Thursday, April 18, 2013
Don't Pull a Joe
Okay, so, I've got this co-worker - let's call him "Joe". And Joe is ... prone to panic. If the slightest hint of a possible problem wafts down the pike, Joe goes into full-on freak-out.
It's gotten so I postpone telling him about things like schedule changes or policy updates or ... anything that could possibly be upsetting to his equilibrium, because what other people shrug off, Joe turns into Chernobyl in his mind.
Cut to the other morning, when I'm reconciling our company bank accounts. As I'm running the numbers, I realize that one of the accounts appears to be about three hundred bucks short.
As my heart starts to beat a little faster, I tell myself, "Don't pull a Joe."
As I start thinking about how I'm gonna have to pull all of my spreadsheets together and email them to our bank contact and get with her to figure out where that money went and holy sh*t they charge a lot of money for that and the boss is gonna be PISSED, I think, "Don't go all Joe on me, here. Calm down."
And as I start to double check the numbers, and think about how the next step will be to check the spreadsheet formulas, because everything balanced out JUST FINE last month, dammit, I'm thinking, "You know how you hate it when Joe does this. It's just an error, that's all. You're going to find it. Don't be Joe."
And then, five minutes later, as I find the error and correct it and TA-DA everything is fine with the world, I'm all, like, "SEE? I TOLD you not to pull a Joe."
And as I was thinking about it, about how I almost panicked, I thought how strange it was that money is the only thing that can elicit that kind of response in me. Whether it's mine or the company's, a money error is really the only thing that can push my freak-out button. But then I realized that it's not true. You know what else will do that to me? A toothache.
Because of my ongoing jaw problems, I never know if a toothache is just a ... toothache, or the start of months of root-canals and consults and agonizing pain. I mean, I could have an ELBOW or something that felt like it was about to fall off, and I'd just shrug, take a couple of aspirin, and wait it out. But a toothache?
As soon as a tooth starts to twinge, the thinking goes, "Oh my GOD I am NOT having another root canal I will let them PULL the damn tooth first I cannot AFFORD any more dental work" ... oops, I guess that circles right back to money again, doesn't it?
But at least I have Joe to bring me back to earth. Screw that "Keep Calm and Carry On" sh*t. I'm gonna embroider "Don't Pull a Joe" on a pillow.
How about you? Anything that pulls your panic chain?
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9 comments:
Money has never panicked me, and I have been so poor that I had to wear straw sandals all one summer because I had no other shoes, and in the winter the same sandals inside rubber boots, and one winter I could afford only one meal a day - the $.80 blue plate special at the diner. There was no room for panic then, and now I now that no matter what happens, it could be worse.
So I thought and thought, and the only times in the past that I've dome the "OMG OMG OMG!" bit is when I forgot about something on my daughter's schedule, and left her stranded (when she was young and dependant on me).
Future possible panic - probably some situation where I can't get food because it's just not available. We came close to that with hurricane Sandy, when we couldn't get out of the neighborhood for a few days.
Sigh - "know", not "now", and "done", not "dome".
Plus, they can take stuff away from me if I screw up finances, but they can't actually hurt ME. No more debtor's prisons.
Sorry, Silk...but there are debtors' prisons again. And it sucks just as much now as it did in the 18th century. http://www.aclu.org/blog/tag/debtors-prisons
- bridgett
What was on the $.80 Blue Plate special at the diner?...........Ginny (I'm to the point where....if SOMEONE ELSE did the cooking, I'm all for it.)
Any threat to my job or my (woeful) financial situation puts me in a tail spin. Like right now.
I am a hypochondriac so a hangnail can pretty much send me over the edge.
~~Silk, forgive me, but I'm picturing you slapping a hand to your forehead going, "Oh my God, I forgot the KID!", and it's cracking me up. My mom left me in a grocery store once. She got all the way home before she realized she was missing something.
And it sucks that you were that poor.
Bridgett, that is one scary article.
Ginny, I hear ya on the cooking.
Becs, hang in there. I'd tell you, "Don't pull a Joe", but you'd probably kill me.
And fmcetc., you know what drives me crazy? SLIVERS. Arrggggggh.
Response to Ginny (James P.) - that diner with the $.80 blue plate special was in Gettysburg, Pa., in 1967. That's when a teacher's starting salary was $4,500/yr., and a new car cost just a hair over $2,000. So adjusting for inflation, that would be about $6-7 blue plate today, stuff like hot roast beef sandwich, or meatloaf, or leg, etc., with sides of mashed potatoes, vegetable-of-the-day, slaw, and tea. I always took half of it home for the next day's lunch.
$7 a day for food seems like a lot, so why not buy groceries and cook for myself? Because I had no working stove, no cooking implements, and no cabinets stocked with condiments - the startup package.
(I was pregnant at the time, so no one would hire me, husband was in army in Germany, the army sent me $125 per month, and that's what I lived on.)
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