mood
like a boss
Today I talked about my blog. I had nothing to say on its development. That stung deeply, directly into the part of me that yearns for the ability to follow through. That's the same place that burns when I see my bass untouched, my craft bin still fully stocked, and my screenplay files unfinished and full of vague notes.
I haven't blogged in ages, much less managed to put up that long-awaited and nearly finished "upcoming layout" -- AHEM -- I promised myself I wouldn't come here to bitch about technology, actually, so I should stop there. Let's leave my "house of cards" computer drama outta this.
I have thoughts for you today, DYEblog, so it's a good day to be you.
I've talked a lot in recent years, in blogs and LJ and now-defunct Vox, about enacting actual positive change in my life. I've talked about how there had to be change coming, how thickly it hung in the air, how strong the breezes must be that are moving it. It was a slow start in 2010, but certainly a start as I am seeing this far along 2011.
Last Saturday I turned 26. It was a pretty boss day, a riotous and fantastic party weaving frank, intentional symbols of childhood with the subtly oppressive truths of emerging adulthood. Decades ago, 26 was an age where people had families and were entering what amounts to a promised-success factory. Thank Gen X and Y for turning that on its head, for agreeing that child-rearing was a means rather than an end, and for convincing so many of us idiots that art was a plausible, if not comfortable, way of life. I love it, and I always will, and as long as I don't have to bear children, I'll have license to behave like a child in the avenues I have open despite the trafficky plague that is "growing up."
With all that said, I also very recently got promoted at work. After three years in the coffee-shop trenches (and three different trenches at that), I've risen a step to middle-management. I've been no slouch in these damn coffee jobs, and frankly, to even be considered was validating enough. After all, I'd never been truly promoted in any of my jobs prior. I'd been a happy grunt, since that sounded better than being a kiss-ass. I still refuse to kiss ass; in this place, I'm being promoted on the merit of my work ethic. Imagine that.
This promotion certainly does mean I feel great about myself, but more importantly, it means money. Money coming not a moment too soon. It means more money now, more than I've made per hour in too long a time; it means money later, if and when I need to prove management skills to prospective employers. It means opportunity. I'm not talking about the opportunity to travel or buy that whatever-it-is that I "always wanted." I'm talking about the opportunity to grow up and accept the challenge of bill-paying. It's a challenge I can no longer forgo, even if I wanted to. Its breath is on my neck.
It's hot, stinky breath, too. Adulthood is a grotesque beast. So grotesque, in fact, that encountering it eventually ends in death.
A strange thing: Since I was promoted for my hard work, it stands to reason that I should keep it up and add my managerial duties on top. Makes sense, right? It does to me, anyway. With that said, my manager's evaluation of my first week as supervisor was baffling. She told me that I need to get used to delegating the hard work; in a nutshell, I need to work less to be an effective supervisor. To extend the military analogy, I must spend less time in the trenches now that I am welcome in the war room to discuss strategies.
Really.
Forgive me, sister. I spent eight years clutching a gun in these metaphorical trenches. That's a lot of un-learning I have to do. Sure, I'll get better at telling people what to do; it's something I'd had to learn not to do in the past, after all. What'll be hardest for me is getting over the idea that if I want something done right, I've got to do it myself. Let's compromise: I'll teach everyone how to do things right, and then maybe I'll feel better about telling them what to do.
I've always had a hard time with things that require an amount of faith. Delegation is no different, I suppose. But 2011 is already 3/4 of the way through, and if I'm going to continue this wagon train on through 2012, I guess I've got even more lessons to learn, right?
