"I couldn't possibly fail to disagree with you less."
12 October 2006Riding the LMTFAI should point out that a friend of mine sent me this; despite a certain resemblance, personality-wise, I did not write it.
Question: I have a personality that irritates people. I like to keep to myself on the job, without constant interruptions. I have a strong work ethic and have held many jobs but hate playing office footsie with people I would rather not be bothered with. I have about a decade left of work life and would like a meaningful position before it's too late.
Answer: Ms. Mentor is not much given to sighing for what is not, but she wishes you had been born in the 18th century, when you might have gotten on as an ornamental hermit. Every English grotto back then had to have one: a robed, bearded figure who now and then emerged from his hutch to amaze guests with his visionary mumblings. Of course, ornamental hermits in effect had tenure: health care, room and board, free robes. They merely had to have theatrical sense and impeccable wisdom — which, as Ms. Mentor knows, was as rare then as it is now. But if you had it, you could make a career of flaunting it. This goes on for quite a ways, inasmuch as it deals with life in the Groves of Academe, which is similar to The Industry only in that it goes out of its way to accommodate people who in the real world would be asking you if you wanted fries with that. This is, incidentally, another way you can tell I didn't submit that question: the idea that I'd be looking for something "meaningful" for my last decade is wholly foreign to me. Not being one of the nine people on earth who have their actual Dream Jobs, what I look for is something I can put out of my mind the moment I walk out the door. Or, better yet, the moment I walk in the door. Posted at 7:33 AM to DyssynergyMeaningful is as meaningful does. Posted by: Dan at 10:50 AM on 12 October 2006I want Rove's job: Puppet-Master! Posted by: Mister Snitch! at 11:55 AM on 12 October 2006And while we're at it, I am quite weary of people who bring me a crapload of work on Friday afternoon and feign an apology for its lateness. Extenuating circumstances may have some value in a court of law, but they don't mean a thing to me. (If you run me down with a truck, I'm just as dead whether you meant it or not. The fact that people cannot grasp this is one of the banes of my existence.) |