As part of Work Therapy, we have to take a Talents/Strengths evaluation (StrengthsFinder)–a series of questions meant to determine your top five Strengths/Talents inherant to how you operate in the world–at work and otherwise.
Mine are, in order:
-Input
-Achiever (notice the lack of Over- or Under-)
-Learner
-Restorative
-Communication
The descriptions of each Talent seem to fit me, and the Achiever title isn't as obnoxious as one might think. A few lines of the in-depth descriptions really hit home:
"If you like to travel, it is because each new location offers novel artifacts and facts. These can be acquired and then stored away." (Input)
"You start each day at Zero. By the end of the day you must achieve something tangible to feel good about yourself" (Achiever)
"This Learner theme does not necessarily mean that you seek to become the subject matter expert, or that you are striving for the respect that accompanies a professional or academic credential. The outcome of the learning is less significant than the “getting there.” (Learner)
"But what is certain is that you enjoy bringing things back to life. It is a wonderful feeling to identify the undermining factor(s), eradicate them, and restore something to its true glory. Intuitively, you know that without your intervention, this thing—this machine, this technique, this person, this company—might have ceased to function. You fixed it, resuscitated it, rekindled its vitality. Phrasing it the way you might, you saved it." (Restorative)
"This is why people like to listen to you. Your word pictures pique their interest, sharpen their world, and inspire them to act." (Communication)
The first thing, the FIRST thing I said to my boss, during the INTERVIEW was "I don't want to be your manager. I will be your best salesperson, but don't reward me by promoting me to management where I will be ineffective and miserable".
Clearly, I didn't stick to my guns and here I am, three years later–ineffective and miserable. And it's so familiar–it's happened in every single job I've ever held. I hope, I pray, that Work Therapy gives me the strength to stand my ground and negotiate a position that lets me go back to what I do best–one without that dreadful title of Manager. (cringe)
Is there such a thing as 'Designer/Chief Problem Solver'?
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They've brought in a Business Coach at work. I was scheduled to meet with her, as an introduction to the process, for half an hour on Friday.
I was with a client at the appointed time, so the bookkeeper went first. When my time came, we sat in the only available space with a closable door and some privacy. The meeting was to be confidential, and an opportunity to express the things we would like to change about our work environment and business culture.
I was all set to unload my many, many issues when a co-worker knocked on the door, unable to answer a customers question. I excused myself, and helped the customer–the customer was one I was expecting to drop in–I had prepared the co-worker with exact instructions on how to help her and explained that I would not be available. It took me three minutes to wrap up the $328 sale. Of course, it took 10 minutes to do the required charming chit-chat.
Ok, back in my seat, still not-unloaded because the Coach had barely had a chance to finish explaining her role, expectations, etc. What then? My boss barges in, no knocking, no apology.
Time's up.
I fumed the rest of the day–here's probably the most important meeting of my entire tenure at this job, and a co-worker can't muster up the stuff to hold off a customer or complete the sale? And adding insult, I found out later that he asked my bosses (both of them!) if he could interrupt my meeting and they said YES. Man up, figure it out yourself! And then the boss, throwing the door open on a confidential and sensitive meeting to do what, check for email from his boyfriend??
Then, a day later, I realized that perhaps it was better that I didn't get to list my many small and large complaints (I might have embarrassed myself by crying anyway)–when two beautiful examples of my problems came right through the door! -
Sentence of the Day at work:
"I have to have constant, hot lubrication."
Get your minds out of the gutter, the topic was beverages. -
A co-worker asked me what I had wanted to be when I grew up, when I was little:
"A textile designer".
"And one of the people who does the tiny little line drawings and doodles in the New Yorker."
(pause)
"Oh, and a war-zone photojournalist".
"A what?" (shocked expression).
"Yeah, why not? I have one of the coats even."
I wonder if Tom still wants to be a racecar driver. -
I've given in, I've succombed to the hippy-dippy, sandal-wearing life-style such as it is out here on the Granola Coast.
After two weeks of agony, my boss finally convinced me to see his Chiropractor. The magic words were "It's covered on our health plan". Ok, for free, I'll try anything. To be able to move again, I'll try anything.
My back problems are the result of too many years of moving furniture, a general disconnect with how to use my body, and oodles of stress–I'm a stress-holder-inner. It oozes its way out in muscle cramps, swollen joints, and debilitating back strains. How can a chiropractor help me? Unless he knows how to track a mis-labeled blanket-wrap shipment, direct five phone calls a minute, design and deliver a furnished model unit on a zero budget in one day, correct the books and manage a surly staff, then it didn't look likely.
Turns out, he's a miracle worker. I am converted. Once a week now, I go for an 'adjustment'. There's nervous chit-chat, followed by some awkward massaging and touching, and finally, a good-old back cracking snap. It's all over in less than 20 minutes.
Sounds like a date.
Imagine how good I'd feel if I actually had sex? -
Best Scrabble word this week: QUIETED for 116 points.
Most interesting Scrabble word this week: WHIRLED for 83 points.
Yes, I am a loser. But not at Scrabble!! -
I did my back in again this week. On Dad's advice, I got myself a "nifty little garment", aka a back brace. Soooo sexy. Just about as attractive as the grunting sounds I make when trying to pick up a pencil.
I can't bend, I can't turn, I can hardly walk–I'm doing the 'back pain' shuffle. I gave the dog her water this morning with a watering can because I can't reach her bowl. Good thing she's wired to eat anything, anywhere–I tossed a handful of dog food on the floor. She thinks it's a new game-Find the Kibble That Rolled Under the Fridge.
My doc gave me meds –Vicodin and Flexeral. The Flexeral works great, loosens it up so I can move and maybe try to walk it off a bit. But I'm in so much pain, I have to give in and take the Vicodin afterall–which gives me just a tiny window to get a few things done around the house before I fall into a drooling stupor. Kate + meds= snoozeville.
I got the meds by phone, but in desperation, I did go in to see her yesterday. I really strained it this time–there's a huge knot over my right hip, the muscles are in nearly continuous spasm. She advised having my "Husband, Boyfriend, Girlfriend or Partner" help work out the knot. Blank look. "Boyfriend?". "Partner?, Girlfriend?" Bless her, she was so focused on being 'pc' with the inclusion of a same-sex significant other that she didn't even consider there'd be a big fat Nobody.
And I thought the worse pain I would feel this month was the dental work last week. Oh, how I wish that were true. -
Tom adjusts to the new location of 'his spot'. Ruby stands guard.
Before
After
Tom's new place is great, big and light and roomy. All the family pitched in to send him furnishings–from Grandpa's prints to Mom's rug to John and Molly's redo of the chairs to Aunt Peg's couch, table and bed. He worked on Friday, so I spent most of the day cleaning, organizing and arranging furniture…sounds so familiar. Was I on a break or still at work? I have a problem–even 1000 miles away, I still want to put things in their right place.
Favorite conversation with my brother (aside from The Lightbulb Story):
Tom: sniff, sniff "Did you wash my sheets or something?"
Me: "Yes, I washed your sheets, the toss pillows covers..even your duvet cover."
Tom: "You can wash those?"
Did we not grow up the same house? At least I was spared the Easy Mac–he had that for lunch when I was out enjoying my time in LA…by visiting a furniture factory. -
There's nothing quite like hitting the open road with your dog–sun in your face, wind in your hair…
steering wheel gripped with your knees as you struggle at 65 curvy miles per hour to open a jar of peanut butter so your dog can lick it off your fingers when climbing through the pass at 4000 ft elevation so she won't whine about the discomfort in her ears she doesn't understand but knows she doesn't like…holding the jar with your thighs, flinging the lid on the floor where it lands sticky-side down, then holding the wheel with one hand as you contort your other hand–wiggling a peanut butter-gobbed finger behind the seat at the general direction of the back seat where the only other passenger is looking back at you in the rear view mirror like the crazy woman that you are.
