In Sympathy

I want to thank you for the sympathy cards and letters I have been receiving. The floral wreaths were nice, too. For those of you who were worried for my well-being, I want to assure you that I am doing better now and expect to live, even though I didn’t get the job.

Sure, I was excited about it. Certainly, I thought that the interview went pretty well, although in retrospect I suppose I should not have revealed my addiction to The Bachelor and Dancing With the Stars. I knew that the job required long days and some late nights and I just wanted to reassure the boss that I could tape those shows and watch them later. I should have kept my mouth shut.

I tried to dress in a businesslike manner, but maybe I overdressed. I’m not sure. I thought the glasses would make me look smarter and more serious but…… I just don’t know. Getting lost in the parking garage didn’t help either. Bummer!

It was a great job, too. It paid so little that when they warned me how low the salary was, I told them I didn’t want to know. Seriously. I knew that it would only depress me and the truth is, the money wasn’t the most important consideration, although, I’m sure my landlord would disagree. It was just a terrific, kick-ass job and it would have kept me out of the bars.

Long hours, lots of stress, low pay. Who could resist? Besides, it only lasted as long as the legislative session and then it would end. Most of us can do anything if we know that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Working right in the middle of all that legislative action. Watching the trading and the voting and the lying and the lobbying and the poor legislators trying to do the right thing for their constituents during this lousy economic meltdown. It’s like watching a 24/7 poker game where everyone is bluffing and no one ever wins. What an education!

The people who ran the office were great, too. I knew the “big honcho,” although we are not best friends or anything. I hoped that would help. Maybe I do better with people who don’t know me.

I tried not to get my hopes up. My late mother-in-law would have been proud. Her motto in life was, “Don’t get your hopes up.” She taught it to her four boys and even though she is gone now, they still cling to the concept that the glass is always half empty. Maybe completely empty.

But in the end, I didn’t get the job. Bummer! If I discover that it went to some entry-level 22-year-old I am just going to slit my wrists.

By the way, tulips and daffodils with a somber black ribbon are always appropriate for situations like this, if you’re wondering…..

You Heard Me Say WHAT??

“That’s not what you said.”

This person is intelligent, articulate, and a friend. How could he possibly not understand what I said? I was very clear. Wasn’t I? Well, wasn’t I?

English is my mother-tongue. I have spoken it all my life. So I am always surprised when I say something very clearly and the other person hears something entirely different. Maybe it’s a simple language barrier: We both speak English but his is Mars-dialect and mine has a very distinct Venus-accent. Bad translation, perhaps.

And we weren’t even in conflict. Conflict communication can get really tricky. My thoughts go back to the office not so long ago when what I really wanted to say is, “Hey lard-ass, the presentation is tomorrow and Michelle suspects that you haven’t even started to write it, which means that she will be stuck here at midnight putting together the PowerPoint; so why are you busy posting a funny picture on FaceBook?” But I didn’t say that, because I am a caring boss who wants to empower my employees and constantly reinforce their self-worth to inspire a more team-driven end-product. Instead I said, “How’s the presentation coming?”

Polite. Inquisitive but not prying. Said in a friendly supportive tone of voice. But what he heard was, “Hey lard-ass, the presentation is tomorrow and Michelle suspects that you haven’t even started to write it, which means that she will be here at midnight putting together the PowerPoint; so why are you busy posting a funny picture on FaceBook?”

Strange. I didn’t say that. So he countered with, “Listen Bitch, stop riding me so hard. I could write this in my sleep and, besides, I’m taking a personal break here so why don’t you back off before I go postal.” No, actually what he said was, “Almost finished,” which meant that Michelle is probably right, and it’s not even started.

So in my best upbeat voice, while turning away, I said, “Great! Let me know if you could use a hand.” Which, in Kay-speak means, “Why do I even try to give these people more responsibility? I could have written this in my sleep.” And I go back to my office.

Given our tendency to hear what we expect to hear, miscommunication can happen easily. In addition, body language and tone of voice add heavily to the message being conveyed. I often tell my husband, “It’s not what you said, it’s how you said it.” He takes great exception to this, by the way, and always feigns complete innocence. Sure.

Most of us in the business world have taken some kind of seminar on communication where they teach you active listening, and positive spin, and putting yourself in the other person’s shoes. We learn to respect the other person’s belief, eliminate ambiguity, and most importantly keep our communications non-confrontational.

“Constant kindness can accomplish much.” said Albert Schweitzer, “As the sun makes ice melt, kindness causes misunderstanding, mistrust, and hostility to evaporate.” Albert clearly never visited my office.

By the way, Michelle refuses to think of this as an opportunity for growth; she wants overtime for having had to stay after midnight.