Friday, February 03, 2006

Et tu?

Have you ever discovered that co-workers are talking about you behind your back?

What about co-workers you trusted?

Have they talked about the brand of clothes you wear? the state of your office? how about your work ethic?

Granted, these things happen in any workplace, let alone a good-sized law office.

Nothing like putting in 60- to 70-hour weeks . . . only to have a dozen "nine-to-four-o'-clockers" question your work ethic. Or to have them grouse about the fact that you may have an old orange on your desk amid seemingly-random stacks of papers and files. Hey--it's my desk, my orange, and I know where everything is, so leave it alone.

It's an environmentally-friendly paperweight.

Nothing like slaving away for a pittance to pay back school loans (at the expense of food for your wife and children) . . . only to have your fashion sense questioned or your dietary choices discussed.

Forgive me for not going with the Armani.

Or the fancy take-out/sit-down meals.

I happen to like my wardrobe. And my left-overs.

And so long as the work is done, who are you people to complain or watch my clock?

  • Never mind that these people are FAR from perfection themselves . . . although professing to be "perfect" Christians, they seem to find the motes and miss the beams quite regularly.
  • Never mind that your focus in life is: first, family/God; second, the firm's success.
  • Never mind that they put in their 35 hours and go home whistling, with never a look back or a question about whether their work is completed.
  • Never mind that it is your career, your malpractice insurance, your neck on the line and simply their "job"--one they could (and do) master with only a GED under their belt, and one that could likely be done by a trained monkey.
  • Never mind all that; we just have to point and pick, point and pick . . . with no provocation at all.

The bright side? They have no idea at all that I know about their petty little feelings and conversations.

I don't get mad.

You know the rest. . . .

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