My boss is driving me crazy. Don't get me wrong; I love her. She's fun and enthusiastic and very encouraging. But . . .
Have you ever met somebody who feels entitled? They just assume that whatever concerns them at that moment should be everyone else's number one priority as well? I'm not talking about me - I'm the employee, so yeah, her business concerns should be my primary focus. But if the girl at Starbucks makes her tall 4 pump no water no foam chai (no joke) with three pumps instead of four, it is an affront to her sensitive soul. She's one of those people who treats retail workers as if they are a different species with diminished capacity and without their own humanity. You know, the woman who rolls her eyes and huffs and taps her fingers on the counter loudly - TAP TAP TAP - if she has to wait five minutes for her sandwich.
When we are not busy, she comes and leans on the front desk and yammers on and on about things that I do not want to know. I mean honestly, do I really need to know how many times in their marriage her husband has ejaculated? (Answer: four)
There is a dish of candy sitting on the desk for patients to take. A friend has come to visit and as she talks, without missing a beat, she unwraps a Lifesaver and instead of putting the wrapper in her pocket or placing it in the trash can, she thrusts out her hand at me so that I can dispose of it for her. Are you serious?! You can't place the wrapper in the trash can yourself?! Or at least turn your head and look at me, acknowledge my existence and ask me to throw it away for you? Especially since I'm the only one doing any work around here. Her hand hangs in the air for a minute and, still without looking at me, she waves it impatiently. I pinch the wrapper between my fingers, give it a puzzled glance, look at her, look at it, look at her, look at it, and place it gently on the counter for her to discard later.
Here's another scene:
She asks me to give her a phone number (a phone number, BTW, that is just as easily accessible on her computer from the same database from which I will retrieve it). I tell her I'll be able to get it in just a moment, as soon as I finish scheduling a patient. The patient's scheduling becomes involved; she has questions about insurance reimbursement and she wonders if she should schedule an appointment for her daughter. After a lengthy conversation, she is scheduled and leaves. Before I can return to writing a letter for the doctor to sign, she asks again for the phone number. "Oh, I'm sorry! Let me get that for you!"
You know the person who responds to an offhanded apology with WAY too much forgiveness? "Oh, no problem. It's so okay! Don't even worry about it. Really, don't feel bad. It's okay, I'm so not worried." Really? That makes two of us.
We are still waiting for our filing system to be delivered. Until then, we keep the patients' files in a box on the reception desk. The desk is large but oddly shaped, so there is not a lot of space to maneuver behind it. She will come and wedge herself in between where I am working and the file box, bitch about her parents ("My dad is mentally ill! No really, I'm not exagerrating! He drinks too much and he's a lousy tipper!"), and then, "Hey, can you hand me Mary Campbell's file?"
Um, yeah, if your body mass wasn't squashed in between me and the box like an overstuffed Italian Cold Cut. "Oh," I say, "It should be in the file box."
"Can you hand it to me?"
Okay, clearly a lost cause. "Sure!" I swing my chair around, accidentally grazing her arm. "Oops, excuse me!" Another "Excuse me" as I reach around her, clumsily trying to get to the file box.
"Oh, no! No problem! It's all good!" she says, shaking her head and grimacing to display how totally unperturbed she is, how completely I am absolved of my inadequacy.
These are very tiny things. Overall, I love my job and I love my boss. I feel so completely blessed to be working for her. She constantly showers me with encouragement. All day long, I hear things like:
"You have the best handwriting! It is so gorgeous!"
"You completed that project already?! You are so great!"
"How did you know what I needed? You're awesome!"
To a patient: "I couldn't do it without her. She is my brain."
Also to a patient: "Megan takes such good care of me."
She is constantly suggesting that people get a massage from me. The way she talks about my massage, you would think that I have healing balm dripping from my fingers. She is truly one of my biggest proponents.
And the most important thing of all: she demonstrates her respect and gratitude by paying me a fair salary.
So yeah, sometimes she's a pain in the ass. But she really is a great lady and a great person to work with and for and I would be a fool not to know how lucky I am.
But sometimes you just have to vent.