Tic’d off
Got to spend a few days with my fambly this week.
I always say my Phillips crew is the closest thing I have to blood relatives. That continues to be true.
They come to Boca every year to host a conference. I didn’t go last year because Mom went into rapid decline. She liked me being home. And so, I was.
This year, I paid for a ticket and got the full day trading experience. Made some money. Hung with my peeps. Got to talk to their customers.
I have got to be the only person who uses PTO and my own money to go get education that will benefit me in my day job.
In any event, I was starting to think about my future. Love the job I’m in, I promise. But I got to thinking, these guys could use my help. I even offered it, unpaid, since they deal in options and I no longer do.
And I was only the damn Optionz Goddezz for 20-odd years!
In any event, I know I romanticize my past with them. I mean, our friendships and relationships are all real. But I have a tendency to make all my jobs seem less maddening than they can be.
Dulcie asked me if I still talk to Greg. I laughed. I said you know, the guy was a phenomenal editor and a fun person to talk to. And he wasn’t the worst boss I had. But I don’t really care to remember those years before Dave promoted me out from under him.
(Also, Dave is so proud of how far I’ve come. I am, too. I was telling Dulcie it’s so mind-blowing that we are PEERS now.)
They all treat me like a goddess. Which, obviously. I don’t think any of them ever had a sharp word or a crit for me, for as long as I’ve known them.
I did see Dave get a little cranky when the internet refused to cooperate with all of us chasing option prices at the same time. He said something in a bit of a tone that I hadn’t heard before.
One of my friends called it a tic. I thought that was an interesting way to put it.
I got to thinking about a more recent supervisor. Who I got along with just fine but we never managed to get through a conversation without me saying something that somehow triggered them and their automatic response was to knock me down a peg.
I’m talking about such awful things as “I think we need a (redacted) promo” and “cats are children.” Like it was a tic to disagree with me over something innocuous.
Now, this is not to minimize actual tics. I knew of Baylen Dupree long before her TLC show because my friend’s child has Tourette’s and the other condition, Coprolalia, where they swear and say random racist shit. I don’t even want to act like I relate to that actual medical stuff.
But there are some dudes out there who have to get in the next/last word, who have to be the “rightest” in the room, who just physically cannot help but bristle and respond when some badass goddess type is simply doing what she’s put on this earth to do.
I found a good manifestation the other day.
“I get paid to be myself. The more I show my true self, the more abundance I create.”
I will be filthy damn rich with how myself I am at all times.
Anyway, not knocking anyone for having a moment. But certainly learning some grace here by categorizing any weird instant reactions as what they are — physiological responses.
Maybe that’s all that I got from Greg, too. His tics, as they were, were to keep me at work late after being bored out of my fucking mind all day. And never give me the approval I craved so much from him.
At least I used that time to take courses and teach myself how to trade. So, I can’t be too “tic’d” off. I guess.