Work is the Devil


I am probably about three nosebleeds away from quitting my job, I feel that stressed. This week I’ve been in tears on at least three occasions just thinking about having to make the journey to work. I can’t sleep, I can barely crack a smile. Mrs Gripes has a semi-constant look of consternation. (I’ve been getting the shakes when talking about my work… not a good sign). Things are grim at Gripes Mansions.

Part of my job involves working with a group of “vulnerable” students, many of whom have issues that touch a little too closely on those that I have had to deal with myself. This has created more than a few problems for me, making me rake over my own past, sift through the wreckage and salvage something positive from it all (and the positive that has been salvaged? – at least it’s all in the past. Oh, marvellous…)

Another part of my job involves working with people who are “learning resistant”. Joyous, I’m sure you’ll agree. I get very little support in this – the college approach to teaching and learning is probably the least “teamly” I’ve ever encountered- and yet am expected to “meet team targets” – if I’d ever been told what they were, I might be able to comply, but communication isn’t an institutional strength.

And then there’s my line manager. The woman is without a doubt the most devious bully I have ever met. She is a mean spirited, petty, mendacious, vicious, gossiping harridan (and those are good points…) currently she has set her vitriolic sights on me. Everyone gets a turn; it is my misfortune to be the current quarry. Her favoured modus operandi is to be very selective about the passing-on of vital information – then disproportionately crowing and reprimanding in turn when things go wrong. This week she changed both the staffing and timetabling of an event less than half an hour before it was due to happen. Naturally, things went wrong. Apparently, that things didn’t go smoothly is my fault…

On top of the usual pains and displeasures of teaching (and of being at the bottom of the food chain when it comes to decision making…) this has all served to make me feel lower than a slug’s slidy bits. Like I said, I am seriously thinking of quitting – or at least of looking for a very different job.

Any offers?

2 comments:

Fuzzy said...

As you are taller than me, can you be my top shelf things getter? I will pay well and the fringe benefits are wonderful.

Or I could just give you cyber hug and hope you can find the balls to bin that job and get another one that deserves your endless talents. No job is worth trading your precious happiness for buddy.

c'lam said...

if its making you that miserable, then start looking today! get the scotsman.

and start thinking of a sneaky plan to get back at Ms Mendacity