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Saturday, August 30, 2008

Ensigns of Command

I can't bark. Oh, everyone I'm in charge of likes me; loves hanging out with me at lunch and we joke a lot. But when it comes to cracking the whip... I'm no commander Riker. And I get walked on. It happened at TOGO's, Daddy Mac's and it has happened here.
Dylan and Brooke will do whatever I ask. But the others decide only to work when they want to work. I've come to the conclusion that I have the wrong idea about command. You can't be friends with subordinates.
I work harder for people I like. Which in the long run means I work 49 gazillion times harder than is otherwise called for. And I think most people would. I have a Sesame Street concept of cooperation that is not shared with the uneducated masses. And thus I get stuck with all the work. And a lot of resentment. As I said to Ron today, "I'm about ready to go all Chernobyl on people."
"Keep in mind we don't have radiation suits." He said with a smile. I took it to be reassuring. So in turn, I reassured him that I would strengthen the containment field to reduce the collateral damage.
I don't think he was reassured. I know I wasn't. I had to be the hard ass I hate. I prefer to give people what they need to get their work done. I have always empathized with the Horse in Animal Farm. Now that I have said that, I remember the Horse worked itself to a grizzly demise while the pigs lived their "Some are more equal than others" lifestyle.
Orwellian futures suck.

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