Well, I'm Not Fired...Yet - Part I

The last couple of days have been…well…stressful, to say the least. I have a bunch of other adjectives and expletives I could include, but – suffice to say – I had a really bad day. Well, two bad days.

It began Monday afternoon when, Sandy, my loan packager, took umbrage at an email I sent to my staff. Here's the situation, it is time for me to prepare staff evaluations for their annual review and salary bump. I sent an email to all three back in mid-October asking them to submit anything they wanted me to include in their evaluations – above and beyond what I already track throughout the year. Casey stopped by my office and said she had some stuff and would get it to me…she never did. Kelly stopped by my office and said she was working on a report and would get it to me…she never did. Sandy…well…Sandy completely ignored my email. (That has been a nagging bone of contention of late with her.)

So, it is now mid-December. I don’t have that much time until the end of the year and Christmas vacation thrown in to boot, so Monday, I decided that “nice” had not worked, so I would try “sarcasm.” And let me just say, I did not state anything in the email that I would not say to them in person. Anyway, Casey responded with a witty email. Kelly responded with an amusing email. Sandy completely ignored my email…or so I thought.

Turns out, she lodged a complaint “of sorts” with our HR guy, then she sent me this vitriolic email filled with a litany of unfounded accusations. I can’t recall them all because I only read it once…that was all I could stomach. Basically, she told me how unprofessional I was, that I was constantly in a bad mood, and she felt like she had to walk on egg shells around me all the time and it had to stop. She said my email was “threatening” her livelihood…blah…blah…blah. Gotta tell ya…I was more than a wee bit stunned ‘cuz I wasn’t sure what email she had read, but it sure wasn’t the one I had written.

Anyway, I digested her rancorous comments then buzzed her through the intercom and asked her if she would join me in my office. Obviously, she had a bunch of stuff she needed to get off her chest. I’m very open with my staff…always have been. I’m dealing with three strong personalities…five if you count mine. It is a small office and it is only natural that disagreements will arise from time to time. Obviously, this wound had been festering for some time.

Actually, I had felt for a while now that things were not the “same” with Sandy. She used to come in my office and plop down in a chair and chat about her kids and grandkids, her husband, TV shows we both watched. But she had not done that for several weeks. She had become withdrawn…not as open…not as friendly. She did her job and conversed with me when she had to, but that was about it. She was almost back to her “old self” around the time of the audit, but then she clammed up again last week.

So, having said that, Sandy came into my office…loaded for bear…as my daddy would say. Well, no he didn’t, but somebody once did. Basically, she reaffirmed what she had said in her email to me. She told me if I didn’t believe it to ask “anyone” else in the office because everybody felt the same way. Truthfully, I don’t remember all that was said because I was so bewildered by the venom that was being spewed at me. Now, I’m not perfect…far from it…but neither am I the horrible person she professed me to be during her diatribe. Basically, I told her that…if she truly felt the way she did…she needed to find another job. I told her I didn’t want her to, but – ya know – I yam what I yam, and she has always managed to get along with me before. In fact, she has told me on numerous occasions that I was a great boss, that if I ever left the agency I’d better have a spot for her because she was coming with me. Her high opinion of me had obviously changed.

Sandy went back to work. I went back to work. Then Sandy and Kelly took a smoke break and all hell broke loose. I was walking down the hallway toward my office when Kelly hissed at me that, “Sandy’s quitting,” and she pointed toward Sandy’s cubicle where Sandy was hastily cramming some of her personal things into a box. My reaction? Well, I pretty much said, “That is Sandy’s choice.” I figured I’d better go give Dave the low-down and while I was in his office, Sandy stormed out of the building. She didn’t say a word to anybody…not “I quit” or “I’m outta here” or “have an apple.” (Anybody watch "White Christmas" yet?) She just walked out. No one knew if she resigned or just needed time and space to cool off.

Uh…hello…unprofessional!!

Obviously, the remainder of the day was…um…interesting. There were meetings and speculations and conjectures...oh my. Of course, every time someone walked past my office and looked in, I felt like they were thinking, “What the hell did she do to Sandy?” Let me tell you just how awful a boss I am. After the SBA Audit a couple of weeks ago, I went to Dave and told him I wanted to do something for my staff for pitching in the way they did to help me get the files ready and resolve issues the audit team found in the files, etc. He told me to make a recommendation, so I prepared a Memo in which I requested a “spot bonus” of $250 for each of them. I asked if they could “gross up” that amount so they would actually realize $250. Dave approved it.

Kelly, God love her, told Sandy what a fool she was for walking out. Kelly talked to Sandy last night and told her, “Girl, you’re late all the time, and she lets it slide. You leave early lots of times to deal with your family, and she never says anything. She just gave you a BONUS.” Sandy conceded that even though I was not a complete ogre, I was still too much of a shrew to work for anymore.

The crux of the matter…Sandy doesn’t like Casey. Casey has a big booming voice and a raucous laugh. She can be loud, okay? So can I. Under any given situation, on any given day, so can the rest of the employees. Sandy came to me a few months back and told me I had to do something about Casey, that I had to tell her to shut up because she was driving her crazy. I am the first to admit that, when Casey first came to work at HCDC, her laugh did get on my nerves, but I learned to tune it out. Others have noticed…you can’t help but notice…but how do you tell someone to stop being who they are? It’s not like she’s that way all the time, but she does have her moments and it is more pronounced when she is nervous.

I suggested since Sandy was the one with the problem, she should – tactfully – ask Casey to lower her voice the next time she found it offensive. The result? Sandy pouted at me for the next month or so. “How old is she?” you might very well ask. Fifty-two or three. She talked to me only if I asked her a specific question about work, and then she answered in short, abrupt sentences. If I passed her in the hall and said “hello” or something on that order, she ignored me. Okay, and I’m the unprofessional one. Forget unprofessional, how about being just plain ol’ courteous.

Well, the day dragged on. Different ones stopped in to ask me if I was okay. My former boss and “mentor,” Patrick, sent me an email saying he had heard about what happened and was there for me if I needed to talk. I held it together for most of the day until around 4:00p.m. when Paula – at the front desk – buzzed me and told me I needed to come out front because I had a delivery. As I’m walking – warily, mind you – down the hallway, I asked if Sandy had sent a “hit man” to get me. (Hey, I watch LOCI. I know that crap happens to poor schmucks just like me.)

Paula just laughed and said, “No, it’s from Christina.” Now, Christina is a young woman who I’ve sort of taken under my wing. She is a single mom, who works in the Reds ticket office. I’ll save the story of how our friendship evolved for another time, but basically, she makes sure I get good seats when I want to go to a game, and I am appreciative and take care of her… in my way. She calls me her “Guardian Angel.”

Christina is nowhere to be seen, however. She just dropped the gifts off and left. She knew I would take her to task for spending her money on me. Anyway, there was a nice gift basket with a candle and a mug and candy and some Christmas stuff. Then there was this big shopping bag from – of all places – “Victoria’s Secret.” Now, I gotta tell ya that it is no secret that there is nothing that Victoria sells that will fit my big ol’ body. Well, maybe the Santa hat the scantily clad young vixens who were depicted on the shopping bag were wearing. Gotta tell ya, I was more than a little intrigued.

So, I go back to my office and open up this big pink box to find a large cosmetic bag filled with lotions and potions and notions and such. The clincher: the metal designer tag on the front of the bag said, “Angel.” And that is when I lost it…and started to cry...just a little. Mike happened into my office at that moment and asked if I was okay, and I said, “It’s nice to know that not everyone thinks I’m a bitch.”

There is so much more to this “yarn,” but methinks I’ll save Part II for tomorrow.

Let me close this installment by saying, if ever...oh ever...there was a gal in need of a hug from her big ol’ cuddly-wuddly Detective Bobby, ‘twas me last night. Who am I kidding? I need a hug from him every night.