So, you would think after several post-baccalaureate psych classes and assistantships, a few years of counseling experience, and one very costly semester in grad school for psychology back in ’03 that I would have learned a few things about impulse control. Needless to say … I am still learning.
Today though, I struck therapeutic gold. (Eureka!) It seems so rudimentary (we are talking psych 101 here folks), but I realized that if I take a deep breath and count to ten before responding to my boss, my uncontrollable urge to retort subsides substantially. I mean, I still think he’s a bumbling egomaniacal fool after all is said and done, but controlling my impulses to react will hopefully help maintain my job satisfaction level at “somewhat complacent” as opposed to “completely miserable,” as it has been for the greater part of the last month. I mean it’s tough stuff to stifle my natural inclination to correct, but in this cubicle jungle it’s survival of the fittest, and apparently the fit don’t have an opinion or point out when my boss is making a wrong or not-so-great decision.
The thing is … I have only tried this new-found impulse control method with e mails so far … Sooooooooooo, I’ll let you know if this survival technique holds up in the field. (We’ll see.)
So, you might be wondering … exactly what is it about my boss that tests my already testy impulse-control abilities? You see … one of my boss’ fave things to do is to make decisions (often ones that are counter intuitive or just down-right nonsensical) just to flex his authority. Much like most male dogs, he likes to mark his territory as often as possible, and he has just been peeing up a storm since he took his editorial throne here. I even came up with a nifty little term to describe this oft-happening phenomenon: decreemania.
Prefix: decree–to issue an authoritative order having the force of law
Suffix: mania–an irrational but irresistible motive for a belief or action
Mind you, my boss is no Captain Queeg, but he is pretty damn reckless and impetuous when it comes to instituting decisions, which brings us to the second (and best) part of his modus operandi: After “striking his gavel,” my favorite decreemaniac will usually come back 10-15 minutes later and take back what he said and then side with what you were suggesting in the first place! If he snapped at you in the process, you then generally become the oh-so-fortunate recipient of a bad joke or a long, irrelevant story (did I mention he is the slowest talker ever, pauses and all?)–talk about adding insult to injury.
Anyway, I better get used to deep breathing and counting … I mean, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em … so as to not be totally and completely miserable until you can leave ‘em; that’s what I say.
