The
Shortcomings of Others
(With
thanks to Stanislaw Lem)
(Clerking 15)
There
is no clerk so wonderful, so peaceful and perfect and together, that
they do not, at some point, complain about one (or more, many, many
more) of their co-workers. Also, perhaps far more notably, there is
no clerk so bad, so incompetent, so irresponsible, lazy, daft,
ignorant, confused or downright catatonic that they do not find fault
with, at some point, their co-workers. I myself can go make an
espresso, loiter reading the jacket of a book (pro-tip: you can judge
a book by its cover!), exchange commentaries with a passing
colleague, stare blindly into space for awhile, check the clock,
consider lunch, and then pick up a book with the vague idea of maybe
doing something work-like with it, eventually, maybe, only to spot a
co-worker off to my left idling. Maybe they are in a conversation
about their new shoes, perhaps they are leafing through a magazine,
they could even mysteriously be peering at a computer screen with
the intent look of someone who has mysteriously invented some fake
work, and I feel a sudden flash of outrage. Why do they get all this
free time? Why is their work-life full of luxuries and relaxation
while I am forced to toil away on my unfair share of burdens?
Bitterly I toss the book I am holding onto the machine and stew. I go
over to a reliable co-worker to grumble. They are nonplussed, but
wait patiently for me to finish before launching into a tirade about
their issues with a different co-worker. Invariably their issues
hardly sound to me like anything to get all worked up about, but I do
my best to commiserate, knowing from experience that one day I'll
probably feel the same way about that person they're complaining
about. And so it goes around.
The
more I like a co-worker, the more basic respect I have for their
abilities and contributions, the more room I have for their foibles.
But I think even if I could hop into the library's time travel pod
and dial back in time 8 hours to work with the person deserving of
the very greatest quantities of indulgence, namely myself, I would,
in the right situation, get pretty irritated.
“How
many coffee breaks does he have to take?” I might fume to myself
about my earlier self, conveniently forgetting that I am energized
and focused because that was me taking all those lovely
coffee breaks. And my old self perhaps, looking at my future self,
would surely stew over how my future self was taking it easy while I
was working like a dog.
“Hey!”
My old self says to my future self “Help me get all these holds
processed. There's a ton of them and you're not even doing anything!”
To
which my future self replies in outrage “I worked like a dog all
morning on those holds with no one to help me! The future version of
myself just sat here checking his email the whole time!”
“Well
that's you now!” My old self complains bitterly.
“Well
I've earned it!” My newer self says petulantly, turning back to the
emails that are from eight hours in the past and so have already been
read three times. Sadly I also have to delete spam I already deleted
in the past. This makes me tired. I need an espresso but my old self
is using my espresso machine again! The ingratitude!
So
what am I trying to say here about co-workers? Am I saying one should
try hard to look at the full context of things before casting stones
about? Am I trying to say one should not indulge the little
irritations because they are about us rather than about that person
out there? Am I trying to say that it is hopeless to complain about
your co-workers because no one ever seems to commiserate at a
sufficient level? Or how about I am saying judge not lest ye be
judged?
No,
sensible as these all may be, I don't want to say any of them. And I
wont.
I
will say this:
Everyone
is useless and shiftless at their job sometimes. Everyone. But see
that person over there? The one staring intently at the computer
screen that basically has nothing on it? That person is just
unbelievable. And I'm gonna end up having to do all that work there.
I mean, what are they even looking at? Nothing!
It
all makes me so tired. I need a break. I think I better go have an
espresso.
I love this one. What is name of the story it is like by Law?
ReplyDeleteSo glad you love it. It is conceptually borrowed (er, swiped? reworked? Homaged? something...) from Stanislaw Lem's story in "The Star Diaries" It is one of the first stories there I think, but I am not sure since our Library no longer owns it, which is a story for another blogpost. Info grabbed from wikipedia follows:
ReplyDeleteCollection of short fiction dealing with the voyages of Ijon Tichy. Translated into English and expanded as The Star Diaries (1976, translated by Michael Kandel), later published in 2 volumes as Memoirs of a Space Traveller (1982, second volume translated by Joel Stern).
"...our Library no longer owns it..." is exactly why I do a lot of my borrowing from HCL. They seem to have everything, and they are on my two favorite bus lines.
ReplyDeleteThough it might be fun to get loyally defensive, I speak for all libraries and so cannot fault you. HCL has the advantage of being gigantic relative to other metro systems so even though in my wanderings I see them making what I take to be the same sort of mistakes as us a lot, 41 (or suchlike) branches and the accompanying budget covers a lot of sins. Strangely though, when I dig deep I have to be saved by mnlink, which allows me to get books from anywhere in the state, and then I am saved most often by the U libraries and sometimes somewhere sort of random. Lately I have been looking into the curating of the older collections in our local libraries and I am alarmed by its lack of vision and personality, which is well expressed by our not having things like The Star Diaries or Night Watch or other truly great things we used to have.
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