Spineless

I can't pinpoint exactly when it happened, but I've become a wuss. At least at my day job.

Now, I'm talking about a specific type of wuss. Certain types, I didn't really need to become...I was born into it. I'm not an outdoorsman. I don't like guns. Aside from the cartoon type, I'm not a fan of violence. I've been leery of motorcycles since I was about nine and a cousin was paralyzed in an accident. With very few exceptions, I haven't faced many physical confrontations that I haven't tried to joke my way out of. And, I'm sure that my lack of misogyny qualifies me as a wuss in the eyes of some of my brethren.

No, what I'm talking about is that I've become a company wuss. Not that long ago, I used to make firm decisions, confident in myself to the point that I feared no repercussions. If those above me in a company were really dumb enough to disagree with me in situations where I was so clearly right, then...well, I didn't care. If a company was going to get rid of me for exercising sound judgment, then I could live with that.

Now? Well, I can't make any freakin' decisions without first second guessing myself and then calling and/or e-mailing everyone and their brother to build agreement. Because, I can't have a decision come back on me, because I actually have gotten myself into a situation where I can't really afford to lose a job.

Of course, many, many, responsible adults spend their entire adult life making sure not to lose a job, and many of them progress quite nicely up the corporate ladder. Heck, many of the smarter ones passed me by on my different stops when this VP or that one decided that they were more fun to have around than me and my "honesty."

But, for one thing, it's a little late for me to be starting to do this...I've lived my life on this obnoxious path so long that it feels completely disingenious to me that I've started being afraid of my own corporate shadow. I feel like the older salesmen in "Glengarry Glen Ross," terrified of third place.

Second, I only work a day job because...well, I need money. And, unlike some of my more successful friends, I'm not able to actually pay the bills with what my creative endeavors bring in. It used to be that meant that I didn't care about my day job, so I didn't really care what they thought of me. Now, however, I've hit that age where I'm well aware of what the job market thinks of many of my middle management peers. I spent years analyzing the data about over-40 workers. So, I'm stuck.

I should take solace in the fact I actually am still a firm decision maker in other aspects. When I'm dealing with the community theater, I help guide decisions left and right. By it's nature, I have to make decisions as a writer. I don't usually have to make decisions normally, but I do have a respected voice in my role as a local sports writer.

Instead, that almost makes it worse. If I'm not a wuss other places, why do I have to be one any place?

Oh, well, at least I know that I can come home each night to the respect of my wife and children.

OK, stop laughing. Would it kill you to just humor me once and a while?