Why do I bother?

I have had an argument with my boss and I am pretty fed up about it.

Some time ago I had my car park pass revoked and told I had to use the hospital’s ‘Park and Ride’ scheme.  I wasn’t pleased, mainly because it adds at least half an hour and sometimes much more to every day,but also because I have to carry all my documents much further.  I asked at the time if I could have a wheeled briefcase for the job and was told to get one and produce a receipt, but then it was suggested that we could probably find one in the stationery supplier’s catalogue.

Months passed.  I hurt my back and was off ill and when I got back it still hadn’t been ordered.  In the meantime a colleague ordered a rather nice leather briefcase and my boss didn’t check the order and signed for it.  He was furious that someone had ‘put one over on him’ and now he has a budget deficit and has decided that my request is to be denied.

When I went to Occupational Health, I was told specifically not to lift or carry, so I felt completely justified to be angry, and I contacted my boss to explain that this was a request for a necessary item not a request for something extravagant.  The cost of the bag was £12.

My boss has a tendency to be bull headed about such things.  He decides something and whether he is right or wrong he sticks to it, regardless of how rational the decision proves to be.  My immediate reaction is to be disgusted with his pettiness and also disappointed that he feels that my conscientiousness and hard work, my flexibility is reasonably rewarded by such pettiness.  I started to ask myself, “why do I bother?” .

I rang my supervisor and told her how I feel and she thinks that he is wrong, but feels that I am fighting a losing battle.  She is right, of course.  She is going to contact OH to see if there is a way to insist I get the bag, or find a pot of money that will fund it.

I had decided that I should try and put it behind me, and buy a new bag myself, after all it is only £12, hardly worth getting steamed up about.  Perhaps, though, I might not bend over backwards quite so much, because I feel really unappreciated. I came home past the sea and it was lovely;  the sun was still not setting, though it was pretty low in the sky.

When I walked in my beloved was sat playing games, my son was reading: an oasis of calm.  My beloved made me a cuppa,  and it looks like we are having meatballs and chips for tea. I am not sure that my hubby is too keen on cooking on his day off.

My son has had some bad news at work and had a pretty shitty day.

Neither have asked how my day went.