Anger management

Early Monday this week, a subordinate of mine raised her voice at me in the presence of my peers, to deny a mistake that she had made.

What did I say? Nothing.

Now, don't get me wrong, I was angry and very much for giving her a huge chunk of my mind. What stopped me? Time. I had to get my props together for a photoshoot and it was going to be a busy day for me. I didn't have the luxury to stand around participating in a shouting match.

It bothered me the whole fucking day. It started with a series of very angry "How dare she?" and "Just wait, I'm going to talk to the boss about her" but subsided into wallowing pools of "Maybe she was right to yell."

It took quite a few shots of soju over lunch to calm my nerves. And that's when I found perspective and considered, "What would my dad do if he was here?"

You see, I'm a journalist to a fault. I like to complain about everything, and have adopted a rather pompous, self-righteous attitude to things. "What? You gave me ice with my coke when I said no ice? You're not going to do backflips even though I'm a regular here? I want to see your manager. The service here is appalling and I am never coming back*."

The way I saw it, if you don't stick up for yourself, no one else will. My brother, Jon, has shielded his face in shame of being seen with me. Me? I have no qualms about making a scene.

So, going back to what dad would do: he'd say "Do nothing" (to which I will get quite belligerent). Here's a story about my dad: once, when crossing the street (he was heading to the park across from our house for his evening jog) he was knocked down by a motorcyclist. The guy had been reckless (of course) and as a result my dad who was already into his 50s sustained back and leg injuries.

Not only was he not angry, he helped the motorcyclist pick his bike up and as they sat on the curb waiting for help to come, he'd check to see if the guy was okay, and asked if someone was coming to pick him up. When mom got to the scene, he shook the man's hand, told him to take care, and they parted ways.

When I got back to the office after lunch, I told myself that I'd give it a day - time enough for me to calm myself down so that I could say the right things.

Day 2 came and then Day 3. Today is Day 4. I no longer want to "give her a talking to". At first, I thought to myself, "Does this make me a coward? Shouldn't I have my say?"

And that's when I saw the light. Saying something will not change anything. An apology from her will not change the fact that 1. She had been unprofessional 2. That I don't like her very much anymore. Why should I, take time out from MY schedule, to speak to her about HER issues? Why should I spend MY time to tell her about HER mistake? Would asking her for an apology anything?

No.

And so I've let it go, and I'm letting her be. As far as I can see, if she doesn't realise what she has done, I'm not going to spend time showing them to her. I've got career-boosting work to do that'll take me places while she's sitting there, oblivious to her faults and wallowing in the pit that her mistakes have dug her into.

Granted, dad wouldn't wish ill on people. But while I may have learnt a bit of patience through him, it doesn't mean I can't still be vindictive.

-Sings- "When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, it gives you hell."



*Regretfully, I have lost my temper on more than one occasion and said this to the management, and now I can't eat at those places. :(

Abandonment issues

Dear diary,

It was too good to be true and time finally proved me right. A good worker to stay under me? How can it be? It couldn't, and so for the third time in one year, another bee has been re-delegated.

But like all the other times, I'll get over it.

Not like I have a choice.

This sucks major.

Success 5%

I can manage White Christmas with simple strumming! Feeling pretty smug right now.

Tried teaching Moobs the intro to Tears in Heaven -- all that I knew, which isn't much, but he gave up 1/4 way.

You see, not everyone's cut out to be a musician. You need resilience, passion and musiclust.

And I gots it y'all, cause I can play White Christmas, sorta!

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Was doing research on bombshells for an article and came across this book at Borders. Have only read two chapters so far which only talk about Norma Jeane's foster mum and grandmother, but already there's a great sense of tragedy; it's as if the universe conspired against her, and there was no other ending to be had.

Attempt #3

Okay, so I've abandoned Hey There Delilah because I just can't play that chord.

Also, I don't like to strum (you can tell I'm going to make for a very good ukulele musician).

Anyway, I've switched to Tears in Heaven instead and it's going well: this is based on the fact that Moobs knew what song I was trying to play based on the muffled sounds that I was actually playing.



All that 'bar' finger movement is giving my left hand cramps though. Can't practice for more than 15 minutes without feeling like I've just ran a marathon with my fingers.

Moobs is now jiggling my fat to the tune of Tears in Heaven.

I'ma gonna smack him now.

E Chord, you are my nemesis

So, RM 60 later and a new set of strings, I'm ready to go.

Get home, YouTube for a video on how to tune my Sam (yes, that's his name) and a tutorial on how to play Hey There Delilah on the uke.

First chord, E.



Okay, I'ma gonna go take a break now.