Giving an email the middle finger is not a good sign

Holy crap. I just gave “the bird” to an email after I hit Send. This is not a good sign. I should be more highly evolved, but I’m just not.

This guy has given me more than an uneasy feeling for a couple of years. I really liked, respected, and appreciated him at first. There’s the rub: at first.

I’m a horrible judge of character. I give people about a million chances. I have noticed as the years pass that I’m less tolerant of slime bags because I’m running out of time. The older I get, the more finely tuned my bullshit meter is becoming.

People with high energy get my attention. I have a tendency to be overly energetic — to the point of purposefully dialing back so I’m not inappropriate. I love to connect with my fellow freaks, and I thought this guy was one. I had visions of working closely with him for years. I thought our skills would compliment both of our businesses and was thrilled when he suggested an introduction to one of his main subcontractors as a way to tap into my skills and expertise. That was more than two years ago.

Since then, this guy has been nothing less than a pain in my ass. He was “brought in” by someone I have partnered with on big projects for a decade. His job was to deliver his specialty to a client my longtime partner and I have served for several years. He did — at first. It wasn’t long before he started weaseling his way into areas outside his specialty — and stepping on our toes.

Here’s where that “highly evolved” bit needs more work. I shouldn’t be offended. I shouldn’t be bothered by his actions. I shouldn’t be flipping-off my screen after hitting Send on an email to this amazing, successful business owner. I need to pick those “shoulds” off my skin like pesky bugs. Knowing all of this made no difference in the moment — except I noticed and started writing this blog post.

Life isn’t all rainbows and unicorns, blah, blah, blah, right? Suck it up, right? Get over it, right? What-the-fuck-EVER! Sometimes we get poked. We get triggered. People get in our way. We think we can do “it” better. We think we have leverage. We think we have territory.

You know what? This guy could find someone to replace my ass. Writers are a dime a dozen, right? Whatever. He’d have to pitch the idea to my longtime client. My institutional memory barely holds a light to the results and benefits I deliver. So, the dude can have at it if he’s inclined.

In the meantime, I’ll work on my interpretation of the facts (he is doing X; how I react to X is on me). I’ll dig for the gold (his expertise will yield results for the client we now share). I will respond to his emails — even if they bug the living daylights out of me — but I won’t promise to like it.