Office Horror Story
Playing around with something different today! This is the first draft of a short story about my job. Sometimes you have to mix it up, you know?
When coworkers want to talk to me in the office.
The company lured me into a trap. I know that now.
This building was burning long before I got here.
When was let go, I was grateful to have another offer on the table. It’s a great time to come onboard, they said. There’s been a lot of changes. You can help us carve a path forward.
At the time I thought I was lucky. What a coincidence that this team had an opening right when my last department was dissolved! How serendipitous!
Now I think I was easy chum. I was cut up and ready to be consumed by anyone who'd take me. HR dumped me into a pit of sales sharks.
Since my first day, I’ve been asking too many questions.
I created a list of processes that need evaluation. I took strategy meetings with higher-ups. I made a bank of key resources. I did everything I could to “hit the ground running.” I believed that I could make a difference.
Those files have since rotted, untouched and buried away. My folders are a graveyard of attempted solutions.
My efforts have yielded nothing but silence. I'm told that anyone who takes a deep dive into the process never comes out. The person who had my role before drove himself crazy looking for answers. He quit after four months.
He couldn’t handle it, they say.
I think I was hired specifically because I showed the promise of tolerance. I am a go-getter. A self-starter who thrives in fast-paced, ambiguous environments.
A lover of hyphenated descriptors.
A people-pleaser.
If anyone could ignore the flames, it would be me.
What they didn't factor in was my neediness. Without approval, I shrivel. My urge to please is completely overshadowed by my need to be praised. Without a system, how can I know I'm doing well?
The blatant dismissal of my suggestions has soured me. My bubbliness has gone flat. Around the office, I feel the disdain of coworkers who can't understand why I'm still trying so hard.
The synergy is off.
I spend my days with my hands tied to my desk, watching my soul upload to the company VPN. I am feeding the network with my presence, but no thoughts. My joy is tangled up in my Excel sheets.
I'm kept in place by an invisible thread of guilt. We are a team, they say. It’s all hands on deck.
My hands are more valuable than my ideas. I struggle to remember that I am more than ten fingers on a keyboard. My Teams photo smiles through my monitor, taunting me with a time when I was filled with purpose.
Somehow, we manage to hit our sales target over and over and over again. We bludgeon it, hoping it will stop coming back. A fight to the death, with many casualties among my coworkers. How many blows until we can be free of this torment?
Each time it gets up, bigger than the last. Next Quarter, it warns
There is an infinite loop of Quarters.
The aimlessness has sent me spiralling. My complaining knows no bounds. I obsess and bitch and try to exorcise these work demons by venting to anyone who will listen. Office talk is the only language I know.
The stress lingers under my skin. Most nights I dream about my inbox. I wake up covered in sweat, laughing at the insanity of how much I care about work. I can't survive thirty more years of this.
Every day I show up with a new resolve to fix the problem. This isn't sustainable, I tell my manager. We can't keep working like this. No one can survive this role.
The harsher my feedback, the more positively it's repeated back. You're doing great, they say. We'll figure it out. Keep thinking outside the box.
I suggest small solutions, but I'm always redirected. I get empty "great idea" emails and half-answers about someone in a far-off department who is looking into possibly doing something similar in Q3 of next year.
The juice is never worth the squeeze.
I'm left floating through the files of a company that can’t tell me which way to go. I am circling back to nowhere, trying to touch base and brushing past people like a ghost. This place is either haunted, or I’m possessed.
All work and no progress makes Jamie a dull girl.
I have strong urges to cause a scene. I fantasize about smashing boardroom windows, throwing my laptop against a wall, and tearing my clothes off in a meeting. Per my last email, nothing matters. I need to make them understand how awful it is. I need them to see.
I’ve started making snide remarks on Teams about how unhappy I am. I summon HR in conversations like I’m chanting Bloody Mary into a darkened mirror. I dare them to punish me. Go ahead, take it offline.
I’ll take all of you offline.
I am a shell of who I once was. I have to hit the nail on the head or move the needle or whatever sharp object metaphor will end this nightmare. I beg for severance. Release me before I hurt myself or someone else. Cut off my head and make it quick.
No one listens. Check out this mindfulness webinar, they say. Use your PTO. Your mental health matters.
None of the HR webinars, onboarding materials, or Business Conduct Training Modules prepared me to go insane.
Here's a question: what do you do if you feel like setting fire to the office?
A. Speak to your manager
B. Buy gasoline and matches
C. Plan a day where everyone is distracted by a Town Hall
D. Report the behaviour to HR
To make your point, the correct answer is B and C.
Like I said, the building was burning long before I got here. I just expedited the process.
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Thanks for your email!
I’m out of my mind for the foreseeable future. Please direct urgent inquiries to one of the company’s survivors.
All the best!
Jamie
Thanks for reading! I hope you liked this change of pace.
If you’re interested in reading more pieces like this, please let me know! I’m always trying to keep it fresh for my V.I.P.s.
Me.
