I don’t really dislike my manager. Its just that I have a certain way of communicating with people that has been labeled as “wordy” or “time-consuming”. Which is why I am a writer and why I have so many blogs. I am an artist and a thinker. I don’t think I’d be me if I communicated differently.
The only thing the guy managing my unit at work seems to understand is yes, no, I understand, and I have a question. He’s always speeding around here and there and seems confused when I use too many words. I keep reminding myself that what I’m saying makes sense and its not my fault that he doesn’t understand immediately. Why should I stop being myself to make someone else more comfortable?
I think he’s trying. He’ll make the occasional witty comment to let me know he’s not a complete zombie. He also admired my little crochet desk decorations and commented that his friend owned a company for crochet orders.
I kind of feel bad for him while respecting his diligence and work ethic at the same time. Probable because I imagine that his job and responsibilities have made him into a manager machine.
I get pissed and freak out a little inside when I have to live the “cliff notes version” of life to be around other people.
Note: I gave him what he called “a speech” on our last day this week when he came around after our meeting asking if anyone had anything they wanted to say that they didn’t want to say in front of everyone else.
I told him a somewhat more detailed version of what I’d said at the meeting. Voicing my insecurity that he probably thought I was an idiot by now, I explained that I had a different way of communicating and the job I had didn’t quite match it, as it operated in a quick-paced, competitive environment
My manager responded by explaining that the way he is at work is not the way he is when he isn’t at work. He’s been managing a long time, he said, so his mind is very trained. So every time I said something, he was looking for the point in it. I was a little embarrassed that he had to search for the point, as if I was being obtuse, and I told him that there was a point in everything I say, you just have to actually be listening.
He went on to say that I reminded him of his friends and he was wondering why he hadn’t met me yet in the whole wide word of Fresno. He asked how old I was and where I was from. I explained that I’d just recently moved to Fresno last late summer from Atlanta and that I was 23. He also mentioned that he had a friend, strangely enough who had recently moved to Atlanta and thought it was just as strange as I though Fresno was. Maybe I shouldn’t have been, but I was a little flattered that I reminded him of people he might care about and be fond of. It made me feel less stupid for just being myself all over the place in a workplace environment while everyone else put on an act or fractioned themselves for the worst.
Note on what I said to my manager being labeled as “a speech”: I don’t think what I said took all that long to say at all. If he really wanted to hear a speech, I could have really given him one. I and my style of communicating are causalities of an age of convenience and the death of the art of conversation. Nobody understands a fucking complete sentence anymore. They want shorthand for everything.
“Filed under #343 errors”