Well, I'm not entirely sure ('cause that's how these things are) but my job may have "jumped the shark".
Will it be yet another case of "here we go again"?
How many names have I used to describe these paradigm shifts in how I view my work? Remember Monkey Shines, Almond Joy, Defarge Crisis, Embarqing, and ultimately The Koyaanisqatsi?
Jumping the shark may not be so fatal to the job's future though. I jumped it back in '93 at RIARC, not when I was demoted by surprise, but a few months later when I was told to self-edit my newsletter. A little thing like that, which was warranted given the circumstances, but still, I lost my innocence. I stayed on another 4 years but I wasn't in my own little comfort zone anymore. I felt like an employee, not a cherished family member.
I think I'm just coming to the realization that I'm constantly and repeatedly disappointed to find out that my workplace is not my second home. I subconsciously yearn for a work setting that, like the sitcoms of my youth, nurture a surrogate family atmosphere.
On "The Mary Tyler Moore Show", you know that deep down, Mr. Grant was like everyone's dad. Especially Mary's. On "Alice", Flo and the others in the diner, even gruff but lovable Mel, would have done anything for Alice. And of course, the gang on "Taxi" all looked out for one another, especially the very vulnerable Latka.
I thought that maybe going back into "human" services would help me to connect with humanity, including (and, actually, especially) co-workers. I met many of my past friends in the workplace (Michael P. and Michelle - Hojo's; Jeff D'Alio - Wrentham; Jeff Cooper - RIARC; Ric and Jay - DM; Alicison - Grants; Laurie - Chase) and maybe I was hoping to find at least one here. Sadly though, the same simmering "terrible despite" I recently observed bubbling over at places like Chase and Hewitt sits on the back burner here as well. It's just better hidden.
But eventually, like forgotten stew smoldering away, you get a whiff of it. And it smells bad indeed. I guess I'll just keep to myself, give up hopes of connecting with anyone here in this pastoral cesspool of spite and carry a big can of Glade.
Will it be yet another case of "here we go again"?
How many names have I used to describe these paradigm shifts in how I view my work? Remember Monkey Shines, Almond Joy, Defarge Crisis, Embarqing, and ultimately The Koyaanisqatsi?
Jumping the shark may not be so fatal to the job's future though. I jumped it back in '93 at RIARC, not when I was demoted by surprise, but a few months later when I was told to self-edit my newsletter. A little thing like that, which was warranted given the circumstances, but still, I lost my innocence. I stayed on another 4 years but I wasn't in my own little comfort zone anymore. I felt like an employee, not a cherished family member.
I think I'm just coming to the realization that I'm constantly and repeatedly disappointed to find out that my workplace is not my second home. I subconsciously yearn for a work setting that, like the sitcoms of my youth, nurture a surrogate family atmosphere.
On "The Mary Tyler Moore Show", you know that deep down, Mr. Grant was like everyone's dad. Especially Mary's. On "Alice", Flo and the others in the diner, even gruff but lovable Mel, would have done anything for Alice. And of course, the gang on "Taxi" all looked out for one another, especially the very vulnerable Latka.
I thought that maybe going back into "human" services would help me to connect with humanity, including (and, actually, especially) co-workers. I met many of my past friends in the workplace (Michael P. and Michelle - Hojo's; Jeff D'Alio - Wrentham; Jeff Cooper - RIARC; Ric and Jay - DM; Alicison - Grants; Laurie - Chase) and maybe I was hoping to find at least one here. Sadly though, the same simmering "terrible despite" I recently observed bubbling over at places like Chase and Hewitt sits on the back burner here as well. It's just better hidden.
But eventually, like forgotten stew smoldering away, you get a whiff of it. And it smells bad indeed. I guess I'll just keep to myself, give up hopes of connecting with anyone here in this pastoral cesspool of spite and carry a big can of Glade.