Health Care - It's where it's at!
I applied for and ultimately took the job at the eye-clinic because I was so over, so so so over, property management. I was finished with the grumbling and the leaking toilets and the games that upper management played. While the position itself had been a pretty cushy one, times were changing and so was the ownership and management team at the Senior Community I had been employed with for the past four years.
It was bitter sweet leaving. No more sweet residents (or grouchy ones), no more working with two good friends (who fought most of the time anyway) and no more cushy job. Still, the future looked bright. The new job offered retirement and a future. It also offered a clothing allowance - Dude! A clothing allowance! There were solid medical benefits offered and since I have twenty years or so left to work, this position seemed like a solid choice.
Sadly, I was unprepared for a Micro Managing Manager.
In my early twenties, I worked for one of these MMM's. They told you exactly, when, how and why to do things. They scheduled EVERYTHING and they did their very best to make darn sure you were kept busy. MMM's like to squeeze every ounce of productivity out of their employee pool. They will get their pound of flesh, one way or the other.
Which I suppose is fine for some, but not for me. Not at forty-seven years old. My twenty-something self took it, but at this stage of life I'm more apt to tell them what they can do with their middle management glory, than actually put up with their power trip. I’m a "tell it like it is" kind of gal. The MMM did not know what to think of this. She would stare at me and blink during some of our discussions. I felt a little bad for her. I wasn't impressed by her and it was obvious. I was not disrespectful or snarky. I simply found it impossible to play her little game.
I was the voice of descent in the ranks!
The other "girls" in my hub were young. Young women, young mothers, who needed this job! They clung to those positions and kept their heads down, eyes averted when the MMM was on the prowl. These girls always looked busy and I was told to slow down on a certain project because if I finished it, it meant that the MMM would find me a new, fun project to complete. I was assured these "projects" were never fun.
When I was offered the position, I was not informed of bi-monthly 7:00 am meetings. They also failed to inform me that my hours could be changed according to the MMM's whim. One of the reasons that I had taken the job was due to the compatibility of the hours with my family's schedule. I would still be able to drop the girls at school and would return home at exactly the same time, but with a much shorter commute.
The 7:00 am meetings were going to be a big problem for me and I admit that I was annoyed that they hadn't been mentioned previous to my accepting the position. I went to MMM and explained that these meetings would be a problem for me. She, in turn, informed me that they were mandatory and that I'd have to figure something out. I explained about my girls, with a little detail, and said that I need to take them to school. She suggested my husband take them, that I find morning child care or that I find put them in an early school program.
In the end, I decided that this position was never going to work. They had not been upfront about my apparently fluid schedule and I am too old to kiss someone's butt. It was such a depressing, dark, miserable place to work. I lasted two weeks and only lost a smidge of my soul. I left the eye clinic behind, telling those young girls in the hub that they were worth more and that there are better jobs out there. One of them looked at me and said, "You're so brave!"
No, just old and cranky.
Today, I begin a new adventure with a small insurance office. My interview was daunting, with the boss and the entire staff volleying questions at me for two hours. Yet, I walked out of that interview liking what I'd seen and heard. I'm excited about the adventure to come and a little nervous too. New things are always hard at the beginning.
The two weeks I spent at the eye clinic reminded me that life is short. It is far too short to spend 8+ hours, five days a week, dressing like twinsies and having your time micro managed by a woman who is frustrated and on a power trip. Life has to be about more than that! I hope those girls at the clinic and others like them figure it out. It doesn't take bravery to look for a new job. It takes bravery NOT to give them the finger when you walk out the door for the last time.