12:26 AM - 22.01.05
Recipes
"I try not to worry about the future - so I take each day
just one anxiety attack at a time." Tom Wilson
Well that fits the profile doesn't it dear diary. Sorry about the garbled posts the past few days. Between the grip "Madame la grippe" (the flu) has on me and the computer woes of both Diaryland and my PC just "wrestling the words to the paper" (courtesy of the Reverend Dr. Professor Esq)was all I could manage. I've gone back and fixed the most egregious error - like calling Professor Lupin "Professor Lupus" instead - something vaguely Freudian about that I think. Not sure though.
I was glad I was facing the wall in my current cubicle/cubbyhole this afternoon. I had put The Greatest Hits of the Animals in my Diskman - sound turned up full blast - It's the '60's man! You know Eric Burdon's voice singing "You Don't Know What It's Like (To Love Somebody)"with that instrumentation in the background was as good for what ailed me as any sanctioned, or otherwise, medication might have been. Yeah still some bouts of paranoia, but they were getting weaker as the day progressed. The singing finally zapped them completely. You see once one reaches a certain age, the neurons automatically flash psychedelic imagery when properly stimulated. Mr Burdon's voice and delivery with an electronic sitar wailing triggered a flood of endorphins that cascaded through the body. Then he started singing his version of Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire". I think I finally got the allusion and I was off giggling again. Not bad for someone sipping V8 juice, eh?
My supervisor came by shortly after 11 am today. I shwed him the next layer of strange material that now cover the flat sufaces of the desk and floor at the workstation where I've claimed "squatter's rights". I thought that "show and tell" might make things a little clearer than another attempt at just verbalizing what is concerning me. It might just be the way to go - if I can swing getting him on site and with the time to spend working with visuals. no problem getting him to see and help me determine how to handle those piles of documents. Got into the boardroom with him and my co-worker and the old tape started playing. The one where he would clearly not understand anything I said, but then would get all excited when my co-worker reiterated my comments praising his insight and ingenuity. For example, I had written the technical directions for printing the labels we have programmed to be generated for any new record the company may receive. He pointed at my co-worker and told the group meeting that he was the expert on such things. Yes, well my tech from the election had created the process and I had codified it, but both of us were ignore completely. The co-worker uses our work and is cited as the guru. There must be a Dilbert cartoon or many - about that somewhere.
When I volunteered on the "Go-Plan" - which developed into the City's Master Transportation Plan - about a decade ago, the lead city bureaucrat asked me to accompany him as a "translator" to a few public meetings. Not what you think though. We had attended several town hall meeting to gather input on the proposals being developed for the Master Plan in all quadrants of the city. He had had no difficulty understanding or responding to the questions and concerns raised by those attending. But in the "low income" areas and the first nations meetings he said he couldn't understand what people were saying and asked me to act as intervener or go-between between him and those attendees. Odd thing was they were all speaking very good Queen's English - well as good as Canadians can manage, eh? - using identical words to ask questions identical to those heard in all the other meetings. It was his perception/prejudices of and about the people in those two groupings that was the barrier to his responding with the same clarity and respect he showed citizens in other more affluent corners of the domain. In the one community his response to one query was so condescending and offensive that several people started to rise from their seats. I interjected using the same explanation that he had offered for an identical question in a meeting the evening before in one of the high rent districts. Everyone there had no trouble getting the message. Some of the residents told after during coffee that he had been to several of their meetings over the years and had always acted like that. They were pleased that someone who "spoke their Language" had been sent with him. He thanked me on the way back to his car for saving his - well you know. Too bad he just hadn't parked his arrogance at the door - he would have had no problems.
That was how the meeting today went. I was trying to explain an issue with the records but my supervisor, in his response, twice went off on a tangent that had nothing to do with what I was saying. I finally had to interupt him and ask him to listen carefully to my words. I've never had to do that in any other assignment with him except the one with the Queen of Mean.
It may be that he is wearing one of his "masks"/personae for a reason - because I know he is more than capable of getting my points - they are the same ones I've had to raise in other assignments, but it is driving me crazy trying to figure out why he is tacking the approach he is. On the surface it seems to be that Mars/Venus divide, but that's never been an issue before. Why this behaviour now? On the plus side he wasn't rude or demeaning in his comments today and he and my co-worker were quite aware that I wasn't willing to accept any other silliness from them.
At the end of the meeting my supervisor asked for some simple counts and measurements with respect to my project from me. He suggested I take the co-worker to help me. I just pointed out that I knew how to use a tape measure and that I could count as high as the task would require. Maybe he's really trying to make things easier on me and I appreciate the intent, but all that kind of "help" does is imply to any one watching that I'm not capable of doing my work without supervision and intervention or that I am too fragile to do even basic physical labour. Like to see him empty six very full litter boxes almost every night. Not hard work just stinky. I did ask for confirmation that I could lock up the laptop at the workstation where I have claimed squatters rights and he was positive about that. One step forward another sideways. Oh well. He seemed very stressed and I am sorry that whatever is going on "back at the ranch (head office)" is so difficult for him. I'm guessing if I knew all the facts I'd understand and maybe even be able to deal with his behaviour around me, but right now I need to have some sense of honesty in my relationships and that just isn't there.
I was really happy to get on the train going home as a result today. The young woman I sat beside was not happy that I'd chosen her for a seat mate - she had wanted that space for her duffle bag. she flipped her hair,squirmed and fussed all the way to the station, but I just ignored her. The train was packed and if it hadn't been me it would have been someone else. Besides the two women across from us were talking about their Eid celebrations (Muslim New Years) and the recipes they were trading were too good to miss. Yum, mixes of tangerines, strawberries and chicken. Masala and kebobs. Saffron rice with tomatoes and onions as th main ingredients, but with the unique blend of spices that make that cuisine so tasty. Talk of their parties too. They sounded as though they were having a lot of fun dancing and eating. This year the community is dnating all the proceeds to the tsunami relief fund, but each year that form of charity is directed in similar causes. Not unlike what North Americans do at Christmas. Think next trip to the grocery store I'll have to try and stock up on the foods they spoke about so I can try out some of what I learned today. Good Night dear diary.
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