Today is stinging, I’m back at my desk after two days of an auto-immune reaction to something I ate on Sunday (I’m coeliac for you newbies). Aside from being turned inside out by it, I’m now five days behind at work after dedicating the back end of last week to helping BossMan get his stuff together for high level reporting. Everything else went on the back burner while we worked on three different documents together.
In the middle of it all on Friday I sent an email to a colleague asking him to check something out for me, as he was the only person who could confirm the information I needed. I had to copy-in different colleagues in case we had to jump on the information provided back to me. After getting a coffee today, I said ‘Hello trouble’ to him. He responded with ‘I’m not happy with you, are you going to apologise?’ completely at a loss to what I’d done, I asked him what was up.
I re-read the email, nothing wrong with the wording and heaven alone knows I can be abrupt in emails, mainly because when you’re firing off lots about different topics, I don’t have time to be flowery – people know that I am sweetness and light in the greeting and closure, but that what I need, I just bluddy well ask for. So I went round to his desk to talk about it. Basically he didn’t like me copying in people to the email. At least I think that was what he was concerned about, it was difficult to tell from the tirade he gave me. After apologising twice and explaining exactly why I had done what I did, over the course of nearly ten minutes of explaining, I was worn down by his refusal to accept 1. My apology. 2. My position within the organisation and that 3. I was doing my job.
I made one last attempt at an apology and left his desk in tears. Great.
He had been stewing on this since Friday afternoon, it was now Wednesday morning. Two colleagues came into an office with me and reassured me that I had actually handled the situation really well, it took lots of tissues, Lady Antebellum through my headphones, my phone forwarded and looking out at my trees to calm me down. I don’t take well to being spoken to aggressively, let alone for doing my bluddy job.
I’ve got an osteo appointment in an hour, I have a feeling I’ll be crying all over her again. I had wanted to get ironed out after spending 36 hours ejecting everything in my system (sorry if you’re eating), my joints ache from my body’s response to gluten and my back is sore from lying in bed for so long. I’ve got so much to catch up on today, I didn’t need to be made to feel awful for actually doing something that I’m expected to do.