I have always been a frugal person, and I have worked since I finished high school. It comes as no surprise that wherever I went, I was the ‘baby’. The little one. The one that requires extra love and attention, the one that crawls on people’s laps with questions and concerns, and whose mistakes are forgiven because, well, I’m the little office princess.
But in a recent work meeting, as I looked around the room, I shockingly realised that I am by no means the baby anymore. Sure, I certainly still behave like one, everybody still plays along, and my boss has kindly been taking the blame for hiring people who are younger than me.
But let’s put the hard, cold facts on the table. I am, well, how shall I put this? I’m slowly becoming quite senior now – not only in age, but in experience.
This is both a shocking and pleasant, for a number of reasons.
The upside is that I no longer do the crappy jobs; I no longer get anyone’s coffee, I no longer have to raise my hand to cover other people’s shifts, and I no longer need to volunteer for time-consuming projects I hate. In fact, I am so established, I don’t even get asked to do these things anymore, because the ‘no’ is implied.
And I may or may not have sent people to get me coffee already, though admittedly that still fills me with guilt.
The downside is that with greater power, dearest reader, comes greater responsibility.
I have developed ninja-like skills around the staff room to avoid being noticed and dragged into some meeting, question or problem that now requires someone with experience.
I also get more serious emails from more serious people that require serious action.
Lastly, I don’t get to avoid confrontation or difficulties; I must deal with these by myself, without crying, like a boss.
At least after getting all this scary shit done like a real grown-up, I get to shout at some faceless junior person to get me a coffee.