Years ago when jobs were plentiful (ask you parents about it), if you had a really bad boss, you’d do one of two things. You’d hit the streets – literally – in search of a new job, or you’d bite your tongue, bide your time and wait for your pension.  These days when you hit the streets, the streets hit back and pensions have gone the way of the 8-track tape and Betamax (ask your parents about that too.)  So, for many of us, for now at least, we’re stuck with our really bad bosses a lot longer than we’d planned on. So, how do you deal with a really bad boss when leaving just isn’t an option?  The answer is, one day at a time.

My most stressed times dealing with bad bosses came in anticipation of the things I feared they would say and do.  After “disobeying a direct order” (my non-military bosses actual words,) I spent an entire weekend tossing and turning, worried that I would show up to work on Monday, only to be unceremoniously escorted out the door by our version of security (the HR manager off her meds).  But after spending my entire weekend worrying about Monday, on Monday my boss never even mentioned the incident.  In fact, she never brought it up again.

Then there was the time I totaled the company car.  Yes, I totaled the company car…during my second week on the job.  Giving my really bad boss at the time, a man who never required a legitimate reason to scream and curse, the legitimate reason to top all legitimate reasons.  As he screamed and cursed at me at length in his office, I tried to defend myself – citing the helium balloons in the back seat of the car I’d hit, the full moon, and the questionable chicken salad sandwich I’d had for lunch as possible causes of the accident. It was terrible – the sandwich and the meeting with my boss.  So terrible in fact, I thought my job and career were over.  They weren’t. I survived that boss’ verbal beat-down and every one that came after that for the two years I worked for him.

The point is, we typically can’t control the actions of our really bad bosses, but we can control ours.  No matter how bad our bosses are, we work for them, and work we must. We can either do that work in anxiety and fear, or we can choose to take the high road.  By taking the high road – the road less travelled – we live above the noise and the nonsense.  If we work at it, we’ll be able to see a lot more, learn a lot more and experience the phenomenal personal and professional growth not readily found elsewhere. It’s a cliché’ for a reason, but the best way to deal with any life challenge, even one of the really bad boss variety, is one day at a time.

How do you cope with your really bad boss? Tell us in the comment section. We’ll share all your tips in a future post.

Monday morning mayhem – Or how to survive getting  your really bad boss, really angry on a Monday morning

For years I wasted entire Sundays absolutely dreading Monday mornings.   The uneasy feeling would start to creep in on Saturday night, and by Sunday evening, I was a basket case.  For many of us Monday spells the end of the weekend, the start of the work week and a return to a real tool of a boss.  Facing a really bad boss on a typical Monday morning is bad enough, but it’s even worse when you’ve got to face him with bad news from something that happened over the weekend.  What could you possibly do over the weekend that would require you to give your boss bad news on Monday morning?  Glad you asked.   I crashed…no… totaled the car. The company car.  Did I mention I’d been on the job for only two weeks when it happened?  I challenge anyone to top that Monday morning story.  

Thankfully no one was injured in the accident.  I still remember the two block walk of shame to the office that morning, after a totally sleepless Sunday night.  As my new colleagues sped by me on their way to work, I sensed more than saw them looking at me in their rear view mirrors wandering why the new girl was walking to work.  They all knew I had been given a company car and like a scene from The Office, were all peering over the receptionist’s shoulder when I arrived several minutes later.  I could have taken a cab, but in addition to the car, the company was paying for me to stay in a hotel until I found an apartment.  I thought it would be pretty presumptuous to take (and expense) a cab to work the day after totaling the car.   

It’s a testament to the saying "time heals all wounds" that I really don’t remember much of the conversation that took place that morning.  I do remember that it involved a lot of cursing on the Reprobate’s end (in two languages) and quite a bit of apologizing and tears on mine.   I was pretty young then, so crying was one of the only coping mechanisms I had mastered at the time.  I think I must have blacked out for a couple of minutes too because I remember someone handing me a bottle of water and seeing half of it on my shirt a few minutes later…or maybe that was sweat.  In any event, my point is this.  I dreaded that Monday morning probably more than any Monday morning I’d ever had before then and have ever had since.  Yet I survived.  I made it through the swearing, spitting (yes there was spitting) and crying that day.  Had I known 10 years later that I wouldn’t even remember the conversation clearly; I would have slept that Sunday night.  Had I known that the next two years would involve a lot more cursing, a lot less tears, and me ending up no worse for the wear, I would have had a lot fewer sleepless nights. 

It took several more bad bosses and Monday morning mayhems for me to learn that we can’t always control how our bosses treat us, but we can control how we respond.  Our really bad bosses get our talents, our time and our energy, but we own our emotions and our responses to theirs, no matter how erratic they might be. The next time I was faced with a Monday morning mayhem of that magnitude, I slept on Sunday night – not like a baby – but like an adult who knew in her heart that no matter what the boss dealt me on Monday morning, everything would be all right in the end.

If you’ve survived your own Monday Morning Mayhem, share your tale of survival with our readers. Email your story to denised@reallybadboss.com, or leave a comment in our comment section.