Oh my goodness, I am a stress-ball. Work has been (more-than-usual) crazy lately. But, I don't really want to talk about it.
Oh, okay. I will but just the nut-shell version. The to-make-a-long-story-short version.
Basically, we're going through some massive changes. Our CEO, who has made sweeping changes during her reign has just resigned to take a position with Royal Mail. That's fabulous for her. There's just one problem...she didn't finish what she started. I have huge issues with that, because she's basically caused chaos within our unionized environment. She's rocked the boat, huge. And now she leaves...6 months before our union's contract is up. Can you spell S-T-R-I-K-E? Have I mentioned that our union's collective agreement is 525 pages long. Ya....it's gonna be a fun New Year. And I cannot decide whether I feel she's super-smart to get out now or a coward for not finishing the battle she began.
We're also "De-layering" in the next month and a half. Someone somewhere (probably the aforementioned CEO) has decided that we're management heavy and so they're bumping Superintendent's (as in my boss) to Supervisors (as in me...) No one knows where this leaves anyone and anyone who does know is totally tight lipped, because God forbid if we were all on the same page. I'm in the bottom ten on the seniority totem pole, so things do not look good for me. I'm kind of kicking myself in the arse because I know the signs...I come from the airline industry. Hello!!! You start limiting how many paperclips we can buy and the alarm bells should start dinging immediately. But I didn't really see them this time. I mean, it's the post office. No one ever gets laid off from the post office...right???
Then we've decided to "modernize". This might sound silly to most of you, however....we bought our last mechanized postal system from the great US of A when they retired their system. Now (and I am not stretching the truth at all here....) if we need parts for our machines, we can go to the USA Postal Museum and hope and pray and cross our fingers that it hasn't been taken already. Yup...our contingency plan is a postal museum. Scary, right? So someone (ya ya, okay...our CEO) decides we need new machines that come with new parts and faster parts. Sounds great, right? Well, not if you're used to the same thing that you've used for the past 35 years. That shiny new machine spells terror in the hearts and minds of every single one of our employees.
Funny thing, we've also discovered that letting employees take 45 minute breaks instead of 35 (30 + 5 minutes for "Wash up"...and you thought I was joking when I said the collective agreement was 525 pages long...) is not viable for a company who gets more money when they produce more volume. Huh, hey...go figure. I'm no CEO...but I could have told you that.
And we have a new manager. Who's way, way different from our last manager. And it's rattled all our cages just a little. For good or for bad. You know, you get used to same ol' same ol'.
Wow. That was the short story. Can you even imagine the long story??? But like I said, I really don't want to talk about it.
It all just makes me want to hide under my blankets and not get out. Ever. I feel reasonably happy until I get into this place and then the puke green walls and the dirty floors just drain any remaining energy or happiness.
I'm in a funk.
I don't know why I'm here.
My employees hate me. And not that I'm here to make friends. I'm not. The point is whether you want new friends or not, the fact that people actually despise you is pretty depressing in and of itself. I'm the mouth piece for all the sweeping changes, so I'm the easiest one to hate. I get that. But I'm cute and I'm adorable and for those reasons alone, you are not supposed to hate me. You're supposed to love me because I'm just so darn lovable.
And who's life am I really changing for the better? No one's gonna be at my funeral fondly recalling how I suspended them because their attendance was atrocious or because I made them actually do their job correctly.
I need a purpose other than being someones scapegoat.
Psssst...don't tell anyone, but....I have an idea.
Well...unless I win the Lottomax tonight that's at $50 mill...and then my idea doesn't really matter anymore.
Has anyone ever heard of Arbonne? For lack of better understanding...it's kind of like Mary Kay or Avon only like 150% better quality. Ladies, it is high class.
What does this mean for me? It means parties and selling and more parties and ohhh, Margarita parties and cupcake parties and networking and selling. It means working on my own schedule and being my own boss and seeing my child.
And make-up is not just make-up. I know first hand what it feels like to put on a pretty face and actually feel pretty. When you're down in the dumps and someone takes the time to tell you that you're pretty...it means the world. Self care, even if it's only a cuppa tea or a bubble bath...although it could be a spa day, is vital to emotional health. I know that when I had post-partum depression taking care of me first and Q second is probably what kept us both alive at times. If I could share this with other ladies....well, that would just be meaningful.
On the side, I would love to start a charity where I would use my new products to give make overs to women who are entering the workforce after a long absence. Maybe they're coming out of a divorce or coming back after maternity leave. Maybe they've left an abusive relationship and they need a little bit of confidence. Looking as good on the outside as you feel on the inside is never, ever a bad thing.
And then, if I were on my own schedule...I could be a foster mom...which is something I really, really, really want to do.
That's the plan.
Now, I just need the cash...
Oh...that'll be easy....