We're switching to a new computer network at the bookstore, which is a massive undertaking. Basically, we have to rewrite every buying, selling, storing, transferring, reporting and accounting process that the store utilizes, and there are a lot, because I work for a giant company. As part of this procedure, we have to wean every employee off of our antiquated system and train them to use a Windows-based operating system with entirely new rules. It is expected that management and trainers (that's me!) will locate bugs in the new system and invent ways of utilizing the current system regardless of dysfunctionality. It is also expected that managers and trainers will do this without one iota of formal training themselves; as I noted to my boss this afternoon, this kind of technological autodidacticism isn't in my job description. He wasn't happy.
Maybe he doesn't understand the word "autodidacticism."
I hate my job today. I'm never entirely thrilled with it--the pendulum swings from complacent to bored--but never before in my life (excepting student papers) have I been confronted with such illogicality! In one week I'm to train people to use a system that I haven't been trained on. And when I had the audacity to politely express my discomfort to the powers that be, I was hit with a barrage of the following:
1. You're a trainer. (Oh really? Is that why my job title is "trainer?" Thank you so much for enlightening me. I can cancel my visit to the Dalai Lama now.)
2. You're supposed to know this stuff. (Yes. I realize the discrepancy between your expectations and my reality. That's why I'm here requesting training.)
3. If you don't know something, ask me. (Hm. I'm in the process of following this directive, and it isn't going so well.)
4. You're supposed to be finding bugs in the system. (Yes, but how do I differentiate between a bug and the limitations of my own knowledge when I
haven't been trained to use the system?)
5. We don't expect you to locate bugs in the system. (DO YOU LISTEN TO YOURSELF?)
6. I'm really nervous about your network abilities. (Yeah, me too. That's why I want some more f**king training!)
7. I think you do an amazing job. (I hate you.)
When I mentioned to my boss--again in a polite, controlled manner--that I was feeling nervous about asking questions because each time I do, I'm met with a wall of hostility and impatience--he defended his anger and then apologized. I think my boss was having trouble being decisive today.
Maybe he doesn't understand the word "hostility."
He's not a bad man. I kind of like him most of the time. He has sparkling green eyes and a nice smile. And he's smart, despite my snarky comments about his vocabulary. And no one taught him how to use the program, either. He's just had a year to play with it. I have two weeks. Somehow the discrepancy between his readiness and mine has been overlooked in his zealous desire to make me feel like an ass. Plus, his apology was insincere. He feels as angry as I do--the difference is that a) I tactfully hide my feelings and b) my anger is valid and his is a retarded response to the even more retarded company decision not to train trainers.
I know. Next week, when I meet with my class, I'll quiz them on the end of the novel, even though they'll only have read the first 80 pages. They're supposed to know that stuff. They're students. I think they do an amazing job.