To look by the door, you’d think Peter the Great’s Grand Embassy was set to depart for its European tour. But alas, it was (according to my wife) merely cluttered with the essentials required to sustain a two year old and four month old for the briefest of beach vacations. In fact, I had been warned that unless I obtained a car-top cargo box by our departure date, I might find the diver’s seat commandeered to house supplies other than me.
Those of you who have vacationed with small children know that though it certainly is one for them, it is not so much for you. After returning home and unpacking, I felt like taking one of those old fashioned “cures” near some remote European spring … alone.
Of course I’m exaggerating here (only slightly) for effect. It was a great excursion and we all had fun. But not everyone on vacation has fun, at least towards the end. There are few better indicators of how well you’ve constructed your life than how you feel at the end of a vacation.
For me, now, the transition is very smooth. I like being on vacation, experiencing new things and generally breaking up the routine but, once winding down, I’m just as pleased to “get back into it.” I can do this because I have absolute confidence I am doing the right work in the right way. My career is not meandering down a path that I know is taking me in the wrong direction, I am not frittering away precious time merely to obtain a paycheck. I can only look at my current situation with satisfaction because it was not always so.
Before I went to graduate school to get things back on track, I was doing meaningless and stressful work which I knew, deep down, I had to end at some point. This became crystal clear once when I took a few days off from work and, right at the start, dreaded going back. But change did not happen overnight — it took time, first, to figure out which path I wanted to be on, then to carry out the plan that would move me onto the right course.
All this came back to me as I was loading up the car on Monday to bring the Grand Embassy home. I was comically dragging some luggage, a few duffle bags, a bouncy seat and a small fold-up bathtub down the stairs when a woman, whose face seemed set in perpetual frown, said, “That’s the worst part, going home – right?”
“No, it isn’t,” I thought, as I muttered something along the lines of, “Oh well, I guess that’s just the way it is.”
When it was the worst part for me, I was looking for others at work to commiserate with. I hated my job, I thought, so they must as well. But all things are relative, and my frustration was compounded when I found many perfectly happy with their employment. I was unfairly applying my experiences, values and goals onto them. I’m sure I was not a positive influence on the staff.
You have malcontents like I used to be on your staff right now, and you know exactly who they are. You cringe every time they huddle with one of your “good” employees, fearing the spread of a contagion that could wreck the morale of your whole shop. Address this right now. If the individuals in question have merit, it is your job to find their proper seat on the bus. If they are merely lazy or peevish, you must show them the door.
As an individual, craft your life so the best parts aren’t the always-too-short vacations you can take from it. As a manager, build your team with individuals who like their jobs as much as they like being away from them. If too often you hear the phrases, “I hate Mondays” or “Thank God it’s Friday” intoned with a copious helping of desperation, take action — the rest of the staff will be glad you did.
idigresearch says
Mothers never go on vacation. They just do the same things in different places.
Anthony Guerra says
Hysterical (and so sadly true)!