Because my office is directly across the hall from the office
photocopier, I've become an expert on the machine. It's really not by
choice, it's mostly because I can't stand to look across and see the
blinking red light that signals something is wrong with it. It used to
make me mad that people treat me like the repairman for the thing and
that I'm often interrupted by people asking questions about it. That is
until I heard someone praising my ability to diagnosis problems with one
of the most important devices in our department. Because I had
headphones on, a coworker didn't think I could hear her telling a new
employee that I was the go-to person for info on how the fury-inducing
copier worked. When I heard her talking about me like that, I realized
that something that I looked at as an inconvenience was perceived by
others as a valuable skill and a help to them. Yes, there are times that
being interrupted will push all the wrong buttons with me but for those
times, I hope I just take a deep breath and look at it this way: how
often do we get the chance to ease someone's frustration just by knowing
the right buttons to push.
Lisa-Jo Baker (lisajobaker.com) hosts a weekly event on her blog called "Five Minute Friday". The rules are 1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking. 2. Link back here and invite others to join in. 3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.. So here's my first try at this. Today's topic was Roots. Roots – I think about my grandparents who lived on a farm until my grandfather’s diabetes worsened and they moved to a town with a hospital nearby. My father still says he wished he could have kept that farm. I think of my grandmother who was a widow for 20 years. Every year she would stand over my PaPa’s grave, wishing she was with him. I think of my parents, a product of those grandparents, how hard my father worked to put 2 girls through...
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