Last night I was feeling enraged. I sat here working myself up over things said earlier in the day, imagining things to say in reply, scripting entire dialogues based on a few words, feeling angry and put-upon. I shot off a ridiculously self-indulgent and self-righteous, slightly incoherent, email to a friend, describing the (unintentional) slight from my boss, the stress of a project I'm working on (working customer support is horrible). Woe is me, I'm surrounded by people who don't appreciate me.
My friend does not need to be putting up with this nonsense from me, particularly not now, when he's got legitimate problems. One of these days I'll learn to send the overwrought emails to my imaginary friend, not to a real, live person.
Gradually, I realized that what made me really angry were two other (but related) incidents. First, my friend E., a person who works in web-based databases, sent me an email in which she used a lot of programming/database terms I'd never heard. Not just, "I don't know much about that," but, "I've never even come across that word." Then I had a long, fruitless call with a customer who clearly knew more about database architecture than me, and was rightfully frustrated with the crappy application I'm supporting. (I really hate customer support calls that begin, "I'm a software engineer...")
What those two incidents clearly highlighted for me is that I have no skills. My title is "Manager of Web and Database Services," and I have almost no technical knowledge of databases or web technology. I could, of course, invest in some education, but that would be putting a stake in the ground and saying, "Yes, I want to be an IT professional." I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up, which is why I've got the non-greasy version of a job flipping burgers, why I've been doing nothing much in the same place for 20 years.
I don't have much technical knowledge, but it's more than pretty much everyone else at the organization. I can smirk at folks who can't use Outlook, and feel like I'm the superior, smarter person, surrounded by fools. It's all very well to feel smart, but it's much harder to actually do something with it. Really, it's high school again: big(ish) fish in a tiny pond. I've put myself in a position where it's unlikely I'll have competition, and I haven't yet graduated to something like college, where I was pretty average.
What does that say about me? That I'm lazy? Terrified of risk? So uncertain of myself that I won't even try to stretch? That I prefer to stay in a position and a place where I can be sure of feeling superior?
The sad thing is, for about ten seconds, I was very proud of myself for gaining this insight. Then I remembered that understanding is not the same as solving. In the last couple years, I've started to like myself a lot more. I think I've really become a nicer, happier person.
And then I take two steps back.