I don't do rah-rah bullshit

Well, I've now been asked THREE times if I'm going to this office "goodbye" party. The answer is a resounding NO.



Ok, we've been in this building 67 years, but Wednesday nights aren't good for me. I go home early, conk out in bed and skate the next day. Yes, even in the summer. I am only required to be here until 5:30 at night. If you want to paint that as not having "office spirit", so be it. Look at my work record. What I do every day, and the results I produce. THAT, kiddies, is WAY more important.



I remember vividly back in high school in January 1986 when I refused to wear the school "spirit" color--red--and was promptly bitched out with squeaky smiles and loaded questions from Jeanne Marie Mourry and her nose-jobbed crew. My reasoning? First of all, we wore (hideous) navy blue uniforms. Red does not go with navy blue, unless you are in the military, and that's even more hideous. Secondly, I absolutely hated that school. I went there, followed the rules--you know, the real rules as in "will I get expelled if I break these" rules, my parents paid tuition, and I went to their classes, including religion (though I hid an astrology book in my locker--a major Catholic no-no) with as much of a non-sneer (can't call it a smile)as I could muster. I did manage a compromise: a red string tied around my left arm thanks to Valerie Bono. Imagine that! I was kabbalah years before Madonna. Who'dathunk? Jeanne and a few other teachers promptly shut up.



The only difference between questioning my spirit then and now is that I don't hate this place, I respect what this company stands for. I just don't care to socialize with some of the people on this floor. It's becoming very clear that there is a real divide in the values around here. I am also clearly aware that I do not possess that ass-kissing, people-pleasing disease from which most females suffer. It is this suffocation to which I won't submit that marks a vast divide between myself and them. Gelsey wrote in her book (that is my bible): " I learned who I was from learning what I was not." That's applicable here in a BIG way. Call me a free spirit, non-conformist, or a hellraiser...I could care less. Label it all you want, bottom line is I'm run down and want to go home.



Could this thing have been scheduled on a Thursday or a Friday? Maybe I'd stay for 15 minutes, but my time is my time. If that spits in the face of the "corporate structure", then fine. Most of these megalomaniacs don't know what or who they are without power options blended into the mix. They really do want to be perceived in a certain way. If I gave less of a fuck, I'd be in a coma. You don't like me? Tell it to Sweeney, honey, it ain't gonna change the way I am. Been there, done that. Men don't apologize, justify, or explain when their time runs out, why should I?



It's starting to be about 'show' around here, and it's starting to mirror those critical years between 1985-1989 when I suffered through the second all-girls school. It's like a book to me: "Females & Theology: The Great Sociology Experiment." Blind faith? You can have it. Insecurity? Couldn't care less. Conformity? PUHHHLEASE, THIS IS ME YOU'RE TALKING TO. Love me, hate me, you will be talking about me and my wacked-out personality YEARS from now. I am pretty damn COLORFUL no matter how you slice it.



I've often said I'd like to fake my own death just to disguise myself in order to eavesdrop on who said what and how many funny stories there are. I am a hell of a character, whether people can deal with it or not. Why should I cower to such "cheerleading" bullshit like what's going on in this place? Is it going into my benefits? My paycheck? That's a lot more corporate than me turning into Sigourney Weaver from Working Girl. I mean if it all comes down to money, why the smokescreen about 'spirit', 'community', and 'comraderie'? Who are these people kidding? I've seen more sniping, backstabbing, bitching, pissing, and groaning since January of this year than in all the years I've been here.



And therein lies the rub perhaps: I'm beginning to see it, and they don't think I do.



Well, well. I think I'll bide my time. We move, I go to HR, and look around a bit. There's got to me more spaces for me than just this office.



***insert Grinchy grin here***