I'll Bring the Matches

About two months ago I began writing a blog post that I never finished and later deleted.

I do that some times; thoughts enter my head; I hear or think of a turn of phrase I like; someone says something that inspires me; all these things trigger the birth of a blog post. Sometimes they don't go further than a couple of lines "jotted down" in draft on Blogger, sometimes (especially if it's just a phrase) it just rattles around in my brain until it manages to fall out somewhere along the path.

That aside, about two months ago I began writing a blog post about feeling like I had just brought matches to a witch hunt. The thought appealed to me, partly because there was an uncharitable part of me that wanted the witch hunt to be successful, then there was the part of me that felt guilty for feeling like I had brought the matches to a witch hunt and part of me that just liked the phrase.

You see, for several months, I have had to put up with a useless ineffectual and disinterested co-worker (who I will refer to as Mr. Bottleneck) whose shoddy work and unreliable attendance had driven me close to wanting to either smack him up side the head or quit – neither action would be very positive or productive. So I did the only thing I could do, I complained to my Project Manager. And when she went on holidays and Mr. Bottleneck’s behaviour got worse, I complained to her stand-ins.

Then one day, I got called into the office of my PMs boss and asked about Mr. Bottleneck’s behaviour and actions to which I responded honestly and bluntly – unfortunately diplomacy is not my strong suit. I was a little alarmed to discover that Mr. Bottleneck had managed to piss of my PM’s boss (who is an ex RCMP officer and a man I would hope NEVER to piss off) and when my PM’s boss talked about Mr. Bottleneck he looked as if a vein in his neck was about to burst forth and take on a life of it’s own.

I left that meeting feeling guilty that I had been so blunt, feeling like I had brought matches to a witch hunt. But truthfully, if I brought the matches, Mr. Bottleneck had brought all the kindling and bonfire material. His actions, or inactions, or combination of both had lead to a level of lack of faith in his abilities that was hard to surmount.

Fortunately, or unfortunately – I’m honestly not sure which – he wasn’t sacked in October and his contract (which was to end at the end of December but was in the process of being extended until the end of February) was allowed to play itself out – with more absences and shoddy work and a growing sense of resentment on my part.

So I was very happy to hear that Mr. Bottleneck didn’t want to extend his contract into 2010 and that he would prefer to end it as soon as possible – not soon enough in my books, Mr. B.

So, instead of singing Christmas carols I’ve been humming “Ding! Dong! The Witch is Dead!” and see his departure as an early Christmas gift.

If you’d had more scruples Mr. B, you would have left months ago, saved me a lot of aggravation, since I was doing your job and mine for so long anyway, I would have preferred it – then I wouldn’t have bothered expending any energy expecting you to do anything and expending more energy fixing what you didn’t do correctly in the first place. I don’t like the phrase “Shit or get off the pot”, it’s a bit crass, but sometimes crass works. In my opinion, Mr. B, should have either quit when he first started hating the job (back in July, he told me as much) or just accept your responsibilities, “suck it up” (another phrase I don’t like) and just do the job you were hired to do. But instead he pissed about for six months wasting time and money in the process.

having said all that I would like to say Thank-you Mr. Bottleneck. Thank you for the opportunity you unwittingly gave me to shine as a go-to-gal that gets the job done quickly and correctly. Mr. Bottleneck, you will not be missed.