April 8: Being Responsible, Good Guy, "Rye" Dip Monday

I'm a very responsible person, to the point of being a little obsessive.  For instance, when I leave my medical office job most days, I have to make sure two things happen:  one, the answering machine is activated; two, the medical records room is locked.  I have actually made it to my car in the parking lot, sat in the driver's seat, and then convinced myself that I forgot to lock the medical records room door.  So, I trooped back to the office to find the medical records room locked up tighter than a garter belt on the fat lady at the circus.  After getting back to my car in the parking lot, I once more started second-guessing myself, this time over whether I turned on the answering machine.  Yes, I made a second trip back to the office, only to find the answering machine activated and functioning.  That night, I finally pulled out of the parking lot about 25 minutes late.

Perhaps if I was less responsible, my life would be a little more peaceful.  I sure wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night wondering if I e-mailed a student about a missing paper or deposited a patient's check before I clocked out.  No, I would be able to leave my work where it belongs--on my desk.

 Being responsible leads to more responsibility.  It's a vicious, self-perpetuating circle.  People realize they can depend on you, so they ask you to do more.  You can't say "no," so you start to amass a pile of obligations that could suffocate an adult rhino.  And, the sick thing is, you get it all done,  which means that people ask you to do even more and. . . I think you get the idea.

I've been this way my whole life.  I don't like letting people down.  If I saw you on the street today, and you said, "Can you edit my book on the rise and fall of Ancient Greek civilization, including a 100-page index of end notes, by tomorrow morning?"--I would probably hesitate a moment before saying "sure."  The hesitation would be due to the small hamster of guilt climbing into the exercise wheel of my brain and going to work.  That little rodent has created more problems for me than I care to admit.

The upside of this character strength/flaw is that I have the reputation of being a "good guy."  I like people, despite the streak of misanthropy that runs through some of my blog posts.  I like making people feel good.  That means I will go out of my way to try to help my students succeed in my classes.  If you ask me to help you write a resume and cover letter for a job interview you have tomorrow morning, I will.  I may grumble a little, but I will.

I think being a "good guy" has sometimes hindered my advancement in the world.  The old saying is that the "squeaky wheel gets the oil."  I'm not a squeaky wheel.  If I get a crap load of work to do, I don't waste time complaining.  I get to work.  If I get assigned two courses of technical writing at the university, I dust off my tech syllabi and handouts.  Perhaps if I was a little more squeaky, I'd be teaching poetry workshops instead.

That's the crux of my question for Rye Dip Monday:

Will being a "good guy" get me a full-time job at the university soon?

And the answer from the gospel according to Holden is:

"Oh, God, Phoebe, don't ask me.  I'm sick of everybody asking me that," I said.  "A million reasons why.  It was one of the worst schools I ever went to.  It was full of phonies.  And mean guys.  You never saw so many mean guys in your life..."

I just did the Rye dip three times, and my finger kept on landing on this passage.  It's almost like God is tired of me asking this question.  Perhaps what I'm supposed to glean from this passage is that I'm supposed to be meaner, because the school is full of "phonies" and "mean guys."  Perhaps I need to squeak, really loudly for a really long time.

Saint Marty (SQUEAK!) is ready (SQUEAK!!!) to get (SQUEAK!!!!!) a little (SQUEAK!!!!!!!!!!) mean (SQUEAK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).

What I'm afraid of...