Feb
28
2007
Reflections
Author:Before my present gig as a reporter, I was on a run of well-paying but emotionally abusive jobs.
First there was the third-shift job providing technical support to stupid people. After countless berating calls from screaming, whining narcissistic people, my rosy optimism soon disintegrated into that of a bitter old hag.
Desperate to flee the confines of help desk hell, I took the first viable position that came my way in marketing for a small manufacturing company. I think I was the only employee below the age of 40 and certainly the only non-Republican.
The company itself wasn’t bad – free healthcare, great benefits –but working with my boss was about as satisfying as, say, receiving a colonoscopy, I imagine. Insipid, patronizing and incredibly micro-managing, Pete put the anal-compulsive and mean boss in the movie Office Space to shame.
Each morning I worked for Company X, the alarm clock would sound with a deafening sense of dread as another eight-hour workday loomed. Because my boss was so incredibly controlling, often I would be left with little to do. And for someone with adult ADD, boredom is a death sentence.
A few days ago, our department had a staff meeting. After the meeting, my editor pulled out an envelope and congratulated me for my 1,000 story submitted the week before. In the card, he wrote a nice comment along the lines that he wished he could clone me and enclosed a $30 gift card to the PF Chang restaurant.
I may not make as much money as I did before, but some benefits are priceless.
