A Big Old Dose of Huh?
Most of the time, I’m that person. You know, the one who gets stuff done – who will get the turkey, because no one else wants to. I’ll bandage the horse’s tail, because he has an infection, and it looks like you’d expect from an infected tail: there are maggots. (I really wish that last one was a joke. Thankfully, that was over ten years ago. He recovered, fully.) I’ll do holidays, go shopping, make phone calls, schedule appointments, and generally Get It Done. And, no, I don’t know why I capitalized that, expect that I need more coffee. Desperately. STAT.
Whenever I had to do group projects for class (even in grad school, gods save us all), I was the one who ended up doing the organizing, writing whatever part the Group Slacker forgot to do, and taking the proverbial bullet. I’m not a martyr. I’m not perfect. I’m just the person who steps up.
It can be kind of exhausting, but that’s life. That’s being an adult. Five-by-five.
However, I’ve always had issues with people who take undo credit. Back in college, I once had a friend who created drama over and over again – just so she could swoop in and save the day. Never mind that the day would’ve been just fine, if she hadn’t muddled things in the first place. It was a habitual thing, and I was slightly relieved when we drifted apart. (Is that shallow? Bad? Am I not supposed to admit that? Er, oops.)
This morning, I had a rather surreal conversation. It went something like this.
Person A: This [Insert random thing here, involving phone calls, flaming hoops, and having to juggle clowns] needs to be done. (This is something I already knew needed to be done.)
Me: Okay. [Makes phone calls, braves the flaming hoops, and juggles the scary clowns] (Did I mention I hate clowns? Yeah, it’s kind of thing with me.) Alright, it’s done!
Person A: Yay, teamwork!
Call me Ishmael crazy, but that’s not team work. That’s just shirking responsibility and dumping it into my lap.
I see that kind of thing happen all the time. People are unwilling to step up to the plate, and the responsibility falls to someone else. I don’t care for it. I don’t think it helps things. I think that we often need to do the exact thing that scares us. It helps us to be better. To grow. To be able to make the tough decisions and choices.
I know that this doesn’t happen to just me. And I’m not trying to posit myself as the paradigm of goodness or any such nonsense. This is me, ranting a bit. In the grand scheme of things, nothing will change. People are who they are, and it’s not likely that spontaneous maturation is going to occur.
Things like this make me realize who I am and who other people are. Sometimes, that makes life a little easier to handle – when you know where you stand, and who will run away (like Brave Sir Robin) whenever the mood strikes.