Zoology

"Zoology teaches that a number of flawed individuals can often add up to a brilliant social unit." Robert Musil in "The Man Without Qualities vol. 1.


Yes, I know that I failed in my hero post yesterday. Truth is there was no hero yesterday, and my day just was not conducive to writing a post. However, today is a new day, and I hope to produce a hero for the podium today. In the mean time, I am going to pull back the curtain (just a bit) onto my professional day to day life. The quote above describes my professional life quiet well. I do know hardly anything about zoology, and I do not if Musil was just making the shit up or not, but when I read that line last night a blog post was born. I am a part of a "unit" in my office, a sort of semi-independent grouping that is headed by la grand fromage (i.e. my boss). My boss can be a damn good boss, and at other times, she can be quite scary. There are in her little nest a LOT of flawed individuals, myself included. My flaws are fairly well documented, and fairly well understood. Each of my co-workers have their flaws as well, and that is not always a bad thing. If properly managed, a flaw can easily become a virtue. My boss, being more optimistic, than myself would love for the above quote to be true about our "unit." After some theatrics yesterday, I am beginning to despair of that ever happening. The main flash point is (as they often are) quite silly, but it did involve me doing a (perceived) wrong to the rest of my co-workers. If you ask me I am right, and they are wrong. The part of my job in question involves "assigning" work to the group, and people were of the opinion that I gave myself the good stuff. The problem with that idea is, there is no "good" stuff in our unit. It all stinks (just like the shit it is), and we all get shit, no matter how it is divided. Of course, my argument in my defense was that I had made each and everyone of my co-workers involved mad, so I must be doing my job correct. I do not know that they would agree, nor do I care. It is just a symptom of what I fear is a fatal disease. That the flawed individuals that I spend a great deal of my time with are not going to be able to become a brilliant unit (social or otherwise). Of course, things might take a turn for the better, and our little unit, after a stern talking to from the head master will pull its shit together, and become a brilliant "unit." Stranger things have happened, but for now all this blather has been to distract you from the idea that I am a day late and a hero short for (yesterday) February 24th.