Worth the Wait

I’m in denial.  Snow covers the rooftops, coats the lawns and cradles on tree limbs and I’m still thinking about the motorcycle sitting in the garage and how good it’d be to take her out.  Thing is, it’s not in my garage.  It’s an hour south in a locked garage and my afternoon plans make a trip down today unlikely.  Some folks from the Detroit Chapter of the RIDE club are going after a Chilly Burger patch- they’re making a run for St. Ignace and back today.  I considered going – it’s finally sounding like a challenge I’m willing to undertake (what with the heated gloves and jacket it’d be a warmer venture) but then I remembered my afternoon appointment and realized I couldn’t make it this time.   Spring is a long way off.  A long wait.  

Priorities.  This morning’s got me reflecting on them.  I’ve got an interview today for a new job that will earn me more than I’m currently making.  Just thinking of what I could do with a little more money makes me get all wiggly and squirmy with excitement.  I could get a dual-sport and do some trail riding next season.  I could get a new blender to replace the one that broke last Spring.  I could take two trips to Deal’s Gap next year.  Or maybe just one trip there but another out west.  I could buy a Jeep.

As soon as I start thinking of the freedom those few extra dollars can give me, I remember what they cost, too.  The job will be full-time instead of part-time.  I’ll lose my Friday morning writing time which I’ve come to cherish.  I’ll lose that extra day that makes life more like play than work.   I’ll lose that extra day that boosts my weekend getaway time when I need a vacation. 

I’m reminded of my friend Dick as I ponder the pro’s and con’s of job postings.  I need only talk to him for a few minutes about a work related problem to get some clarity.  He listens calmly and patiently and then asks, “who are you working for?”  He and I haven’t talked much of work in several months but still I hear his voice in my head urging me, reminding me, “who are you working for?” 

A manager in my current post asked me this same question recently and then answered it for me.  Not surprisingly, her answer was not my own.  Her answer served to put me in my place.  I was offering suggestions about improving a redundant system and rather than listen to the merits of those ideas, she asked, “who do you work for anyway?  Aren’t you here for the clinicians?  Aren’t you here to help them do their job?”  I told her I work for the women who need our services.  I told her I work for women’s right to choose.  I told her with fire in my gut and a sharp tongue that I determine who I work for, she does not.  I don’t think she heard me.  I am not sure what to make of these kinds of power plays in the workplace.   

Who do I work for?  Thanks to Dick, I know I don’t just work for women’s health or for women’s rights or for a women-run organization.  I work for me.  I love that I have someone in my life who reminds me that the only person I have to please is me.  I have a history of acting like it’s my job to be sure everyone is taken care of:  that her feelings aren’t hurt, that he gets a second set of hands to carry the load.  The thing is, I enjoy helping people.  Sometimes it’s because helping people is the “right thing to do” though and that puts a different spin on the help.  Or it just feels good to do something for someone else.  That isn’t right, either.  That makes helping about power.  If I get to feel powerful in the helping, then I’m really helping so I can feel that power, not so that another gets what they need.

Dick didn’t tell me who I work for.  He asked me.  And he didn’t answer.  He let me find the answer in hearing my thoughts and frustrations, in listening to my desire to be happier and feel freer; he let me come to the answer that serves my life.  The satisfaction he received was in watching me find my own way.  In watching me find my own power, in regaining my footing.  I felt supported by my friend.  I felt understood. 

Many of the people I currently work with have been employed by the agency for years.  Issues around power come up daily.   Coworkers are so immersed in the culture, they don’t see it.  Or they are caught in the cycle of it and can’t see a way out of it.  I keep thinking “if I wait it out, things will get better.”  They can only get better.”  The thing is, things aren’t getting better.  I’m just getting used to them.  I’m getting used to the craziness, the unpredictability, the power plays.   In our staff meetings this is almost a mantra: “things are going to get better, just wait.”  After nearly a year with the organization and so many issues still creating barriers to patients and staff, this seems like a diversionary tactic.  Patient wait times are increasing, new technology is implemented to improve one area of the business without regard to how it impacts other areas.   Technology like voicemail and email have yet to be implemented organization-wide.  

I’m done waiting.  I’m excited to find out more about this other job I’m interviewing for.  I’m tired of taking the long way around in my work life.  I want to get equipped with the tools to do the job and then be empowered to do it.   This other organization has its priorities in order.  It has a plan.  And it recognizes the value and expertise of all the people in the organization.  This new position is exciting. 

The new office is located on the northeast side of town.  I won’t have to ride through the city to get there and back- I can ride a little further east into the country and enjoy the winding roads in Ada and north on into Belmont.  I suspect I’ll be taking the long way home on the bike quite often.  I like the direction this other company is moving in.  And I like the thought of riding along with them.  More than that, I like that I know what things are worth waiting for and what things aren’t.