When I sat down with my boss a few months ago and talked about how I was doing at my job, he said to me, "If you keep doing what you're doing you'll be fine and you'll have a place here for a long time. But you won't grow and I'd like to see you grow. That's why I'm going to put you in a position that's going to make you uncomfortable." He was talking about the art director position I recently moved into.
I've been thinking about that conversation because I think I'm starting to understand what he meant about being uncomfortable.
For the most part, the transition into the new position has been pretty easy so far. As far as the technical side and day to day duties of the job go, it has been very easy. I work with a small team of artists who know how to do their jobs and who understand the expectations so I don't have to do any training (which I think is one of my weaknesses) or hand-holding. It's the personal side and working so closely with different types of personalities and work ethic that I'm having to adjust to.
It seems like almost immediately after I accepted the responsibility of being accountable for the art department, my perspective completely changed. For example, in the past whenever an email or memo would circulate reminding us to be productive or something like that, I wouldn't think twice about it because I knew I was getting my work done and meeting deadlines. Now that I'm accountable for someone other than just myself, I see things a lot differently and it's not always easy. It is, in a word, uncomfortable.
Uncomfortable because I can already tell I'm going to have to grow a thicker skin and fight the demons that work against my self-confidence. Sometimes I'm going to have to be someone's boss instead of their friend. I can't explain it, and I don't know if someone could teach you how to separate business and friendship, but that's what I'm talking about in terms of a change in perspective. It's not so much about friendship anymore than it is about understanding the goals and objectives of the company (specifically my department), and doing what I need to do in order to get there. This is particularly mind blowing to me because, like, hello? When did I wake up and suddenly care so much about helping the company succeed as opposed to having the I just work here mindset?
I think of all the bosses I loved working for in the past and I ask myself why I went the extra mile for them. It's because they inspired me. They motivated me. They went to bat for me when I needed them to. They were positive people. They listened. They did not poison me with gossip and drama. They loved what they did and were enthusiastic about it. They were hard when they needed to be. They encouraged me. I learned from them.
I think if I remind myself of the reasons why I loved working for a great boss and aspire to develop those traits, it will help me to find a place among them.
Of course I'm sure it couldn't hurt to put this on my wishlist:
I heard Alanis' cover of My Humps for the first time yesterday and I loved it! Then I found out this morning there's a video! (I actually prefer to just listen to the song.)
Sometime after announcing The Separation Heard 'Round the Island and learning that certain persons read this website, I lost my willingness to write about anything that meant anything around here. It would certainly not be the first time I'd ever seriously considered closing shop and reopening under a pseudonym buried deep beneath a million anonymous domains. The only reason I can think of why I haven't done that is that I don't like the idea of giving anyone the power to make me run away and hide.
I just have to accept that if I am going to open up and be honest here, there is a chance that people are going to take that as their invitation to tell me what they think I'm doing wrong in my life and what, in their opinions, I need to do to improve myself daily and get back on track. Nevertheless, I am going to grit my teeth and bear it, even when those opinions come to me in the form of a five page written letter that says things like, "You are in a crisis," "Don't lie to yourself by saying you aren't lonely," and "Stop trying to control your husband."
And while those love letters hurt, sadden and anger me because those individuals know very little of what is going on and form opinions based on a few paragraphs and photos I've posted online and perhaps even a little bit of gossip they might be privy to, I am not going to fire back a list of reasons why I think they should be less critical and be more supportive and understanding, even if they really do think I'm in a crisis. It just amazes me that someone would think it was totally okay to write to me about such things when they've never written to me before to say hello and see how I'm doing when they didn't think I was in a crisis. I, for one, would feel totally uncomfortable scrawling a five page opinion on matters of the heart to someone I only saw in passing every now and then. And even if I felt I just HAD to get a few things off my chest, I might go with a more subtle and caring approach and say something like, "Hey, I know we've never really talked before, but I just have to say I'm thinking about you and if you want to talk, I'm here." You know, the way a real friend might.
That is, unless you are my therapist. Because, as my therapist, I'm paying you to tell me what you think I need to do to improve myself daily. But I would hope that a five page letter in the mail is not on billable time.
I've been considering getting something pierced for weeks now, and I'm curious to know about what you have (or had) pierced and what the experience was like. Do tell.
I figure if I get tired of it, I can just take it out...unlike a tattoo. I will probably never get a tattoo because I can't think of anything I can be absolutely certain I'll want on my body twenty years from now.
Oh and I'm not going to say what I'm having pierced until I get it done...the plan is this Saturday. Unless I change my mind, of course.
