Talking the other day

Someone, I suppose you could call them a friend?, was talking to me the other day about their job. They like their job, they go to work every day, they take pride in their work and the results and recognition they achieve and receive.

But… what they don’t like are the people they supervise. They are weird, they said. Irresponsible, they said. Frequently thoughtless, they said. Not above lying, they said. They act like children, they said. Then: I’m supervising children and it’s not rewarding. It’s (pause) depressing.

I wondered if they couldn’t talk to them, their staff, and explain the expectations in the workplace.

They gave me a funny look. Talk to them? They won’t stop listening to themselves and each other long enough to listen to someone else.

But you’re their supervisor, I didn’t say.

Instead, I wondered if there wasn’t someone they could comfortably talk with. Maybe their supervisor.

The person shook their head. I’m comfortable talking with you, they said. They feared talking to their supervisor because they feared exposing a weakness in themselves and their performance. They feared being told they can’t do the job.

Your supervisor likely knows, I didn’t say.

I wondered about weakness not necessarily meaning fault, and about not all weaknesses being bad.

They didn’t say anything.

Then they did. I’ll just keep on with what I’m doing, they said.

(Not to decide is to decide)

I thought that when it’s your responsibility to tend to the temper tantrums of adults and placate overly sensitive egos that produce inappropriate behaviors, and that task is making you uneasy and anxious and sad (and sick?) then it might be time to recognize that reality and find something else to do. Or a different way to do it.

Of course, I didn’t say that to them. Not everyone wants to hear advice even though they may think they want to hear advice.

If you’re wondering if this is true, some of it is and some of it isn’t.