Ellemental

In the past several days I’ve gained a washer and dryer and I’m back up to two functioning computers.  I’d say my conspicuous consumption is on the rise.

For 7 months I’ve been taking my clothes to the VIM’s house.  While I sort of enjoy doing our laundry together, it’s a relief to not have to cart laundry baskets back and forth.  And we never really meshed our laundry philosophies.  He’s a “type of fabric” sorter, regardless of the colors, and I’m a color sorter, regardless of the fabric (unless it demands special attention).

The washer and dryer are used, but seem to both work well (other than my ignorance about the “sanitize” cycle…what the hell???).  The one thing that drives me crazy about the washer is that the lid locks down during the scary sanitize cycle and the spin cycle.  Every time a load is done I go to move the clothes to the dryer and have to wait for the lid to unlock.  I’m a little pissy about that, as my feeling is that they are MY clothes, and I want to dry them when I want to dry them.  Who is the washer to decide when to release my clothes???  I’ve actually tried to jam a butter knife into the small gap to make the washer lid release.  I think maybe it’s all a lesson in patience.

Zen Laundry.

A few days after I started my new job, I asked a co-worker to show me how to use the fax machine. The truth is, I could have figured it out myself, but I wanted to bond with this woman…I had already sensed that she had sort of a “Queen of the Office” thing going on, and I was signalling that that was fine with me. Her response to my request was, “I don’t know…I haven’t decided if I like you or not yet.”

And she was serious.

After I took a moment to pick my jaw up off the floor, I smiled and spoke a reply that would put me on the path to hell for the next six months, – “I’m sure if you take the time to get to know me you’ll find that I’m pretty cool. In the meantime, I’m sure I can figure this fax machine out myself.”

I thought it was a pretty calm response. The Queen, however, took it as a direct challenge. OTHER people may think I’m cool. OTHER people may have been won over by my friendliness, but not her. Oh no, NOT HER. For the next six months she let me know how much she didn’t like me in every imaginable passive aggressive way. Phone messages that never made it to my desk. Conversations that would be cut off mid sentence when I walked into the area. Whispered conversations to my office-mate when I was sitting 4 feet away. (My other co-workers, to their credit, never “took sides” or took any part in HateFest). “The Girls” lunches that were scheduled only on days when I wasn’t going to be there.

That sort of thing.

No, I didn’t go to my bosses about it. What was I going to say? The Queen didn’t invite me to lunch? Waaaaahhhhhhhhh! I took the high road and ignored the Queen unless I absolutely had to talk to her.

I wish I could say that I finally won her over. I even wish I could say that I finally had enough and got into a fistfight with her in the parking lot. The truth is that I did nothing. I waited. I became more anxious. I became totally unsure of myself. Although I understood what she was doing, it STILL hurt me. WHY didn’t she like me? What is wrong with me? Why am I unworthy? She pushed every fucking button I had, and some I didn’t know I had. I didn’t want to be friends with someone who acted like that (and like a whole lot of other things I didn’t even mention), yet I wanted her to like me.

The end came swiftly a few weeks ago when she was relieved of her duties. I had been so singularly, narrowly focused on how she affected me that I didn’t realize there were other issues going on as well. I spent a day or two afterward feeling bad for her (I don’t wish losing a job on anyone), and a day or two feeling guilty. But I have to admit, it didn’t take long for the clouds to part and the sun to ray down. I didn’t realize that the Queen had totally affected every single area of my work life. I’m embarrassed to admit that, since my background is in dealing with all different types of employees. But I have never, EVER in my years in the workforce had a truly toxic co-worker. The Queen was so good that half of the time I thought my anxiety and stress was because of ME and not being able to perform my job.

Now that she’s gone, I’m more relaxed, I don’t have the urge to cry every Sunday night. I’m at work early, rather than going in at the last minute. I’m getting more work done and feeling good about it. It took me a LOOOOOOOOOOONG time to get through the grieving process of leaving my last job and the Queen did not help that at all, but I think I’m finally there.
I feel guilty when I say that I don’t miss the Queen. I feel a little guilty when I bask in the luxuriousness of the new atmosphere in the office. I don’t really feel guilty at all when I think, “The queen is gone and the serfs are self-governing. And quite frankly, the serfs are doing alright.”