Anxious Work Trip

I’d just like to point out that when we get to the end and someone remarks “He had no idea what he was doing!”, that I knew that before everyone else did.

I have spent the past five years at work, waiting for someone to call me out on my shit. Instead, I have moved higher and higher within the company. I am now a supervisor, and being asked to go around the world for the company. How the hell did this happen? Don’t people realise I’m just barely holding myself together, that I’m bumbling through life.

I can look busy, sure. But actually being busy? Actually doing what I need to do? I’m not sure. People keep asking me if I have a plan and yes, I suppose I can put something down on paper that theoretically makes sense. How do you think I go through uni? Through doing, I might add, a theatre degree, which has not prepared me for the world of business.

One of the worst things anyone can say to me is “That’s not what I’ve heard” or “Really?”, usually after I’ve given a description of something that I barely understand and am just hoping to get through the sentence without passing out or having to admit that I’m not 100% sure of anything I’ve just said. And then the other, more authoritative party will say “that’s not what I’ve heard”, and my anxiety will kick it up to 9000 and my mind will think that everyone I’ve ever spoken to has lied to me, I don’t understand anything that I’m talking about and I have exposed myself as a fraud. I mean, it’s funny, because there are miscommunications all the time. Life is a goddamn sitcom that way. You just have to be confident in what you’re saying.

I am basically just a scared little boy. I would say “scared little boy in a man’s body”, but unless weight constitutes as a man’s body, then I don’t think that’s right. When I’m in a relationship, when I have someone to protect, I can be a massive ball of anger and fury. I can protect people until the ends of the earth. But protect myself? I have my words, and even those falter at important moments.

I’m making up stuff to do. Whenever the staff here goes to do something, I ask if I can sit in and then look like I’m taking notes. It seems to work so far, and it looks like I’m actually providing instruction. I wonder how long I can get away with it – “Yes, please show me how you log into your computer and empty your Recycle Bin… Yes, let me take some notes and discuss it with the head office and we’ll see how we can improve the process”.

Fuck, I shouldn’t even be here on this work trip. I don’t know what I’m doing.

Do you want to know who would have been way better at this then me? My ex. She would have been able to answer their questions, she was smarter than I am. I wonder, if the business had to choose between the two of us, which they would choose?

There’s two possibilities: I do a great job, and they don’t need me to come back (unlikely). Or I do a shit job and they don’t ask me to come back. Sure, in a year’s time I won’t care, but the feeling of anxiety right now is getting to me. The look on their faces when I leave and I can see that they know that I did a bad job.

I have a dinner tonight with some other people from the Australian company I work for. Higher up than I am.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

And another dinner on Friday night, with the team I’ve been working with, where they have to pretend my trip was worth it.

I just wish I had something to look forward to.