November 20, 2015
Dear Everyone:
“The average American adult spends two hours each day arguing with
reality.” This statistic was
quoted at last summer’s Regional Leadership Conference in
Portland,
Oregon. It was part of a
Human Resources presentation, marginally abridged to “fit”
ARMA Local
Chapter Boards, on “How to Deal with Difficult Employees”, or in our
case Chapter Members.
Case in point. Garbage
pickup day at “Jeannie’s” place was moved from Monday mornings to
Thursday mornings. This
means “Jeannie” has to put out the garbage Wednesday night instead of
Sunday night. She demands to
know “who made this decision without consulting me?”
And “who got my Sunday nights?”
In other words: “Who moved
my cheese?”
Who
Moved My Cheese?
is a relatively small, less than 100 pages, book written by
Spencer
Johnson, who also co-wrote
The One
Minute Manager, another brief treatise on “how to fix things in as
little time as possible”.
In Who Moved My Cheese?
Johnson takes the entire human condition and neatly divides it into four
quadrants, something psychologists seem to enjoy doing.
Then he spends some time “describing” how the individuals in each
quadrant “react” to change.
In reality, he doesn’t really tell anyone how best to deal with change,
other than “change happens.
Deal with it.”
The book became a national bestseller largely because company managers
bought it by the case and dispensed it “free” to their employees with
the more-than-implied “if you don’t like the changes we’re making, it’s
your own fault.”
In “Jeannie’s” case, the situation is:
The
waste management company moved garbage collection from Monday
mornings to Thursday morning because they believe it makes their job
easier. So instead of
putting the garbage out Sunday night, put it out Wednesday night.
They really don’t care if it inconveniences anyone in the
slightest. Get used to it.
Arguing about it to “thin air” doesn’t really get you anywhere.
In other news…
I am getting over my cold, now that it’s been two weeks since I caught
it on the way home from the dentist office.
By the way, I also got my new
crown this week and am much happier
in the chewing department.
I only catch a cold about every three years or so.
Consequently, each time it happens I’m out of practice.
It usually takes me a few days to get used to the idea that I’m
sick and that there is actually something I can do about it.
Like taking medication to alleviate that annoying cough.
So I went to the local pharmacy to buy some cough medicine.
Nothing fancy, just an
Over-The-Counter (OTC) cough suppressant.
When the cashier asked my for my Date of Birth (DOB), I just looked at
him. Huh?
Then I remembered seeing a piece on the local news about a teenager who
had been hospitalized because he overdosed on OTC cold medicine.
So now you have to be 18 years old, or over, if an OTC product
contains certain active ingredients.
And, just to be on the safe side, the cashier is required to
enter a DOB, rather than risk mistaking me for a teenager.
In four months I’ll be qualified to sign up for
Medicare.
And a year after that,
Social Security.
And I’m still getting
carded.
Love, as always,
Pete
| Previous | Next |