I am constantly inundated with LISTs.
I make LISTs (in my head) while driving. I make LISTs (in my head) while talking to people. I make LISTs (in my head) waiting idle. I make LISTs (in my head) while eating. I make LISTs (in my head) while in the shower …
I don’t count sheeps ever. I just make LISTs … and I wonder for hours end why I am an insomniac or where have the crickets gone!
(See, I’m intelligent, so verifies a 67 year old test called Mensa. But reality is I am really dumb, judging from the above.)
So, at this very moment … i shouldn’t be. My LIST for today includes:
- write a business plan (1/5th there, despite receiving a reminder on Thursday)
- pack my luggage (for the 5th continent I’ve traveling to this year in less than 48 hours)
- track down my National Australian Bank bank cards (or any lose cash lying around)
- bake a cake for my sister’s birthday yesterday
- fill out my time sheet (for work – bleerk)
- find my Blvgari B-zero ring (though I had conveniently convinced my sister it’s misplaced in her
- charge my camera(s); post deciding which will come along to the continent
- google what the heck to do in that boom-ed mining town besides hanging out in Subi!
but I MUST
I get all wired up when someone writes me less than elegant emails. You know’ those emo type, that is accusatory. Those that are patronizing and con·de·scend·ing!
I really don’t care who you are. Whether you are in a chair of supreme authority. or whether you are paying my bills. And I seriously mean this. I am not on some shite ego talk. This is part of my ‘growing up’ process:
I used to hit the “send” button, take a deep breath and count 40 seconds before I receive an email reply for a top management member of one of my previous organization. She, without fail will have something caustic to say. She’s plain mean and nasty in an abrasive, cutting, scornful manner.
I used to be close to tears at the sight of the unread mail in my “Inbox”, fearing – literally shaking and palpitating – to click on the “mouse” to open the email. And if I were to ignore it, the repercussion was worse; simply cause I don’t do phones. My tongue can be unreliable in those situation where it goes numb and at worst I don’t even know if it’s still attached to my anatomy. And I can’t process or neutralize an angry or screaming voice.
And for hours thereafter, some times days, I would be going through the details in my mind over and over again like a torment and feel unworthy and embarrassed to even leave my desk to take a leek for the fear of bumping into her en route. But as life has it, I need to dispose bio-organic matter, and as the universe dictates, she was there – right smack in the middle of the corridor leading to the rest rooms looking at me as if I was no larger, if not “smaller” than a microbe amongst the waste. I decided to stare her in the eye, top management or not, and imagine Bill Bryson was right there beside me with his vaporizer gun – POOF!
She of course did not vaporizer. Bill wasn’t by my side physically, but in my head … and that I suppose doesn’t really work, with or without the existence of an actual vaporizer gun in the market.
But, my fear vaporized.
“enough is enough”. the bullying must stop! It doesn’t matter that this woman has a say in the calibration process of my performance, my future in the organization and my rewards.
As prediction goes with those that are born in the outer rings of the fire of hell, she couldn’t resist writing me an email post the eyeballs locking session, including in her usual fashion every single EXCO member in the list. I read. Gave a faint smile of satisfaction knowing that this time around she had foolishly walked straight into an open lion’s den, cracked my knuckles (unsuccessfully – how do people do this? and more impressively the neck twist?), and typed away…
Thanks to her, I have refined the art of acerbic witty prose with mordacious read between the lines!
And since a client today had gone really too far, pushing me to the edge, I had to put my skills to test (once again). This brought back memories of how this started for me personally in my corporate live and how often very, very close colleagues and I have quibbled via this means, losing sight of the objective by email number 5, in the quest of crowning the “winner” not by content and logic, but by prose!
Oh how I miss all of you insane folks that kept me on my toes and entertained.
As for she? Well, we’ve both moved on physically and with age. After two close misses of having to have her as a client, our paths finally crossed at the ‘blue box’. This time around, I flashed her a smile and enthusiastically greeted her, stopping short at embracing her. I’ve grown. I’ve ‘man-up’ so to speak.
But still, the last gesture I’ve kept it for another top management at the same ‘blue box’ whom I had met earlier in a Board meeting setting. Now, I was genuinely enthusiastic. Now, the world is really small.