Ah, my favorite: work-related rage

Dear co-workers,

Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were all suddenly experts at my job. I guess I’ll just step aside and let you all take over, seeing as you know so much about grammar now. Did it come to you in a dream? Because just earlier this week, some of you couldn’t write a parallel comparison to save your lives. It’s amazing how enlightenment can come on so quickly! I’m happy for you.

Except that you’re full of shit.

Love,
The Anger Ball

If I could, I would send this letter on fancy paper to some of my co-workers. Some of them think that just because they spent time in college helping edit their friends’ essays, they’re experts in the rules of grammar. Then, they write or edit a story and can’t seem to string a sentence together without changing the tense or making it otherwise incomprehensible. So I fix it, as is my job, and then have to deal with a thousand questions on why I changed something. I have to defend every fucking change I make, even though THIS IS MY JOB AND WHAT I WAS HIRED TO DO. But you know what? I’m not perfect. So when I need help, I ask my boss, who has much more experience than me. So it’s not like I just change these things on a whim: there is always a reason. The reason being that the writing fucking blows.

I just don’t understand when it became okay to question how someone else does their job AT EVERY TURN. And these people are not my bosses. Bosses are allowed to talk to you about the quality of your work or the reasoning behind what you chose to do. People who are on the same rung as you, even if their job is different, need to shut the hell up and keep to themselves. Breaking news: If you wanted my job, you should have applied for it when it was vacant. Instead, you have another job. And I’m not constantly harassing you about what YOU’RE doing. If you have any serious concerns, bring them up to my bosses, who can then talk to me about it.

Because in the end, many of my co-workers know shit all about what I do and just look like dumbasses when they then try to explain why they don’t agree with what I did. Oh, you don’t agree with universally accepted grammar rules? That’s not my fucking problem.

Not to mention that many of the people I work with seem to have terrible reading comprehension. I will send out a sheet of examples of a given grammar principle, to try and stop myself from having an aneurysm of rage every week when I have to make THE SAME FUCKING CORRECTIONS, and my co-workers suddenly become EXPERTS on this fucking topic, sending me e-mails about how they would word some of these examples differently. Often, their “better” examples destroy the grammar principle my original example was representing. OH YES, THAT’S SO MUCH BETTER NOW. THANKS FOR MISSING THE WHOLE FUCKING POINT.

It astounds me how this happens EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. Without fail. No matter the topic, or that I consulted my expert boss on it, or that the deadline already passed. I don’t pretend to know my co-workers’ jobs better than they do, so why is okay for them to fucking pretend they know mine better?

I know the examples in this rant are very job specific, but I’m sure this overall experience isn’t something I go through alone. I feel that in every job, there is at least ONE person who likes to think themselves an expert at everyone else’s job. Usually there is more than one. People don’t like to admit when they’re ignorant about something. But the fact is, we’re all mostly ignorant. Most of us will never be true experts in ANYTHING, and some of us might become experts in ONE thing. Even though this is the case, most people hate to admit when they don’t know something, and to counteract their feeling of inadequacy, they have to constantly correct people or offer their opinion on matters about which they know nothing. And after dealing with it for four years—years in which I have been IMPROVING AT WHAT I DO—I am at my fucking wit’s end. So this rant just had to go here, for the sake of my sanity. Which, I suppose, is really the reason this blog exists. To save my sanity.

Anyway, the day that I move on to a new job, I might just mail a variation of the letter I wrote out above. It sure would make me feel a hell of a lot better about all this bullshit.

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