BITCHEZ, or The Honeymoon is Over

September 3, 2007 at 6:27 pm (Work)

My bosses are being complete bitches about my teaching gig.  The new one called me into her office and told me that I should have asked her permission to take the adjuncting job.  And then she berated me for spending too much time away from the desk.  The gist of the conversation was that her predecessor had given me too much power, and she was now here to cut me down to size.    She’ll review my work in six weeks, and if it’s not up to snuff, she won’t let me take anymore teaching gigs. 

And then she asked me if I had anything to say to her.

Well, “Fuck you,” was appropriate, but not professional.  But we New Yorkers know how to say “Thank you” so that it means “Fuck you” and that’s what I did.

This boss is new, and I know she has some insecurities.  One, she was up for this position years before and was passed over, which is such a source of bitterness that she brought it up in a meeting with new students.  Two, she’s insecure about her lack of a doctorate, which most of the higher ups here have.  Three, she has two years before they officially open a search, and she might not know that it was strongly hinted by the administration that I could be a contender, if I get myself together and graduate.

So I can see how anything that furthers my degree and professional development would be a threat to her.  What really angers me is the lack of support from the assistant boss, who has known me and worked with me for a year, and knows that this office cannot run without me.  Mind you, I dream of becoming dispensible.  I am sorely tired of being the only person around here who knows what’s going on.   Those bitches need to take responsibility for their own program, and learn a fucking thing or two about its day-to-day running.

La Belle Helene says I should walk out.  I won’t cut off my nose to spite my face.  I have an apartment, a car, and a shoe collection to pay for.  And having health insurance is nice.  But as soon as I get the okay from HR that I can transfer to another dept., I’m gonna start looking.  The head of a rival dept. is awaiting budget approval for an assistant coordinator.  It would serve those bitchez right if I went to work for their enemy (whose office is in the same building).



  1. balladofyoko said,

    “we New Yorkers know how to say “Thank you” so that it means “Fuck you” and that’s what I did.”
    I think that’s awesome.

    I agree with you, too– I wouldn’t just walk out, but definitely start looking.

  2. La Belle Helene said,

    I think I told you that it would have been cool to just walk out. But I understand that is not a possibility.

    It would be great if you got the assistant coordinator job at the rival department. And when the bitchez come to you asking where something is, or how to do something, you can say with a smile, “Sorry, that’s not my job.”

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