GTT: Job Venting (a guest post)

The boobalicious Chibijeebs has some work woes that she doesn’t want broadcasted at her blog, so I offered up my (albeit a bit dusty from disuse of late) space to vent away. It’s all in good fun, and where good fun is involved, you know you’ll find Girl Talk Thursday. If you have a post that you’d like to write but can’t write in your own space, feel free to email me or leave a comment here or at Girl Talk Thursday. I’d be happy to feature it here, and I know the other gals at GTT would be thrilled to have you at their spaces, too.  And don’t feel like it has to be TODAY TODAY TODAY because it’s Thursday!  We’ll be reading, commenting and dishing out the girl time fun all week until our new topic next week. xoxo ~ MommyGeek

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The lovely MommyGeek (seriously: love her) has been kind enough to lend me some blog space because I’m paranoid.  Well, and because the set-up at work combined with this particular issue would make me VERY easy to identify by anyone who knows me IRL, and I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of exposure.  *ahem*

I willingly and openly admit upfront that my complaint really isn’t that big of a deal — all things considered, I have it pretty good.  But this is fresh and I’m still worrying over it and it spilled over into my personal life, so yeah.

The office is half of a very large shop on one of the owner’s property; his house and a pool house (where Grandma lives) also occupy space here.  (I guess before Rob built the shop, the office occupied space in Wade’s (owner #2) basement, so they’ve always played it close to the vest, so to speak.)

Before the end of the day Friday, Rob asked me if I would be interested in house sitting for them.  I sat there in stunned silence because I wasn’t sure just what this entailed — they DO have three kids and a dog: was it just house sitting, or was it really babysitting?  I recovered by asking when.  He told me that they were all going to Hawaii in two weeks for a week, then Grandma would be returning with the kids while Mom and Dad stayed on for an extra week.  He told me I could stay in the pool house if I felt more comfortable, and mentioned something about the hardest part being feeding the dog (even at the time I thought, if it’s just a matter of feeding the dog, I could do that before I went home/when I got here in the morning).  I told him I’d have to talk to The Man-Thing, and he assured me that it was no big deal if I couldn’t — that they’d find someone else — but that he thought I might like the “commute.”

Instantly, I was filled with dread: I can’t really give you a logical explanation, but the idea of house sitting makes me anxious to the nth degree.  I’d being staying in a strange house.  Alone.  In the dark.  I’d be sleeping in a bed not my own, when I already have “issues” sleeping in my bed.  What do I do with my clothes?  Do I bring a week’s worth?  Where do I put them?  What do I do about dinner?  Are they going to make sure the kitchen is stocked, or is that up to me?  Who looks after MY home while I’m looking after yours?  (Obviously this was before I met The Man-Thing and/or operating under the assumption that he’d be house sitting with me.)  WHY doesn’t anyone think about THAT when they ask you to house sit for them?!?  This is now the third time I’ve been asked to house sit by a boss/superior; I don’t know if they think I’m trustworthy or a push-over.  Or a trustworthy push-over.  Either way, it fills me with dread and I haven’t done it for anyone yet.  Hell, even my parents’ house gets cursory every-other-day visits when I “house sit” for them, and I lived there up until three years ago!

As I was leaving, he excitedly asked me if I wanted a tour of “where [I'd] be staying.”  I really didn’t want to, because I was all anxious and had pretty much already made up my mind to not do it, but I figured I’d humour him.  I totally felt like I was trespassing, especially considering Grandma wasn’t home at the time.  It was rather awful.

When I got home, I brought it up to The Man-Thing, all pshaw about it and stuff.  He waited until I was finished before suggesting I do it: he’d be fine for a week on his own, and besides, with Rob being the younger of the two owners, he’d likely be the one to continue the company when Wade retires, so if I do him a favour now, it might pay off down the road.  I looked at him, aghast.  First, the mere thought that this particular incident might possibly affect my future employment sent me into paroxysms of horror; and secondly, thanks for implying that I don’t think you’d survive a week without me — could you TRY to hide your excitement of a week in your underwear eating pizza, plz?

It SO wasn’t how I’d expected the conversation to go.  I expected we’d discuss either me going home after work and both of us coming back to “work” at the end of the day, or him coming out here to meet me at the end of the work day.  I certainly didn’t expect the damn-near Alone Time Happy Dance, simultaneously leaving the neurotic one (me) staying in a strange place ALL BY HERSELF.

For some reason, I couldn’t even articulate what was going through my head, other than to blast him for wanting to get rid of me (which, naturally, he didn’t take very well) and voicing shock and dismay at the thought I might lose my  job for saying no (in his “defence,” he’s currently involved in a course that is examining networking, and he figured this would just be one more way to make a “connection”).  He bristled and got defensive; I clammed up and cried.  Then?  We didn’t speak.

FOR TWO HOURS.  (Simply because we’re both horribly stubborn assholes who wait for the other one to “crack.”)

That was all resolved… blah, blah, blah.  I then had to come in on Monday and tell Rob that it wasn’t “going to work for us,” making up some BS excuse about The Man-Thing starting another course that week, and… <enter petered-off babbling here>  He told me it was no big deal, again repeating that they’d find someone else.  *phew*  Awkward and guilt-inducing (because I swear to Ceiling Cat I have the deadly combination of Catholic AND Jewish-mother guilt), but done…

…until Grandma came by with the mail Tuesday.  I guess Rob hadn’t told her that I turned them down.  She asked if I was going to be “staying over”; when I explained why I wasn’t, this look of panic overtook her face as she started worrying out loud about who they were going to get — ALL the (extended) family was going to be away/unavailable at that time.  She started talking about how she KNEW she should have waited and gone when Rob et al got home.

Oh, fuck.  Hi, Guilt!  SO not nice to see you again.  *sigh*

(I haven’t changed my mind, but I still feel ridiculously bad about it.  Oh, and I didn’t tell The Man-Thing the latest with Grandma because, well, just because.)