit.  He doesn't go around gushing about how great I am, but with him, a little goes a long way.  Sometimes, I even make him laugh - no small feat.

The pow-wow is Monday night, so I suppose I'll hear about it Tuesday.  I really don't have a dog in this fight.  Which is to say I don't care if I stay.  All I know is that I don't want to shed any more tears over this tempest in a teapot.

Speaking of tears, I've shed quite a few over some other things this past week.  In fact, I feel like a good cry right now.  I always feel better after.  I hope Deb's feeling better.  Oh, about the painting.  I told Deb to email a picture of Mufasa.  While she took The D to get a haircut and to Sam's, I did this painting for her.  She loved it.  I'm kinda proud of it, too.

Wow, I just realized how late it is.  I fell asleep on the sofa watching the LSU-Alabama game with Daddy tonight, so my sleep schedule is outta whack.  On that note, I'll close.  Over and out...


  1. Wow--you are so talented. I think you are doing amazing with your watercolors. Who knew !!!
    Sorry for your bad week and
    So sorry for Deb's bad week too.
    I need to get her address from you so I can send her a note. I can send you one too but we email, so in a way you get short-changed ! But not this time, I'll send you one too. Not sure I have the address of the Good House. Will have to look.
    Hugs from the coast <3, L

  2. Hey, L!

    Thanks for the kind words. It feels good to be painting again - it's been a long, long time. I'll have to do one for you. Maybe of Villa Lagoon?

    Love ya,