If there’s one lesson I’ve learned…it’s that all offices are universally the same. Oh sure, you can jump from job to job with the frequency of a cheap ham radio, but only the faces change, not the environment. Each office has a leader, bully, workaholic, clown, slacker, etc. (read my blog “Corporate Cadavers”).
Recently, I engaged in a friendly, yet heated, exchange with a “boss/colleague” about the negative impact the office Slacker's behaviour was having on the team. I took away from this conversation that only those directly, not indirectly, affected have recourse; reminiscient of the DADT days of the Clinton Administration (“don’t ask, don’t tell”).
But I strongly disagree with this way of thinking. Like schoolyard bullying, just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not happening. I believe the health and well-being of a team is collectively our responsibility. If you know it’s happening, you owe it to your team to confront it, and that includes me. I’ve tried canvassing the slacker directly but was only met with bewilderment (and defensive stories of perceived confrontations at previous jobs). I’ve tried broaching the subject with my manager (albeit in a round-about way), but was also met with bewilderment.
My solution? I ran to my local newstand and picked up the latest issue of National Enquirer. Like rolling the dice, I decided to throw caution to the wind and take a gamble on my horoscope.
Perhaps my horoscope is right? It’s not a shared expectation but rather my expectation of the slacker situation, therefore my burden to bear. So if nobody else cares, and it's evident the Slacker doesn’t, why the hell should I? Moving forward, the subject is off-limits. The Slacker Cafe is officially closed for business.
Okay, so now that I've solved that dilemma, I just need to figure out what big purchase I’ll be making!
Editor’s Comment: The “big purchase” was a new dishwasher!
July 2, 2016
