Micromanagers Spread Misery Like Mayonnaise

Remember Jane Hathaway from the Beverly Hillbillies? She was the prune-faced secretary of Mr. Drysdale, the banker. She was all business all the time, except when it came to Jethro.

My manager at work is Jane Hathaway on steroids. Micromanaging is a euphemism for my boss’ supervisory style. Actually, the word style may be a bit generous. I’ll change that to tactics because it sounds more military. She is the ninja of nagging, the hoss of harrassment, the empress of elongated instruction. And she repeats herself like a well trained parrot.

This woman has no children–thank the merciful Lord. She is the most obsessive-compulsive person I have ever met. I never stop being amazed at her negative attention to detail. Have you ever noticed that people like this could walk right past an extinct songbird, chirping at their window, and be completely oblivious but let a paper clip be out of its usual spot and it’s a 911 call?

In the office, we all refer to her as “your mother” when talking to each other. We form a conga line every time she goes on vacation and a funeral procession upon her return. 

One of my co-workers photocopied an article from Success Magazine about micromanagers. It was excellent. Their description matched this person perfectly. The article pointed out that most of these types are very insecure and tend to control out of fear. I just realized that’s like a palindrome because her behavior is fear–out of control. This makes a lot of sense.

I see my manager as a person who has no real beliefs or passions, grabbing on to the material and all that is tangible, desperately trying to shape people and situations to be the way SHE wants them to be. How arrogant!! If she would get out of herself and see that she is not all powerful, she’d give herself and everyone else a break.

I watched her experience the deaths of her father and brother and, even then, she was bossing them around and acting like it was their fault they were dying–as if they could simply do what she told them and their fates would turn around. Despite her best tutelage they both died.

We just had a great employee and friend quit because she couldn’t tolerate the kindergarten (without the gentleness) atmosphere. This morning my manager almost had an infarction because, after our meeting on top-twenty customer rum cake distribution, I left the room to put my notepad and pen on my desk. I guess I should have piled all six rum cakes on top of my head so that she would be assured I had heard her instructions and did, in fact, plan to distribute said rum cakes. She screeched, stopping me in my tracks. I had to explain to her that I was simply putting some things away first. I am almost half a century old and have been passing out rum cakes at Christmastime for nearly twenty years. What did she possibly think was going to go wrong?

In fairness, this manager has good qualities too. She’s organized, naturally. She can be helpful when she’s in the mood. She is not lazy and definitely works hard. But the whole atmosphere would be better if she had an interest or two outside of that place. Some hobbies might lead her away from her own ego and some real spirituality would relieve her fear-driven need to clutch the controls of her own real life video game.

Please hear our prayer before a plane full of innocent people returning from Cozumel are doomed because of the collective wishes of an office full of tormented women.