Am I just disposed to a malcontent?�

2003-01-27

During the last two weekends I haven't left the house. Haven't set one foot beyond the edge of the curb. My very favorite kind of weekend. Thanks to my most beloved for doing the things that allow me to have that kind of weekend.

The new computer is up and running. Typing on it now. Mmmm. New electronic toy-creative space. Thank all the holies that spouse can build what I actually want and need instead of having to buy what corporate America thinks I should have.

I totally hate my new job. I don't hate the work. Work isn't really something I can hate. I hate the fact that there is no room for me as a person. I'm afraid to be myself. I'm afraid to bring in the little bag with aspirin, bandages and safety pins. I'm afraid to call my Mom. On my phone. On my time. All five minutes of it. I don't feel secure; not that I should after three weeks. Mostly, I just feel there's no real room for me to have a personality. There's only room for the owner's personality. She overides, oversees and overdoes everything. I'm used to desk space, computer space, being somewhat personal. Not your own, but not community property either. The boss moves from desk to desk, computer to computer as if they were all hers.

Of course, they are all hers in the literal sense. But I don't think she has any idea that the people that work for her might need some personal space. How could they? It all belongs to her. I've never worked under those conditions before. It makes me feel cramped, crowded and invaded all at once. There is no personal me while I'm at work. I'm starting to look fondly back at working for the coporate world. At least the rules were consistent. While 'Rule by Whim' did happen, it wasn't the order of the day.

Am I just disposed to a malcontent?

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