Saturday, August 25, 2012

There Is No “Maybe”

I have to admit that I’ve never really understood how the heart became associated with emotions.
I mean, given how common head injuries likely were throughout the ages, it shouldn’t have been difficult for people to figure out that the brain was where all of the thoughts and feelings were taking place.

Caveman One:  Thog not same since kicked in head by mastodon on last hunt.
Caveman Two:  Is true.  Him used to be happy.  Always singing hunting song of ancestors and smiling and showing his three good teeth.  Now him moody, distant, and quiet.
Caveman One:  Thog heart must be broken.
Caveman Two:  Must be.
Caveman Two:  …wait, what?

Anyway, setting aside what seems to me as the obvious trauma-related physiological observations, the other reason that I’ve never understood the notion of the heart as the seat of emotions is the fact that I tend to feel all of mine in my stomach.
Then again, maybe I’m just weird (See also:  The title of this post).
Still, the point of all of this is that yesterday, as I walked out of work with the (no longer) boss for the last time, I can’t say that I was heartbroken, but I was definitely stomachbroken.


After she put in her two weeks’ notice, our VP decided to get every last bit of work out of the boss that he could, so while she came in late and left early most of the last week, she did come in every day, and made sure that she got every last bit of help from me that she could.
I’m not complaining, of course; I was glad to be able to have the opportunity to be to help her out while she a. still has access to me and b. the thought occurs to her to ask me.
After all, she didn’t just leave the company, she’s actually leaving the state, so, barring anything I can do to help her virtually, once she’s moved away, there won’t be a lot I can do for her, and eventually circumstances will demand that she stop relying on me, and while there may be the occasional moment of wishing that I were around when she needs help, there will inevitably come a time when asking me won’t even be a consideration.
Of course, there are probably going to be delays to that natural process:

Me:  (In the process of exporting some information for her)  Pay attention.  You’re going to have to do the opposite of this when you want to import the information to your new computer.
Boss:  No, I’m not.  I’m going to call you and say “Help!”
Me:  *Sigh*
Boss:  It’s your fault!  You did all of this stuff for me instead of letting me do it myself and learn how to do it.
Me:  I’ve taught you to be helpless, haven’t I?
Boss:  Yes!

As I was continuing to help her with similar issues yesterday, someone else told me that I should “teach her to fish.”

Me:  It’s too late; she’s never going to catch anything.


It occurred to me that I probably should have written some sort of documentation on “The Care and Maintenance of The Boss” for whoever it is that has to take over for me at her new job…


The new job is in Florida, and she was supposed to head down there today in order to start on Monday, but her new boss called to tell her not to show up until the 4th, so as to avoid Hurricane Isaac.
It really is just like her to move to Florida just in time for hurricane season…


As for what’s going to happen to me in a post-boss world, that’s all still rather up in the air.
The team is currently reporting directly to our VP, with me designated as the “interim lead,” and the position is going to be posted so that a replacement for the boss can be found.
I’m not at all certain as to whether that’s merely a formality, or if I’m going to have to actually compete with other candidates.
While I’m not exactly known for my optimism, there are a lot of indicators apart from my generally fatalistic view that it is the latter, and that my chances aren’t really that great.
So, yeah.

1 comment:

lbugsh2 said...

The true secret is to not teach them so they keep having to come back to you more and more. Your way is by far smarter.