I don't blog about work very much because, quite frankly, I don't want to be fired. I know that a few co-workers sometimes read my blog (one said, "oh ya, you know...when I'm in the bathroom"). I'm just grateful people read it, I don't so much care where or when. I find, though, that when I feel *inspired* to blog about work, it's because I'm angry and I'm frustrated and that never served anyone well. And so I just don't.
The last couple of weeks have been extra trying for me at work. Again, knowing that I have a child I have to support for at least the next 10 years, and also counting on the fact that he will need braces for at least two of those years, I have to bite my tongue on the specifics, but I can and will say that I have had to take a lot of deep breaths, smile to hide the frown, and take a few time outs so I didn't kill anyone.
It hit me today.
I am at the bottom of the ladder.
That in and of itself is not such a bad thing. The bad thing is this...
I think like I'm at the top.
Ahhhhhh, can you see my frustration now? I am like a mosquito in a blood bank.
I watch as newly appointed *managers* make wide sweeping changes without a) understanding the processes they're trying to change and b) thinking through every step of the process they're attempting to change. The result is that they sit in their offices thinking they've done a great job, and me, my colleagues and a few others deal with the fall-out.
I understand the process, the products, the trials, the tribulations, the flow, but no one asks for my input. And that is because I am at the bottom of the ladder. My job is not to create new processes or refine the ones we already have. My job isn't to streamline product types. My job isn't even really to make sure we all see positive results at the end of the year. My job is to supervise 15 employees in one section of one building, a small fraction of hundreds of sections and hundreds of buildings across the country.
No wonder I'm frustrated. No wonder coming to work sometimes feels like I'm banging my head against a wall. I'm standing in one small corner of the big, big picture.
I'm a pixel.
That's it. In the huge scheme of things, I am a pixel.
Well, I'm a pixel that supervises other, slightly smaller pixels.
It's not a pixels job to change the world.
Another pixel could easily fill my spot here and I would not even be missed. I am replaceable. I am insignificant in the world of mail. It doesn't really matter that it's mail. No matter where I am, I will never be a significant player in the corporate world. That is just not who I am.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I want the spotlight. It's not like I want to be the CEO. It's not even that I want to be the manager. The manager happens to be one of the few around here who actually knows what is going on around here. I just want to be significant. I want to know that what I'm doing in life matters. I want to quit bitching about the coworker who has a fricken answer for everything and *knows* everything, and be apart of something that revolutionizes the world, a movement that changes life for the better. I wouldn't mind being on the bottom of that ladder.
I'm struggling to find a purpose where I am right now.