Quota Overload
Most of us have internalized personal quota systems, but few of us are willing to acknowledge it, perhaps because the word quota left such a negative impression when applied to the civil rights movement or to entry rules for immigrant acceptance into this country. I can’t speak for any one else, but when I reach my saturation point, it’s imperative that I concentrate on the potential for explosion, because my quota limit is only about two steps away from my invisible ‘line in the sand.’ We all have those, too, although most ‘civilized’ and/or phony people prefer to ignore them.
Although my quota numbers are slightly nebulous, there are different quantities allocated to different problems. The one most often encountered is my low tolerance quota for jerks and assholes. I recently discovered that I may be forced to increase that quota, too, because we seem to be manufacturing more jerks and more assholes every day. My limit is 3 per day, 7 in a four day period, and 10 for an entire week. Pity the poor dunce whose reactions, actions, verbal response or inattention makes him or her number eleven.
Although humor is a wonderful and fun thing, I also admit to having a quota for self-taught comics – those generally intelligent idiots who think everything should be drenched in their version of amusing dreck. They prefer not to recognize that everything is not funny, or that others do not share their egotistically oriented sense of humor. My tolerance level for these individuals is very low when serious topics, problems or commentaries are introduced and they are too busy making up a joke about it to realize they’ve missed the point of the entire exercise. I’ve also notice that this is a condition that worsens over time, making massive leaps in frequency when their stupidity is quietly tolerated or indulged.
My ultra low quota categories also includes rotten attitudes, bad manners, poor behavior among workers in the service industries, dangerous drivers, cell phone users, offensively loud people or things, people who go through revolving doors on my push, political corruption, corporate malfeasance, George W. Bush and all his cronies, war mongers, illiterate or ignorant right wingers, religious fundamentalists, and television evangelists, the repetitive cant of 24/7 cable news, the creators and disseminators of propaganda, and abusers in every form. Perhaps this sounds like a grudge against current culture, but let’s be realistic – a gal has to have some standards.
It’s only fair to mention my own reactions and behavior whenever my quota limits are reached. First, I am a relative patient person, usually slow to anger, who does not immediately react, preferring to hang back quietly and seethe silently in the hope that the offenders will adjust their own behavior. In addition, I am not particularly fond of confrontation, although not in the least adverse to standing firm and forcefully expressing my ire, and those who are most observant and familiar with me realize there is a storm brewing as soon as I go into silent mode. When possible and appropriate, I will also physically withdraw from the ‘situation,’ primarily because my Krakatoa imitation can, like the volcano mentioned, be extensively destructive to innocent bystanders.
Generally, once an explosion has occurred, the horizon clears immediately. In most instances, the episode is forgiven if not totally forgotten, but…and there is always a but. Should it become obvious that I’m dealing with a frequently repeating offender, I pull out my short list of “those who no longer exist,” and add a new name. My rule of thumb is that everyone gets a second chance, but rarely does anyone get a third.
Calling my ultimate solution ‘harsh’, others have tried to intercede on behalf of the banished on occasion. It doesn’t work, simply because they do not realize that I also habitually and closely analyze my own reaction when these things happen, believing firmly that no one is responsible for my own behavior but me. After all these years, I well know what is forgivable and what isn’t, at least as it relates to my standards. It’s unfortunate that others don’t choose the same form of self-awareness.
Granted, I may not view the ‘world’ in the same manner as ‘normal’ people, but in my opinion, there is a great difference between self-discipline and self-control. Self-discipline is an ongoing, daily and internalized action. Self-control is a singular incident. It is my self-discipline that makes me analyze each instance or blow up, but it is self-control that keeps me from immediately reaching out with both hands to visit physical violence on jerks and assholes or plot some other form of long term vengeance to incapacitate their determination to BE jerks or assholes, especially when they have proven their inability to learn from experience.
Perpetual jerks and assholes, and particularly those who constantly practice to improve their technique, should take note. Krakatoa might be silent for the moment, but it can erupt without warning.
Although my quota numbers are slightly nebulous, there are different quantities allocated to different problems. The one most often encountered is my low tolerance quota for jerks and assholes. I recently discovered that I may be forced to increase that quota, too, because we seem to be manufacturing more jerks and more assholes every day. My limit is 3 per day, 7 in a four day period, and 10 for an entire week. Pity the poor dunce whose reactions, actions, verbal response or inattention makes him or her number eleven.
Although humor is a wonderful and fun thing, I also admit to having a quota for self-taught comics – those generally intelligent idiots who think everything should be drenched in their version of amusing dreck. They prefer not to recognize that everything is not funny, or that others do not share their egotistically oriented sense of humor. My tolerance level for these individuals is very low when serious topics, problems or commentaries are introduced and they are too busy making up a joke about it to realize they’ve missed the point of the entire exercise. I’ve also notice that this is a condition that worsens over time, making massive leaps in frequency when their stupidity is quietly tolerated or indulged.
My ultra low quota categories also includes rotten attitudes, bad manners, poor behavior among workers in the service industries, dangerous drivers, cell phone users, offensively loud people or things, people who go through revolving doors on my push, political corruption, corporate malfeasance, George W. Bush and all his cronies, war mongers, illiterate or ignorant right wingers, religious fundamentalists, and television evangelists, the repetitive cant of 24/7 cable news, the creators and disseminators of propaganda, and abusers in every form. Perhaps this sounds like a grudge against current culture, but let’s be realistic – a gal has to have some standards.
It’s only fair to mention my own reactions and behavior whenever my quota limits are reached. First, I am a relative patient person, usually slow to anger, who does not immediately react, preferring to hang back quietly and seethe silently in the hope that the offenders will adjust their own behavior. In addition, I am not particularly fond of confrontation, although not in the least adverse to standing firm and forcefully expressing my ire, and those who are most observant and familiar with me realize there is a storm brewing as soon as I go into silent mode. When possible and appropriate, I will also physically withdraw from the ‘situation,’ primarily because my Krakatoa imitation can, like the volcano mentioned, be extensively destructive to innocent bystanders.
Generally, once an explosion has occurred, the horizon clears immediately. In most instances, the episode is forgiven if not totally forgotten, but…and there is always a but. Should it become obvious that I’m dealing with a frequently repeating offender, I pull out my short list of “those who no longer exist,” and add a new name. My rule of thumb is that everyone gets a second chance, but rarely does anyone get a third.
Calling my ultimate solution ‘harsh’, others have tried to intercede on behalf of the banished on occasion. It doesn’t work, simply because they do not realize that I also habitually and closely analyze my own reaction when these things happen, believing firmly that no one is responsible for my own behavior but me. After all these years, I well know what is forgivable and what isn’t, at least as it relates to my standards. It’s unfortunate that others don’t choose the same form of self-awareness.
Granted, I may not view the ‘world’ in the same manner as ‘normal’ people, but in my opinion, there is a great difference between self-discipline and self-control. Self-discipline is an ongoing, daily and internalized action. Self-control is a singular incident. It is my self-discipline that makes me analyze each instance or blow up, but it is self-control that keeps me from immediately reaching out with both hands to visit physical violence on jerks and assholes or plot some other form of long term vengeance to incapacitate their determination to BE jerks or assholes, especially when they have proven their inability to learn from experience.
Perpetual jerks and assholes, and particularly those who constantly practice to improve their technique, should take note. Krakatoa might be silent for the moment, but it can erupt without warning.
posted by kaz at 8:40 AM
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