Do you ever have that moment, when you are trying to explain something to someone, and you suddenly realize that while you may understand your task well enough to complete it, you don’t really have any idea how to explain it to someone else?
Lately I am having that moment approximately every 4 minutes. Its like I’m having contractions of dumbness—and I’m terrified that they’re getting closer together. I’ve been doing this job for about two years now, and contrary to anything I’ve ever said or written about it, I do it fairly well. Certainly my bosses have never complained. But I’ve never had a burning desire to work in telecom—in fact, the only reason I work in telecom is because I DID have a burning desire not to be employed by Barnes & Asshole any longer. I’ve learned some telecom stuff, some of which is moderately interesting, and some of which isn’t. But I suppose I never fully mentally committed to this job—from the beginning I knew I’d only be here until I figured my shit out.
Well, it would appear that I’ve figured
some of my shit out, and as a result I get to quit my job. What is that opposite of that saying ‘every cloud has a silver lining’? Is there a saying like that? I need one, because quitting my job? It’s like this great big puffy cloud of happiness. But this puffy white cloud is also lined, and with something other than silver. Because the downside of quitting the job I hate am ready to leave is that I have to train my replacement. And having to train my replacement means being forced to realize that there are many things that I do here without concern for logic or explanations. I just do them. Because I am told to do them. And until now that method has worked out just fine for me.
It turns out that when explaining your daily tasks to a fresh-faced newbie in mind numbing detail, it helps a lot if you actually know those mind numbing details. Whoops. And so it is a bit like the blind leading the blind around here, only the blind person in front is trying to play it off like they’re not blind. The blind person in front is all No, he’s not a service dog! He’s just really well trained. Anyway what do you know? You’re blind.’ I’m not entirely convinced that the blind person in back is buying it.