I had a really nice surprise today at work. My supervisor apologized to me. It's not something I'm used to, so the occasion really stood out.
Here's the scenario: we had to reorder some record boxes from storage. My job was to search for the box numbers in our database, E-mail them to my supervisor, and she would take it from there. So I did, and I checked it twice, sort of like Santa, but not.
Today, I was informed that I'd ordered the wrong boxes, a big faux pas, because to reorder boxes costs about $50 per box. Though confused, I was sure I had made the mistake out of sheer laziness and prepared to enter the classic area of self-punishment. Still, my supervisor wanted me to re-verify in the database, which I did. Much to our mutual surprise, the numbers were wrong in the database, hence the apology. Much to my greater surprise, the error was not my own.
Over the years, I've grown accustomed to accepting blame for a lot of things, whether or not I'm actually responsible for them. Since my memory of each step of a monotonous process isn't fantastic, I err on the side of criticism because I simply do not have the instant recollection to say with 100% conviction that the error was not my own. At that point, I jump on the criticism bandwagon and start berating my work, my work ethic, my memory, how I'll never really be a good employee, etc. It's basically a frenzy to assure myself that I'm not stupid, just lazy, but not lazy, just tired, but not tired, too stressed, which leads to a whole new surge of criticism and compounds the latter problem.
In the past year, these trains of thought have begun occurring less frequently, but when I do jump on one of them, it does start down a lot of the same tracks. I'm obsessed with assuring people that I'm not stupid, that I'm not lazy, that I'm not mean, that I'm not emotionally invested, that I'm not a writer, that I don't take part in the USC-UCLA rivalry, that I'm not attracted to anyone, that I'm not religious, that I'm not an atheist, that I'm not like a Californian, that I'm not like a Utahn, that I'm not like an American, that I'm not like an Earthling... Toot toot!
And so today, this simple sentence, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blame you," knocked me right off the train. The strange revelation that I did the job right reminded me of one thing that I am: thorough. To me, it was greater than a compliment, because it wasn't intended to be such and was thus devoid of all insincerity or social compulsion, just good manners. It boosted my confidence, and I'm ready to keep doing good work. I mean, hell, they've already extended my assignment by a month and a half, so I can't be that awful, right?
I came home at the end of the day, and found that all three buds on my orchid had bloomed. Most people throw away their orchids after the flowers wither, but I kept this one for a year, and now, it is beautiful again. There's one more thing I can do. I wonder what else is out there.
Here's the scenario: we had to reorder some record boxes from storage. My job was to search for the box numbers in our database, E-mail them to my supervisor, and she would take it from there. So I did, and I checked it twice, sort of like Santa, but not.
Today, I was informed that I'd ordered the wrong boxes, a big faux pas, because to reorder boxes costs about $50 per box. Though confused, I was sure I had made the mistake out of sheer laziness and prepared to enter the classic area of self-punishment. Still, my supervisor wanted me to re-verify in the database, which I did. Much to our mutual surprise, the numbers were wrong in the database, hence the apology. Much to my greater surprise, the error was not my own.
Over the years, I've grown accustomed to accepting blame for a lot of things, whether or not I'm actually responsible for them. Since my memory of each step of a monotonous process isn't fantastic, I err on the side of criticism because I simply do not have the instant recollection to say with 100% conviction that the error was not my own. At that point, I jump on the criticism bandwagon and start berating my work, my work ethic, my memory, how I'll never really be a good employee, etc. It's basically a frenzy to assure myself that I'm not stupid, just lazy, but not lazy, just tired, but not tired, too stressed, which leads to a whole new surge of criticism and compounds the latter problem.
In the past year, these trains of thought have begun occurring less frequently, but when I do jump on one of them, it does start down a lot of the same tracks. I'm obsessed with assuring people that I'm not stupid, that I'm not lazy, that I'm not mean, that I'm not emotionally invested, that I'm not a writer, that I don't take part in the USC-UCLA rivalry, that I'm not attracted to anyone, that I'm not religious, that I'm not an atheist, that I'm not like a Californian, that I'm not like a Utahn, that I'm not like an American, that I'm not like an Earthling... Toot toot!
And so today, this simple sentence, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blame you," knocked me right off the train. The strange revelation that I did the job right reminded me of one thing that I am: thorough. To me, it was greater than a compliment, because it wasn't intended to be such and was thus devoid of all insincerity or social compulsion, just good manners. It boosted my confidence, and I'm ready to keep doing good work. I mean, hell, they've already extended my assignment by a month and a half, so I can't be that awful, right?
I came home at the end of the day, and found that all three buds on my orchid had bloomed. Most people throw away their orchids after the flowers wither, but I kept this one for a year, and now, it is beautiful again. There's one more thing I can do. I wonder what else is out there.
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