Therapy - talk it out...

The woman who did my job, oh, say, 10 years ago was apparently very good at it.  She was great at the administrative part - she always got paperwork completed on time and such.  But the customers hated her.  She was rigid and brusque and very nearly rude regularly.  Yesterday, it was implied by a co-worker that maybe I'm not so good at my job, because so-and-so never forgot anything and so-and-so never added a customer's order onto the schedule at the last minute and so-and-so never made any mistakes with the numbers.  

My co-worker doesn't know, I guess, that so-and-so called up my boss a few weeks after he'd moved me into this position, asking for her old job back.  And you know what?  He turned her down.  And he's done so the other two or three times she's come sniffing around looking to come back.  

Know what else my co-worker doesn't know?  She doesn't know that right before I left my office for that meeting, the one where she implied that I suck at my job, I got a message from a customer who'd just had lunch with my boss.  Know what the customer had to say?  "He sure does think highly of you - he sang your praises."  This is the second call in a week I've had like that from a customer, telling me that my boss thinks I rock.  And my customers regularly report to my boss and our salesman (who also takes it to my boss) that I'm awesome.  

So yeah, I forget shit sometimes, and sometimes I screw things up.  But most of the time?  Most of the time I'm fucking badass at my job, and I'd challenge any of my questioning co-workers to step into my shoes and try to do better.  

It bothers me that her comment, so snide and so shitty and just plain mean, bothers me enough that I'm writing a blog post about it this morning.  Therapy, is what I'm calling it.  Trying to remind myself that the important opinion is that of  my boss, the one who controls my destiny, not my co-worker, who has no pull over the fate of my career.