The Ink-Pot and the Palette

...the one that unwinds this coil of tension between my shoulder blades?

Good god, I've discovered a new circle of hell. It exists on the 14th floor of the World's Tallest Basement. It is overseen by Norm, whose instruments of torture include Rev-Proc 2010-26 and data transfer files for the Internal Revenue Service that have to be analyzed--by a highly-paid human being (such as myself, for instance)--in detail, across rows 175 columns wide.

I was ready to tear my hair out--I mean, I was literally clutching at it. We're too slammed to take time to develop a more efficient way of getting done what needs to be done, and I suspect that Norm really likes to work this way. I don't mind detail work, and I don't mind a little drudgery, but I hate the kind of gross, slogging inefficiency baked into the system by a workaholic who needs to feel important.

My temper got the better of me around 6:00 this evening after losing my place for the fifth time in the Rev Proc 2010-26, and I said, "God! There has to be a better way of doing this!"

Norm: "I haven't found one."

Me: "Yeah, well, that doesn't mean one doesn't exist."

I'm not the world's most courteous person, but really, I try to be more contained than that. I'd just had enough. Since October 17 when I started eating 2000 calories a day, I have not been tempted to eat 3000--or 4000--until today. This evening I want to eat the world. The whole wide world, which I understand has a creamy truffle filling.

I'm giving serious consideration to a 140-calorie double shot of Laphroaig as a moderate alternative.

I spent a worthwhile hour this morning talking to a counselor about my work situation. She gave me three gems.

The Amethyst: "Norm's been given half a job and you've been given two jobs. If you weren't stressed out by that, I'd be worried about you."

I gotta tell ya, that was incredibly validating. (For one thing, it made it--ahem--crystal clear that the "hard realities of the economy" don't apply as much to Norm as to me.)

The Ruby: Me: "I'm afraid I've been given this extra job because I'm lazy and my existing work is easier than everyone else's."

She: "Is it possible that you've internalized some messages that you don't really believe? Could it be that you're efficient, clever, and just plain fast?"

Me: \o/

The Emerald: "Suit up, show up, and be entertained".

This may be the best work advice ever.

I was already suited up, so I got on my bike and showed up, and I've been trying to be entertained all day.

it's making a big difference. By focusing on what I like to do and what's fun, I've begun digging out from under the overwhelm in some material, calculable ways.

I feel so much better! Thank you, wise counselor!

lamentables was generous enough to share some excellent insights this morning about how different working styles are rewarded differently in the workplace. She's helped me see my trying work situation much more clearly.

I can't say that I love what I'm seeing, but the clarity is good. Let me see...( A little rantlist )

Waah! I want to go home and curl up with John, Tristan, and either a rainstorm or mineral hot springs...

ETA: OMFG OMFG OMFG I was just about to shut down and leave when Norm came back to our cubicle. He's still talking. Telling me what he's going to tell me, going over what he's going to do, thinking out loud at me, ignoring me saying that I'm an hour late leaving and need to go home OMFG I AM GOING TO SCREAM.

I scream... Mmmm. Ice cream...

What would be cool is if, during the training sessions where "Norm" inflicts his knowledge on me, everyone I know would email me or text me.

That way, I'd know that there's a shiny reward waiting for me at the end of the boredom. And I could at least watch my phone light up and see the little number appear on my gMail tab.

It would have helped during the 90-minute session I just survived. My attention gave out at the 45-minute mark, so there was "Norm," once again flushing perfectly good time down the toilet, neither of us accomplishing anything during the second 45 minutes.

As my attention wandered and I began asking scattershot questions, he became vaguely defensive and said several times how swamped he is and how impossible it is for him to get everything done, and how he'll be giving me this task and that task...

...followed by several minutes' discussion of this task and that task, and future things that haven't happened yet, and past things that I don't need knowledge of to do the job.

I was so edgy by the end of it that if I were slightly younger and just a wee bit less able to mind my tongue, I'd've almost certainly said a few regrettable and undeserved things to him.

As it was, I said, "I need these sessions to be shorter. I can't learn anything after 45 minutes, and half an hour would be better."

He agreed, reluctantly, so...progress, of a sort. Though it means I'll have to do this every single day instead of twice a week.