Why Being A Jerk At Work Is Not Cool.

Are you a jerk at work?
Are you a turd burger that doesn't let people merge in traffic?
Do you push in in front of people in lines?

If so, I implore you to stop it right now.

No one likes a jerk. No one says, wow, I really look up to that jerk. No. No one.
I read an article in Sunday Life a few weeks ago about whether jerks get ahead at work.
My outtake from that - no. They get what they want, but they don't garner respect, no one wants to work with an a$$hole. I know I don't, and I have managed to work with quite a few since beginning my working career. And is the stress of being an ass really worth  it?

Take letting people in in lines of traffic. I think it's more stressful to be an ass and not let people merge, than it is to spread some cheer and welcome someone into the traffic - because being a car length in front of someone is not doing anyone any good. It's not getting you to your destination that much faster, is it? So wave people ahead. Do it. Think of it as your Christmas gift to the punters.

And pushing in in front of people in lines. So. Not. Cool. I stood patiently in line on Monday, and not one but TWO elderly women edged me out of the way so they could take my turn. Seriously? I wasn't about to push them over, but really ladies? I was waiting there patiently, and I let them go - whatevs, but next time you come out in the Christmas peak of shopping, get in line. Unless of course I usher you in front of me, then by all means.

The crux of my argument - no one likes a jerk, and being a jerk is not fun for anyone, including the jerk. So stop being a jerk.


image via here

Tiny Troubles

If you think you had a bad day, spare a thought for weary old me. I fought a brave fight, but I might as well have been slaying dragons and conquering ticking crocodiles. Tiny got me again with smoke and mirrors. I trusted that small child of mine, and popped her in to bed, blindly, naively so. For ages she sang and sang, and my goodness, that girl continued to sing.

She sang her little heart out for over an hour. And that's when my brain finally twigged. I went into that small child of mine's bedroom to discover she had de-nappied herself. She'd damn well de-nappied herself and spread a distasteful spread through her bedding.

I quickly got her out of there. Macgyver would have been proud. I got her out of there quick smart, de-pooped her, deposited her on the couch with her big bro, stripped the bed, changed the bed (second time today) and put her back into bed.

She continued to sing. And then finally slept.

Damn me forgetting the fool-proof onesie. But it's not just any onesie. It's the crotch-popping onesie, because she can't pop it. Beware the sleep deprived, naive mamas of the world. Small children around the world are quietly removing their nappies, singing their sweet songs, and that is when trouble hits.

Photo above is totally unrelated, of Tiny pushing a tiny trolley at Bunnings. Thrills do come cheap in our family.

So I Look Tired. So Sue Me.

Yesterday I was in the city racing to a meeting. I walked through some shopping centre as a short cut, and this promotions guy called out to me.

I called back and said 'Sorry, I'm on my way to a meeting.' I continued walking away.

The promotions guy then called out again and said in a very thick, very Italian accent, 'Can I ask you something?'

I stopped, but was still inching myself backwards. I'd told him I was on my way somewhere, surely he wasn't still trying to get me to buy the beauty products that he was obviously selling. 'Yep, but I'm on my way to a meeting.'

'Oh look, don't take this the wrong way. Please don't take this the wrong way.'

I just looked at him a bit peeved. Dude I am on my way to a meeting and you're worried about offending me? And you're making me stop, when it's clear I am fanging it elsewhere??

And again, 'Please don't take this the wrong way, but are you, don't take this the wrong way. Are you using anything on your eyes?'

I turned and walked off 'No, and I'm on my way to a meeting.'

Men and cosmetic sales. Does it mix? And men with no sense of how to pose a question elegantly.

I walked away to that meeting feeling like poop. AND trying to steal glances at myself in shop windows to see if I looked ok.

So what if I look tired? I have two small children. I have a husband. I try and keep the house tidy, and if not tidy, at least clean. And I work. Of course I look freaking tired. I'm allowed to look tired. I'm not afraid to look tired.

And did he think that I was so insecure that I was going to ditch my meeting to buy up on his C-grade skin care so I looked less tired? More likely I'd ring up and complain that this guy needs some serious customer training.

Matt always thinks mamas look so nice because they have that gentle, tired look to them. I like to think I have that look too. Tired. Gentle. Busy. And happy.

So this is me. In all my tired glory. Take that promo-man. SHAZAM!