My new line manager was keen to show her teeth this week.
On Wednesday I had a 1-to-1 with her. The language of domination she used to me, almost a decade her senior, rattled my quills, and I have let her know this the last few days. The head of my former department is scandalised, and wonders how I am managing to carry on without chewing her head off. (Newbie linie will learn...!)
She may be two grades senior to me, but I have nine years' experience on her. She has yet to learn that I can be trusted to carry out my role without new broom micromanagement. There are others in the team who need more management than I do. She will find this out.
This morning she told me I was leaving at 4pm (having started at 8am). So I suggested to her that patient-focussed care came first, whether or not I was supposed to be leaving the office at any given time. If the phone was still ringing come 4pm, she could expect to find me in the office, dealing with the questions raised by incoming callers.
In the end, we declared it a draw. At 3.30pm, the phone started ringing off the hook. Every time I put it down, it rang again. Continuously until 4.30pm. I took messages, rang others, rang back, sent faxes and offered reassurance and comfort. Eventually, the only queries I had left dated from Thursday and I hadn't managed to resolve them in the course of the day.
Then and only then, I left the office. I went downstairs and packed a few items to bring home from my old desk drawer. The bus journey home, and the behavior I witnessed in the store while doing the week's shopping, are a whole other post, if I can be persuaded to show you the 'trailer trash'/chav side of life even the East of England has.
In the mentime, I have been home for several hours now and I am feeling the need for my bed.
Image Credit » https://pixabay.com/en/porcupines-erethizontidae-animal-957114/ by rothpetra19620