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Performance Evaluation
I stare at the word document, trying to muster the energy to rewrite my CV again.
I should put in my latest job, the fixed-term contract that isn't going to renewed in two weeks, but...what can I say?
I was a shit employee, my being there actively cost the company money, and no amount of good cheer and positive thinking can make up for the fact I'm a clumsy fuck up?
Then there's the job before that, where I was the definition of overeducated and underemployed.
Can't believe I'm missing it.
Doing the simplest of blue collar jobs while rocking a marketable college degree shouldn't have felt so good, or paid so well. The employer shouldn't have been so sad at not having the budget to keep me there permanently.
You know it's because of the people. You were friends with your co-workers there. Here, you have two people actively gunning for you to be fired.
Except depression means having a tighter grip on reality than anyone else. There's more than a couple of psychology articles showing that people with depression are actually realist: they (we) have a better idea of the odds of succeeding in anything, and give out better measurements of situations.
I freeze for a moment.
Is that actually true? I vaguely remember someone online saying that it wasn't, that this notion was a victim of the replication crisis, and that people only believed it because they want to believe it.
...does it matter? The screw ups I do are real, the mistakes I do are real, and my being a hesitant, hemming and hawing mess when I was supposed to be groomed for a leadership position is a thing that is true.
(Except you're a newbie fresh out of college, everybody there was older and more experienced than you, and even thinking of bossing them around felt awful).
That shouldn't have mattered. I should have projected confidence. Fake it 'till you make, except I couldn't even fake it.
Your boss gave you no guidance at all, he never explained what he actually wanted out of you, and spent ninety percent of his time on business trips out of the office.
I shouldn't have needed to have my hand held. It's like he said, these three months were a test of my abilities, and how well I could perform while not under direct supervision.
Bob wanted your position, he was actively sabotaging you in not training you in how to do things: haven't you noticed he's only being friendly now, when you're in no position to threaten his career? He's envious of your college degree, and of the fact that his work experience didn't qualify him for your position!
I was the one who had to have it explained to him three times how to use and clean the same piece of simple lab equipment. I was the one who fucked up that big order for CeeTee inc., and had to have it completely redone, wasting a ton of time and money.
Margaret hates you because you managed to get a job in the same field as your degree, while her studies in Palaeobotany landed her in a dead end job a person with a good High School diploma could do as well or better than she does. That's why she keeps putting down guys with college degrees, saying they're useless and that people shouldn't get them.
I'm the one who couldn't even mix the samples she needed to analyse properly, and had to redo them again and again, holding her up and stopping her from doing her job.
There has never been a day she came to work in a good mood. She goes out of her way to be angry at you
These are all external justifications. I'm whining. I hate myself for whining. I should face facts and admit I'm just a loser.
It's my fault I'm a failure.
You were diagnosed with depression, five years ago. That is an objective fact. You only did one year of treatment and never followed it up.
I filled in a multiple answer sheet in a psychiatrist's office in Uni. I could have gotten any mental illness diagnosis I could have wanted.
It's not your fault
I should put in my latest job, the fixed-term contract that isn't going to renewed in two weeks, but...what can I say?
I was a shit employee, my being there actively cost the company money, and no amount of good cheer and positive thinking can make up for the fact I'm a clumsy fuck up?
Then there's the job before that, where I was the definition of overeducated and underemployed.
Can't believe I'm missing it.
Doing the simplest of blue collar jobs while rocking a marketable college degree shouldn't have felt so good, or paid so well. The employer shouldn't have been so sad at not having the budget to keep me there permanently.
You know it's because of the people. You were friends with your co-workers there. Here, you have two people actively gunning for you to be fired.
Except depression means having a tighter grip on reality than anyone else. There's more than a couple of psychology articles showing that people with depression are actually realist: they (we) have a better idea of the odds of succeeding in anything, and give out better measurements of situations.
I freeze for a moment.
Is that actually true? I vaguely remember someone online saying that it wasn't, that this notion was a victim of the replication crisis, and that people only believed it because they want to believe it.
...does it matter? The screw ups I do are real, the mistakes I do are real, and my being a hesitant, hemming and hawing mess when I was supposed to be groomed for a leadership position is a thing that is true.
(Except you're a newbie fresh out of college, everybody there was older and more experienced than you, and even thinking of bossing them around felt awful).
That shouldn't have mattered. I should have projected confidence. Fake it 'till you make, except I couldn't even fake it.
Your boss gave you no guidance at all, he never explained what he actually wanted out of you, and spent ninety percent of his time on business trips out of the office.
I shouldn't have needed to have my hand held. It's like he said, these three months were a test of my abilities, and how well I could perform while not under direct supervision.
Bob wanted your position, he was actively sabotaging you in not training you in how to do things: haven't you noticed he's only being friendly now, when you're in no position to threaten his career? He's envious of your college degree, and of the fact that his work experience didn't qualify him for your position!
I was the one who had to have it explained to him three times how to use and clean the same piece of simple lab equipment. I was the one who fucked up that big order for CeeTee inc., and had to have it completely redone, wasting a ton of time and money.
Margaret hates you because you managed to get a job in the same field as your degree, while her studies in Palaeobotany landed her in a dead end job a person with a good High School diploma could do as well or better than she does. That's why she keeps putting down guys with college degrees, saying they're useless and that people shouldn't get them.
I'm the one who couldn't even mix the samples she needed to analyse properly, and had to redo them again and again, holding her up and stopping her from doing her job.
There has never been a day she came to work in a good mood. She goes out of her way to be angry at you
These are all external justifications. I'm whining. I hate myself for whining. I should face facts and admit I'm just a loser.
It's my fault I'm a failure.
You were diagnosed with depression, five years ago. That is an objective fact. You only did one year of treatment and never followed it up.
I filled in a multiple answer sheet in a psychiatrist's office in Uni. I could have gotten any mental illness diagnosis I could have wanted.
This feels less like a story and more like someone venting.
I'm not saying this is the author venting, because it very well could not be the author's own personal experience. But it's just the narrator venting and then the story sort of just ends. There's not much plot, just infodumps about what's happened so far.
I relate to the stuff here, but it's not really a story.
I'm not saying this is the author venting, because it very well could not be the author's own personal experience. But it's just the narrator venting and then the story sort of just ends. There's not much plot, just infodumps about what's happened so far.
I relate to the stuff here, but it's not really a story.
Naval gazing! Not that that's a terrible thing per se (and I can certainly empathize with the emotions on display here), but yeah. I will say it fits the prompt well, but it also falls victim to the prompt in that an endless struggle is actually hella unsatisfying for the reader.
>>FrontSevens
>>AndrewRogue
Front and Andrew seem to have beaten me to it again. They've already written exactly what I was thinking.
>>AndrewRogue
Front and Andrew seem to have beaten me to it again. They've already written exactly what I was thinking.
Good writing, boring story. I dislike reading about work. Especially when it's venting about work or lack of.
2/10
2/10
As one of the "realists" you describe, hang in there, author. If you were just trying to convey a personality type, you did well. And if you were only venting, I hope it helped.
I can partly relate to the character you’re describing. Some of the elements you lay out actually I could write down myself, like the impression of having squandered my engineering degree and the diffuse lack of self-confidence which pervades this otherwise navel-grazing story.
Otherwise, I have to agree with all that has been written about it up to now. It feels more like a cathartic binge than a true story.
Otherwise, I have to agree with all that has been written about it up to now. It feels more like a cathartic binge than a true story.