Changing expectations

There comes a point when you have to realize what can be, and what will never be.

This is quite obviously, not a San Diego update. That will come this evening, because I’m currently writing a whole bunch of computers to just try and get my head back to where it needs to be.

My last day at my full time job is tomorrow.

Tomorrow. (Kinda makes you want to sing “Annie” doesn’t it?)

However, the woman who is replacing me, has now had 2 weeks in which to semi grasp what the job description is. Ask questions. Ask how she needs to be doing things.

She hasn’t.

The questions she has asked, though? How do you open a document when you’re already in Word?

How do you turn on and off the computer?

How do I type a list if there is already something written here?

Training her on customer service skills and how to answer a phone in a professional environment, instead of just answering with a “Hello.”

I don’t mean for this blog post to be offensive. I don’t mean for it to be bitchy. I don’t mean for it to be a rant.

But it is a way for me to be able to express myself, and my frustrations. And I am frustrated to the point of exasperation and high blood pressure. I almost don't know how to answer these questions. Because honestly, I have never had to teach someone that when you are in a professional environment, you don't answer a phone "hello."

((You also never bring religious books in either, especially ones about "Finding your better God" because it makes many people uncomfortable. Including the physician you share an office with. Who works with children who sometimes die of their cancer, and it's awful. But that's a story for a different time I think...))

My father has taught me to do things right the first time. “Touch it once, Whitney, and let it be done the proper way. You’ll never have to go back and do it again.”

My office is covered in post it notes that say the same thing. Because the same questions are being asked, over and over and over again. There is zero ability to multi-task. There is literally no ability to retain information that has been given more than once. In fact, there isn’t even any recognition that the information has already been given to her.

I worked hard to make the program run in a way that was successful over the past 2+ years. I worked hard to make it organized, and to be sure I was receiving comments from students that were “this is the most organized a clerkship has been all year.”

And now, for all of that work, to feel like it’s slipping away and was for nothing? I’m sad to leave; I’m certainly not going to miss everyone I work with. But I am going to miss making sure that there are students who were being taken care of in a way that was aiming to make them as successful as they wanted to be.

And now I’m nervous for these new students. I am nervous for this woman. Because students who pay over $60,000 a year to go to school? They want things done right the first time.

And it’s not going to happen.