Work is Not A Family Vision
I had a lengthy one on one with my manager on Tuesday, on the last day of March. He won’t stop talking to me about my departure — he simply will not let it go.
But lately he’s introduced a new and disturbing element to our conversations: Fake blood ties.
We’re just one big extended family here. Losing you is like losing a brother.
<Oh please. Oh jesus please no. Is this really happening? Pinch yourself to check, LAF.>
Because families look out and care for one another and that’s how I feel our relationship was. I rub your back you rub mine.
<Seriously, no discussion of physical contact, sir, that’s totally inappropriate and a violation of HR policies. Don’t make me pick up the phone. I swear I will. Don’t test me.>
I felt like if you stayed you would have eventually filled my shoes, you would make a great leader.
<KMN, noooooo, nooooo, make it stop, please oh god>
And so on. I ended the meeting after a while by faking a call to my cell phone that I really had to take. It was an important call from my talking hamster or something.
On the way out of his office, all I could think was: If we are, in fact, a family, this will be the first time in history that someone retired in order to spend less time with them — the stock reason people normally give for retiring is to hang out with the brood 24/7. You know: I’m hanging it up so I can play catch with my son, blah blah.
Me? Well, let’s say I’m looking forward to not seeing these people again. Most of them, anyway. And this particular guy — my manager — Definitely. Never. Again.
Repeat after me: Coworkers are not family. Management is not family.
Work is not my family.