16 January 2008
8 go, girl, go
when i was waiting tables in starkville, good old john miller emphasized to us the importance of "moving with a sense of urgency." this didn't necessarily mean you had to be doing anything important. just that you sure as hell better look like you were.
this sense of urgency served to cover a multitude of sins. i never told people my name, lest they hunt me down with problems. rather, i would dump their food on the table and run- with a sense of urgency- so i was always praised. because everything i did looked so urgent, people assumed i was working nonstop to secure french fries and burgers for them and their compatriots. through this veil of urgency, i looked like the great worker i never was.
i've come to realize that this- the sense of urgency- was maybe a very very bad thing in the long-run. i am a tightly-wound, impatient, judgmental crazy person. throw in a sense of urgency and you get total madness.
because i still do this. i still have the sense of urgency and operate as though everything were life and death. it's just that now it's not so much a matter of getting people their french fries as producing accurate proformas with lightening speed and mail-merging spreadsheets onto perfectly aligned avery 5691s.
hence, i find myself storming the ten feet to and from the copier as though earthshattering events might unfold in the tiny interim in which i am away from my desk. logically, i know they won't, but still... they might.
somehow this whole way of working seemed perfectly normal. i'd never considered any alternatives until yesterday, when i went hurtling through the hallways of the other tower and ran right smack into the old man, who was leisurely walking along with nary a care in the world.
he looked at me, my hair half-secured into a noncommital ponytail, my arms piled with multi-colored file folders, my whole self swaying precariously atop boots not constructed for abrupt stops. he, this seventy-nine year old man, looked at me and said, kid, you better slow down or you'll give yourself a heart-attack.
we sat, we talked, we reviewed, we regrouped.
his parting words? okay, me-dahlin. GO GO GO, baby!!! RUN LIKE HELL or there'll be hell to pay!!!