This is going somewhere, I promise. I do a good job of being nice at work — to the mean people, to the elderly man with Dementia, to the stubborn, to the exasperating high-maintenance customers who assume that I can read minds. I’m nice to the patronizers, to the angry conservatives, to the parents of over-indulged children, and to the people who complain about the design of the free wrapping paper. I’m even nice to the deluded people who have self-published a book that they are sure will become a best-seller. I’m nice to everyone, whether they buy a book or not, whether I’ll get something in return or not, whether it seems to make a difference or not. I can be very, very nice.
But I’ve noticed something lately. Nice seems to be costing me something more than just an effort. It takes something out of me, when it hasn’t before. I’m not always so nice these days. I’m less accomodating. I don’t say, “Oh, that’s okay” to the staff any more. I fume. I turn from an encounter in which I was Nice in the face of Not Nice, and I think black thoughts. I can be horrid.
This isn’t the worst thing in the world. I’m not a complete doormat, and I haven’t been for years. I know who I am, what my limits are, what I want, what’s acceptable. The problem is I’ve begun to reach my limits more often. Some days, even, I’ve had it up to here.
I could blame it on Summer. On the heat, on the crowds, on my long work hours, on the strain my brain and body must endure for these three months. But I take care to minimize and mitigate the toll Summer could take; and still, I’m less nice.
Maybe nobody notices. Maybe I’m just in a slump. Maybe it’s a good thing that I’m more apt to get pi**ed off than I used to be. Maybe I’m finding some power that will propel me forward. Maybe I’m learning something.
My solution to this dilemma, for that is what it is, is to be patient with myself and everybody else. The Golden Rule doesn’t say, “If you’re nice to people then they’ll be nice to you.” There aren’t any guarantees, there’s nothing to expect, and there are no rules to the Rule.
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There’ll be talk of knitting next time. Won’t that be nice?
Sweet Jane,Oh, how I relate to your tho’ts. It’s how I have felt for some interactions w/ some of my ex- clients. It is how I feel sometimes now, at this very moment, how I felt earlier today.I try to remind myself that the interactions are not personal to me – they are about the other person & what she/he is dealing w/. Having said that, sometimes that is just not enuf.Sending you tho’ts of deep breaths, of humor, of patience & of an earlier end to some work days than you otherwise would have.Mucho XOXO to you.
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Hang in there. It sounds to me like your limits are set far higher than mine, so in comparison I think you’re doing quite well! (Though I do think this is the first time I’ve ever heard you curse, asterisked or not!) I hope you get to take a vacation once the summer people are gone? Just a little over a month til Labor Day, you know.
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Well, personally, I’m blaming that feeling on menopause – but it has been hot, sticky, miserable, and that could be part of it for you. Also people are just ticking me off more than normal so maybe it is something in the air. btw — the way I remember the end of that poem (and a much more fun way) was “And when she was bad she was better….” And if any letters are missing in this post it is because my keys have decided to stick in the humidity. And I might not catch them all.
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Years ago, when my husband was working as a land surveyor, outdoors in some of the most appalling weather, he’d pick me up at my air conditioned library at the end of a busy summer day. When I’d say “Whew. I’m so tired! Too tired to fix dinner” he’s challenge me. “How can you be tired? You’ve just sat around in air conditioning all day?” and I’d snarl “I’ve been nice to 60 people today. Can you even be nice to one?”That conversation was repeated every summer till it finally dawned on him that being nice is hard work. And whenever the public comes to you for help – the expect you to be nice … or else!Hugs to you sugar. September will come. Sweaters will feel good to wear again.
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Sometimes it all gets to be too much. I used to have a deli in SH and we had a sign in the back “Summer people, summer not…..”And then there’s the over reactors. Like when you’re daughter’s $20 watch still doesn’t work when the battery is changed and you start wailing like your dog was hit by a car. Some of the people in EH this summer are acting like they’re on display at all times, and that their rudeness is the show. My boss has been known to actually ask some city people (and locals) to permenently leave the store. And then he goes to a yoga class after work to try to leave it all behind. Maybe he should take up knitting!
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More strange parallels: it was my mother who recited the Longfellow poem to me – over and over again.As for receding niceness, I believe that’s a part of coming fully into midlife. At least for me, as I get older, I recognize how short and sweet life is. I’m less willing to indulge in bullshit of all kinds (pardon my french). When people mistreat me, I no longer want to extensively process the episode or just take it. I want to do something else, anything else, rather than waste even two minutes being mistreated.What a wonderful post, Jane. You certainly are NOT plain. You are fabulous.
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Sometimes I also think of the other rule (and quote it often to my husband and daughter) – “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
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Sometimes being nice comes at a price. It’s like there’s only so much nice you can dish out before the not nice kicks in. I keep working on expanding my nice capabilities.
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I think it takes a lot of energy to be nice, but a lot more to be horrid. I’ve been trying to practice more indifference in certain situations.Ha. No guarantees, for sure; maybe some good karma, tho.
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Oh, you could never be truly mean! You seem so lovely and sweet! When I was young and was going through a “funk” my parents would always say to me, “Rubellina’s back!” My name is Ruby and I HATED it when they did that to me. It made me even more upset. I think I may need to rethink calling my 4-year old “Grouchetta” when she’s upset! When did I turn into my parents!?!?! Feel better!
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I got the poem as well, usually followed by “What a face. Only a mother could love that face!”Charming.I’m becoming convinced that we are each born with a finite quanitity of “I can deal with idjits and walk away unscathed.” The more of it we have to do, the younger we run out. Working retail has got to be a huge drain on this limited resource. And, since I find you sweet and lovely (although I haven’t seen you in a while), I’m guessing that you’re hiding it better than you think you are. I know that hiding it is not the point – feeling it is – but if you weren’t feeling it by now, there WOULD be something wrong with you!Love,Lissa
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I’m with you. I worked as a waitress for about 10 years and I’ve suffered a lot of fools in rapid succession. Dealing with the public is a challenge.The words that occasionally helped me cope came from nothing more than a Salada tea bag label (because this was before Dr. Phil):”Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting his own battle.”If that doesn’t work, f**k ’em.
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What a great post about something that is definitely tough to wrestle with. While it doesn’t excuse the rude behavior of others I’m aware that we may not know the whole story of what they are going through in their life at this moment.
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Yup. I decided after the misery that was last fall I simply wasn’t putting up with the idiots anymore. Granted, it meant quitting my job and working for one tenth the money from home, but spiritually it was worth it for me. I’m not tolerating them in my personal life either, and have “rooed” out the people that are too full of negativity and judgement and bitterness. I just don’t have time or energy for them when it makes no difference, and trying to do the right thing when they’re battling me with that bad stuff takes too much energy for me to be good in the other ways that do make a difference.I still try to be a good person. I try very hard to be loving and patient. But I don’t subject myself to people that will never respect or appreciate how difficult they are to deal with. Myself, I’m a total witch to deal with a good bit of the time, a rollar coaster nightmare that means I hardly blame Ken for traveling so much… but I recognize that and I appreciate those who do deal with me, even if they’re just little balls of fur.Oy. Long comment – obviously a thought provoking post.Maybe I should just send you an e-mail?:D XOXOX
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I’ve noticed the same thing about myself over the past year and I’m not really sure why…
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