A brick wall.
That's what K has been calling me for years. Someone so stubborn that once I've made up my mind, you'll need a Russian Tank to blow a hole through me to get past that thick skull.
Today, my boss sat me down, bought me a cup of coffee, and had this conspiratorial grin on his face that said 'I've got something to get off my not-so-hairy chest'. Not a good sign. Although I really should not be reading too much into that stupid smirk because I think its a hereditary facial feature of that mangy mien of his.
But I digress.
Well he basically said the same thing. Along the lines of the brick wall that is. Not that I didn't see this coming. He hates my guts. Just 2 weeks ago he threw a fit when he discovered that someone he had tasked to do something actually consulted me before proceeding.
"Why da hell did you have to ask him for?" I was told he said, "He's sure to say no, no, no, cannot, cannot, cannot".
You see boss-man here wants to be that Russian Tank.
But I am grateful the 'tank' decided to go with the soft approach today, with the coffee, smirk and everything. And so he tells me that I really shouldn't be so resistant to change. That he expects me, at my level, to be the one that decides on and makes the changes, not merely executing them.
I was beginning to feel touched and convinced until he launched into a 10-minute soliloquy on Moral Courage. And how he had lots and I had but tiny-tots. You could just hear his ego inflating the way u do the bald tyres on your dirty bicycle with that old creaky step-on pump.
A part of me felt sick. Another part of me walked out of the room thinking, hey, am I really that donkey-ish?