Flashes of Panic

I had a brief one-on-one meeting with the department chair yesterday, and while I think my initial apprehension had some basis in fact, I think I’ll get along well with her. If this woman had gone into the military, she’d be on her way to General Staff by now. She has clear ideas about the way she thinks things ought to go, and is talented at convincing everyone else to make it so without bulldozing them—more likely they’ll leave thinking it was their own idea in the first place.

She reminds me, in many ways, of the theater group director in my high school, though quieter. (At least two of you now know exactly the kind of person I’m talking about.) She’ll give you all the work, responsibility, and/or corresponding glory you can handle, but woe betide those who expect the rewards without the responsibility. I’ll do fine as long as I stay on her generally-good side, but I suspect everything I do for her will come with some low-grade, possibly-unjustified fear of not making the grade and being consequently cast into the abyss.

But I have to have respect for any manager willing to use the phrase, “read the riot act.”

Now Playing: Pizza Cutter from Wholesale Meats And Fish by Letters To Cleo