I had the pleasure of another story, helping me realize how far I’ve come and that I have a lot of atta girls to give myself which are long overdue. I have truly grown…what type of flower I become remains to be seen.
My husband works in the corporate offices of a mega corporation. In fact, there are more employees in the building he works in, than there are in the town we will eventually move to in Nowhere, Missouri.
He works in an ugly, multi story building with its own parking garage, but he remains the same humble man I married. The one who knows what it’s like to start from the bottom of the bottom and work your way up.
Anyway, that part of the story is neither here nor there. This story is about control.
The stories he tells me about the characters he deals with in the microcosm of his compartmentalized area of the Company can be quite amusing.
Every year my husband and I perform a hold-our-breath-dance while the knuckle-heads at the very top play checkers with the jobs of those beneath them. Every year my husband gets a new boss and so far, every year, we let our breath out when we find he will continue to be employed.
But that’s neither here nor there except to explain that someone at the top disappeared recently, and now there is a vacant office. Apparently a very large office. An office which remains locked because the room has now been designated for meetings of the knuckle-head vice presidents only.
And there’s a Keeper of the Keys to the door of the exclusive room.
A woman who acts as I did in my younger years. A young woman full of self hate with intention to destroy herself by any means possible. (I’m not saying that The Keeper is the same, but I had the same type of character traits she appears to have)
My husband had to hold a meeting and couldn’t find a peon conference room available so he went in search of The Keeper of the Keys to the empty magic room—she wasn’t there. So he went to the next, much more sensible back-up keeper of the keys, and was let in the room.
The next day, the Keeper of the Keys chastised my husband for holding a meeting in the sacred VP conference room. Apparently there was a bit of trash in the trash can and someone had written on the whiteboard.
Oh. My. Gosh. The corporate world is going to pot because someone left behind a bit of trash and wrote on the pristine whiteboard. The worst being, she had to clean it up!
As my husband was sharing this story with me, the conversation in my mind went something like this…..bahahahahaha! how ridiculously petty! clean it up and move on.
That’s when the moment hit me.
I was like that woman.
I said a little prayer of thanks that I’m no longer that petty type of woman.
Besides, no one would make me Keeper of the Keys because I wouldn’t be able to find them anyway.