[934] The Clench

I just need to complain.

I've spoken in the past about how the common denominator in all of your complaints is you. I never want to be so blind, insecure, or dishonest to the mere fact of my disposition or perspective in how someone or something is failing seemingly independent of my best efforts. That said, to the extent I can document, predict, and correlate what I perceive to be the failings, and see them in vastly different domains or subject matters, suggests to me that my perspective isn't so much a failure of my being as much as it is the persistent awareness of, and similar response to, the human condition.

Tangibly, what does that mean? It means when I complain that no meetings start on time, don't end on time, and don't focus on what the meeting is purported to be about, in my world, I think this demonstrates a lack of respect, focus, organization, and what I consider the bare-bones sense of accountability. Be on time, no? When you're not on time, you can have any number of excuses, perhaps occasionally reasonable, but mostly to try to mask or cover up whatever it is about you that can't make their life comport with better allocating time. Between the two of us, if only one of us can be expect to respect my time, it's going to be me.

What about when it comes to carrying out or denoting responsibilities? I was hired as a sales person. Initially, I sat in on calls, heard the general pitch to be part of an “anthology series.” First, we wanted authors to write a chapter. It was never clarified if we would pay them $1000 or expect them to pay us. Then, we wanted specifically high-dollar or million-in-revenue authors. We expected them to pay $5000. People to call were making their way to our calendars predicated on old LinkedIn copy which they wished to change. That change didn't take place for a month and a half. Stated differently, it took a month and a half for “someone” to write 10 or less lines so we could begin again email spamming people.

What are you getting for your $1000, or $5000 dollars? Another meeting! Each request for something for each author to sign to was met with the proverbial, “that makes sense, we should do that” then silence, or another meeting in which no one was tasked with creating the thing to sell that would generate any money. Did I mention that the calls we were supposed to make ranged from people who haven't been spoken to in maybe a year, extremely wealthy people which the owner has a previous relationship, shots in the dark cold emails, and people who were considered fence-sitters, but we should try to close anyway, even though the dollar amounts they might bring would be generally negligible?

So, you're presented with this choice to take initiative, call people vaguely associated with one of the categories above with an incomplete pitch, or dare to ask for something explicit, again. What happens if you take initiative? Well, they change the pitch, as is what happened in the $1000/$5000 discrepancy in which I shouldn't have left a message for a prospect about the change. Were I wise, I would have taken for granted that we would just eat the $4000 disparity and continued to pursue him. It's not that I should expect them to be clear, it's that I'm so foolish as to think it unwise to play continual balancing act for what bullshit or arbitrary things we've told to people.

Weeks later, lists, uncategorized, provided without context, are distributed. Who to call? Everyone! Well, except this one, that one, and, on you know don't do this chunk right here because...whatever the reasons. What should we tell them? Well, we refuse to answer that. These people are just random connections, not the millionaires we'd like for the anthology. An anthology the head of sales voiced is trying to dissuade the owner from pursuing anymore, by the way. What we should definitely do though is reach out to them and get them on the calendar. Why? So they can get in another meeting! So we can pass them on to the only people you really want doing sales, because you're ambivalent about whether or not I know what I'm selling.

If you put voice to any of this, you're attacking. Once you attack, the mood shifts. People aren't sharing with you that they actually just called everyone they could, and if you thought you were redundant or irrelevant before, look now. People talk out of one side of their mouth urging you to share honest feedback and to be patient, then persistently shuffle you into the background and complain about everything they've already told you about how little regard they have for your time, it just looks nicer when I say it has to do with client management.

I just quit this miserable “job.” When I put voice to my desire, I felt relaxed. Again, like every shitty job I break with, I feel better, like the right course of action has finally taken place, and like I can get back to putting my head towards things I believe in and wish to work for.

People are fundamentally insecure. I don't know of a louder or more persistent truth. From that insecurity, every level of hell vies to capture the best parts of you. The very concept of “truth” is rendered mute. The only currency is the collective narrative which bolsters the angry mob in your gut, lashing out at criticism and clapping back any suggestion that your behavior hurts more than helps. I'll invite you to think of half the country still touting QAnon and Trump conspiracies.

I feel hopeless. Not for myself, of course, but for ever making something worthwhile with the “normal,” painfully inadequate and resentful world. I'm just glad I've worked hard enough to exercise my privilege to quit. I tense up and clench my jaw when no resolution feels possible. That is, no resolution but ending the relationship. How many do I need to attempt before I stop altogether?