the lost Dr. Seuss poem

I love my job, I love the pay!
I love it more and more each day.
I love my boss, she is the best!
I love her boss and all the rest.

I love my office and its location,
I hate to have to go on vacation.
I love my furniture, drab and gray,
And piles of paper that grow each day!

I think my job is really swell,
There's nothing else I love so well.
I love to work among my peers,
I love their leers, and jeers, and sneers.

I love my computer and its software;
I hug it often though it won't care.
I love each program and every file.
I'd love them more if they worked a while.

I'm happy to be here. I am. I am.
I'm the happiest slave of the Firm, I am.
I love this work, I love these chores.
I love the meetings with deadly bores.

I love my job - I'll say it again -
I even love those friendly men.
Those friendly men who've come today,
In clean white coats to take me away!!!

Thank God for meetings ... I'm about to snap.

Actually, my boss is great. And her bosses are great. It's just the rest of the company (and the mean, cruel policies) that I can't stand.

I have one of those Human Resources positions where I constantly witness extreme disparity.

One minute, a clerk making $6/hour calls to ask why she wasn't issued any vacation for the year, because she hurt her back and our company doesn't provide Sick time to clerks. I have to explain that she didn't work enough hours to earn the vacation ... she missed it by a few hours. She complains, asks me how she's going to pay her bills, and hangs up scared.

The next minute, a millionaire executive calls to complain that he was only issued 4 weeks of vacation instead of 6 -- and how is that $250,000 bonus going to affect his 401-k? I want to beat the bloody hell out of him, and let the clerk throw a few punches too.

The disparity pisses me off. The policies are bullshit. They're designed to make the rich richer and the poor poorer. I simply can't put up with it anymore. It's wrong. It isn't fair.

I understand that every company operates like this, but I wish I worked in a position where I didn't have to see it. Because when I see it, I want to do something to fix it ... but I can't. Nobody listens, nobody cares.

And that sucks.

I'm not cut out for this type of job. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I can't wait to leave.

used

Well apparently I've done a very good job at work. I received an excellent job review and lots of praise from my supervisor and bosses.

The impossible project they assigned to me is going well, despite the fact that I'm having to reinvent the wheel to make it happen.

I started to feel unappreciated though, when I didn't receive a salary increase with my job review. They said it was because I was promoted within the past six months, so I got my salary increase at that time instead. I didn't really like that answer, but I didn't say anything and went along with it anyway.

And then they issued the company-wide bonus checks yesterday. It's the big Annual Bonus Check. The magical check. The check everyone looks forward to receiving -- the Mark Grizwold fantasy bonus check (see the movie "Christmas Vacation").

Mine was for $25. Everyone else's was for much, much more.

I can't help but feel terribly insulted ... I didn't get a performance raise, I didn't get a bonus, and they assigned me a project that is too work-intense for them to do themselves, and too difficult for my coworkers to do. That should be worth something right?

I wanted to tell them to reverse that bonus check -- because it's insulting and I don't want it. That seems to be pride. But what's the difference between pride and standing up for yourself?

I'm not the kind of person to complain. But I really want to quit. I'm so tempted to walk away. But that would be irresponsible on my part without having another job lined up.

I don't like being angry ... I don't like making a fuss ... but I don't like being taken advantage of either.

I feel like I should say something. But I'm afraid that if I open my mouth, I'll say something regrettable. It's hard to find "balance" in something like this.

A year ago, I was so thankful to get this job. I felt so lucky to finally have a job. And although I'm still thankful to be employed, I'm resentful toward the way I'm being treated.

Maybe it's time to be thankful to get a job somewhere else.


_________________________________
Note Added: October 19, 2007

I went in for a one-on-one progress meeting with my supervisor today. I was considering telling her about how I felt. But so far I hadn't mentioned any disappointment to anyone.

My supervisor entered the meeting room, but then she was followed by another supervisor, the manager, and the director. It was either going to be very good news or very bad news.

They explained that everyone received bonus checks, but mine was small because I was hired a few days after the start of the 2006 financial year. And they didn't think it was fair that my bonus was so small due to a minor technicality.

They presented me with a "Thank You" card that they had all signed, and it contained a Visa gift card for $100.

I'm very glad that I didn't voice the disappointment I felt yesterday.

It's hard to know when to shut-up and when to speak-up. Maybe that's one of those things that comes with time?

... and another door opens

Every time a door closes, another one opens.

A door closed for me, and I don't like what's behind the newly-opened door. I knew beforehand that this was going to happen, and I thought I could handle it. But now that it has actually taken place, I can't handle it. I absolutely hate the way things changed. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

Because I can't control anything but my own actions, I have to decide what to do next.

I'm torn between two extremes:

1. mourn the loss excessively, as if my entire life is ruined forever; or
   
2. cut my losses and decide that what I lost was stupid and never mattered anyway.

Neither extreme is really truthful. My life isn't "ruined forever", although it feels that way. And what I lost wasn't "stupid" -- it did matter, and it still matters, otherwise I wouldn't feel hurt.

There's an honest middle-ground somewhere. I've never been one for finding it. It's easier just to give up and take an extreme than to fight for balance over that complicated middle ground.

I'd love to go to a meeting, but I'm sick with some sort of cold/flu/plague thing that was graciously shared with me by a coworker last week. Being physically sick doesn't make this any easier.

In the end, it's all about acceptance and honesty. It's not about how I see it or how I want it to be, it's about how it is ... and I don't like it.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can; and
Wisdom to know the difference;
Living one day at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He would make all things right if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him forever in the next.

we did not like their symptoms and the way these disturbed us ...

"We had to see that when we harbored grudges and planned revenge for such defeats, we were really beating ourselves with the club of anger we had intended to use on others."

--Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, p. 47

Normally, I'm not a person who gives in to anger. I tend to lean more toward the depressive end of the scale. If I get angry, I'm angry with myself.

But the other day, I became angry in response to the actions of another person. I allowed myself to fume and stew, constantly reliving the issue and even predicting future issues with this person. This resulted in being hit with overwhelming waves of rage and hatred -- even about things that haven't happened yet (and may never happen at all).

I knew I needed to let it go, but I wouldn't. In my mind, this person deserved to be hated.

So I fumed. And I stewed. And I hated.

I knew all along that I was wrong, and I knew the answer, but I was not willing to accept it until my anger was exhausted:

"This was our course: We realized that the people who wronged us were perhaps spiritually sick. Though we did not like their symptoms and the way these disturbed us, they, like ourselves, were sick too. We asked God to help us show them the same tolerance, pity, and patience that we would cheerfully grant a sick friend. When a person offended we said to ourselves, 'This is a sick man. How can I be helpful to him? God save me from being angry. Thy will be done.'

"We avoid retaliation or argument. We wouldn't treat sick people that way. If we do, we destroy our chance of being helpful. We cannot be helpful to all people, but at least God will show us how to take a kindly and tolerant view of each and every one."

-- Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 66-67

Now I'm exhausted, wondering why I allowed myself to get so bent out of shape. I knew the answer the whole time, and I only hurt myself in the process.

"When a drunk has a terrific hangover because he drank heavily yesterday, he cannot live well today. But there is another kind of hangover which we all experience whether we are drinking or not. That is the emotional hangover, the direct result of yesterday's and sometimes today's excesses of negative emotion - anger, fear, jealousy, and the like. If we would live serenely today and tomorrow, we certainly need to eliminate these hangovers."

--Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, p. 88

I have more work to do ... so much more work.