I once had a boss who wouldn ’ t let me use the bathroom during work hours .
He had a timer on his desk that he used to track every minute of productivity during the day . If I needed to go , he would hit pause , making sure that the ninety seconds in the bathroom didn ’ t count toward the hours I owed him .
The official company policy was “ flex time ,” which is supposed to mean you work the hours that best fit your life but actually meant , “ We flex all over your nights and weekends .” It ’ s hard being managed by a workaholic , because you constantly feel lazy . He ’ d send emails at night , text messages on the weekend , and loved launching big projects at Christmas .
He even kept a checklist to make sure you maximized your commute . There was an approved list of educational podcasts he expected you to listen to if you had to drive anywhere . It was like the state-run media in North Korea only stricter .
One year we raised the company ’ s revenue by 48 ×. Let me repeat that , because it sounds made up : we increased the revenue by a factor of 48 ×. Know what he said when he found out ? “ Should have been 50 ×.” We didn ’ t have a party to celebrate . No one cheered in the office . I asked if we could get a cake for the breakroom and he said , “ Do you think Elon Musk is eating cake right now ?” How do you even answer a riddle like that ? I trudged back to my desk and moved on to the next project .
The worst part is , I couldn ’ t quit . He was the only person in our small town who would hire me . I was trapped . I spent seven long years walking into the same office , waiting for him to start that timer all over again , knowing that whatever I accomplished that day wouldn ’ t be good enough .
Finally , it came to a breaking point . It was a cold February afternoon and I had just landed back in Nashville after a visit to Houston . The trip was stressful . In addition to the pressure of speaking at a big event , the car service broke down on the side of the interstate on the way back to the airport . I ’ d made the most of it , working next to an underpass and the hum of vehicles whipping by at seventy miles an hour , because I didn ’ t want to seem like I was wasting company time . Even in the breakdown lane I was on the clock ! Then I worked on the flight home and listened to a podcast in my car as I headed back to my house . The day was technically over , but I knew I should go back to work to finish up a few last things . As I pulled into the office , I said something I ’ d said a thousand times before : “ This guy sucks . I have to quit .”
There was only one problem , one small wrinkle in my escape plan .
The bad boss in this story was me .
If you listen to true , helpful , and kind soundtracks , working for yourself can be a wonderful experience . This is what I ’ ve been told anyway
“ The bad boss in this story was me . ”
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