Flow State

Years ago, my wife had a friend who was a world-class gossip. Whenever my wife came home from spending time with her, she’d have updates on everybody. Some of it was harmless enough – new jobs, family news, who moved where.

But most of it was catty. Judgmental. Mean. This person always had something negative to say about somebody. One friend was lazy. Another was selfish. Another was a bad parent. Another was cheap. Nobody escaped criticism.

Finally, I asked my wife, “D, if she trash-talks all her other friends to you, who do you think she trash-talks to them?”

Yeah. You.

That’s the thing about gossips and chronic complainers. People sometimes think they’re being included in some special inner circle. They think, “Well, WE are the reasonable ones. WE are the exception.”

Nope.

If someone spends all day bad-mouthing other people, eventually your turn comes too. That’s just what they do.

I thought about that after my interaction with Loud this week. Loud was furious at another co-worker and at one point called them a “fucking idiot” because they disagreed about a work issue. And all I could think was: what exactly does Loud call ME when I’m not there?

Because if someone complains about almost every person in the building, why would I imagine I somehow get spared? Why would anybody think they’re immune from a person whose entire social interaction revolves around negativity?

My wife used the word “toxic” when I told her the story. I usually roll my eyes at trendy buzzwords, but honestly, in this case, it fits. That environment is toxic.  But mostly it was the realization that I don’t want to be a part of that person’s negativity (as the hearer or target)

Yesterday I made the mistake of lingering in a co-worker’s room. Never linger. That’s how workplace documentaries begin.

I had only gone in to use the microwave. Let’s call this co-worker “Loud.” Immediately, Loud started complaining about an upcoming event. Secretly, I was delighted because it proved I was right. I had previously been asked to take on that role, but I declined because I did not believe the promise that “there won’t be mission creep.” Friends, there was mission creep. There was mission sprinting. The role has now expanded into a multi-department turf war involving various stakeholders, all of whom apparently have different visions and none of whom actually have power.

So while Loud is venting, another co-worker, the Immediate Boss, walks in and starts complaining about a third co-worker, Worker Bee.

Mistake #1: I said I agreed with Worker Bee in theory, just not in approach.

This led to a disagreement, which is fine with Immediate Boss because Boss and I can disagree like adults. We make points. We respond. We occasionally say things like, “I see your argument.”

Loud, however, debates like a guy trying to get kicked out of a Buffalo Wild Wings. Volume increases. Arms waving. Veins activating. Then comes the name-calling. Worker Bee became a “fucking idiot” and several other things that probably violate HR policy, FCC regulations, and possibly the Geneva Convention.

And that’s always my issue with this stuff. Can we not just disagree anymore? Why does every disagreement have to escalate into “this person is morally defective and should be launched into the sun”?

This tiny interaction is exactly why I don’t eat lunch or do the pre-work coffee thing with most co-workers in my department. It’s a vortex of complaining. Everyone leaves more irritated than when they arrived. It’s emotional secondhand smoke. Worse, I absorb it. I become more negative. Which is impressive, because my natural resting state is “mildly disappointed history professor in a 1970s movie.”

OTOH, this morning I had coffee with two other co-workers, and it was great. We talked about comedians, religion, current events, and random nonsense. No work talk. No complaining. No gossip. We disagreed on things like normal humans, and nobody called anyone an idiot or suggested exile.

The amazing thing is that these people dislike work just as much as everyone else. They simply don’t build an entire personality around complaining about it.

I left laughing and in a legitimately better mood.

So I’m recommitting to trying to be an uplifter. Not in a motivational speaker, “Live Laugh Love” sign kind of way. I’m still me. There will still be sarcasm. There will still be annoyance. But I don’t want to become one of those people whose entire emotional diet consists of outrage, complaints, and reheated grievances from the microwave room.

I don’t want to be someone who leaves people feeling worse for having spent time with them.  Just the opposite.  I’d like people to leave feeling better.

Where you drink your coffee matters.