I had a couple of conversations with my boss today, and my job security doesn't look that good. He confirmed my belief that he thought I was much more skilled than I am, and that the job needs someone with more skill in managing clients. In short, if I don't develop this skill quickly, I'll be on the unemployment line again.
When the above being said, the cynical question comes to mind:
"Besides the assassination, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?"
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Strangely enough, it won't be the end of the world if I lose this job. I am no longer happy to go in to work, and I no longer feel confident in my job skills. My relationship with my boss is triggering old feelings of dealing with my mother, being punished for things that were out of my control - and being unable to communicate the issues properly enough to defend myself, and becoming tongue tied when it came to verbally put up a defense.
Even in this regard, I am much better off than I was when younger. I understand the nature of the problem, even though I can't express myself well. I understand there is a form of transference at play here, and I am not taking it personally. Instead, I'm looking at this as a handicapped person might - they expected me to do something that my body wouldn't let me do, and it's just business - nothing personal.
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Now that I've vented a little about work, I can mention how my day after work went. I left work around 6:15 pm, realizing that I probably would miss the 6:45 train out of Grand Central, and be late for dinner with BXM. So I rushed to the subway, walking at a fast and exhausting pace. Luckily, the subway train was being held in the station for a minute, and I was able to get on to the train just before the doors closed. When I got to Times Square, I had 5 minutes to go before the commuter train would leave Grand Central, and I felt I'd have to be very lucky to make the train. Well, I virtually ran to the platform when I reached Grand Central, and hopped on the train through the "conductor's door" at the back of the train, just before it started to move. In fact, the normal doors used to let commuters on the train had already closed - so I didn't even have a second to spare, and was glad that I still could hustle when I needed to.
I got home around 7:45, and then changed into Marian mode before driving to the Bronx to see BXM. No matter what time I get there, I'm always waiting about 5-10 minutes for her to come downstairs. This time, we ate close to her place, and enjoyed a good meal - but with a lot of noise in the background. As people left, it was easier for us to hear each other speak. And it was very nice to have the waitress address both of us as ladies.
While dining, I mentioned that I prefer the company of women, and realize that women act very differently when men are included in the dynamic. Once a male comes into the group, everything changes. The male is expected to lead the group, and his presence is often disruptive. Add to this a sexual tension, and it is easy to understand why women love to have "Girl's Nights - No Men Allowed." BXM noted that many women will straighten out another woman's jewelry if out of place, and a woman's hand near her chest isn't seen as being sexually forward. It's seen as if someone was brushing a piece of dust off one's jacket - just a normal part of human grooming.
Before we left, BXM had to go to the bathroom - and she slipped and fell. Although she was OK, I know that something was wrong - and it didn't help that the path to the bathroom wasn't level. Later on, I almost tripped in the same place. But while she was in the loo, I chatted with the waitress as if I were a cisgender woman, and talked a little about my life. Nothing heavy here, just two women bonding a little.
Eventually, it was time to leave and BXM walked home from the restaurant. I have a feeling that she made time to be with me (due to my normally low availability these days) though she'd rather have been doing something else. Hopefully, next time, she will be more interested in the conversation instead of what had to be bugging her (not related to me).