The job is high pressure. Sure. Most jobs can be. It's not like I'm working in the ER or directing airplanes in, but it's not bowl-glazing (sorry for the "Sex and the City" reference).
And when I get stressed, I get vocal. Sometimes loud. Almost always, red in the face. Things come out of my mouth. Ask any of my co-workers who have been in strategy meetings with me. Unfortunately, most times directors are in the meetings with us, as well. And when I get rattled, I have the annoying habit of referring to myself in third person (and everybody hates that). "Well, I'll tell you what The Queer would do..." followed by a steamed, uncontrolled rant.
I have been able to pull it in a little, through advice and help from mentors. My co-workers still laugh about my first year on this job. I was a red-faced, angry wreck. And then, my poor partner would have to listened to most of the same crap at the end of my work-day. He would sit placidly and nod as I spewed the daily venom. Poor guy.
Then I decided (quite firmly) to leave the office at the office. It has made all the difference in the world.
My mouth has gotten me in quite a few tight spots over the years. When I was younger, it was mostly due to naiveté , instead of anger.
- Like the time my sister, my cousin and I were playing near the front porch of my cousin's grandfather's house:
- Like the time my best friend moved into his first apartment.
- Like the time a close friend of my then soon-to-be ex-wife invited me out to meet her downtown.
From the above examples, you can see that I went to the hard-knock school of learning to keep the mouth closed when one is uncertain or clueless how one's audience will react. Now I guess I'll just foot the tuition for the degree in mouth-control during bouts of anger.
No comments:
Post a Comment