The Cubicle Farm is a Battlefield: The Introvert and the TBMs

Why oh why, do Americans have to spend so much time in the workplace?  We’re one of the hardest working countries in the Developed World and we receive and use the least amount of vacation days.

In my last post about office life, I lamented about the loss of physical and personal boundaries and the energy vampires, Overly familiar Fred and Habitual line-stepper Harriet, that roam the cubicle farm looking for fresh introverts to feed off.  Once you spot the energy vampires, you can pretty much come up with a plan to avoid them or severely limit contact.

However, there is much more sinister creature out there in the cubicle farmlands of America: That Bitch Molly.   TBMs just come to work to make life miserable for people.  Nothing you will do or say will ever be right in a TBM’s eyes because their hostility amps are always on 11.  They approach every single situation as if you are their mortal enemy and you must be destroyed.  I’ve found the majority of the time, TBMs zero in and mistreat people to demonstrate their power and/or feel better about their own insecurities.

Example:
TBM: Peter, what time is it?
Peter: It’s noon.
TBM: <looks down and double checks his/her watch> Actually, it’s 12:01 and 48 seconds.  <walks off in a huff and proceeds to tell the whole office how Peter purposely gave him/her the wrong time>
Peter:

TBMs would annoying to any damn body, but they are soul-crushing to introverts. TBMs carry so much negative energy and they try damnedest to transfer that negativity on to you.  As introverts, we are very empathetic such that we can’t help but to take TBMs’ foolywang personally and start internalizing their malicious vibes.

It defies logic for someone to behave in such a manner.  Why would you come to work, or any place else for that matter, and be such a bitch for no damn reason? INFPs, INTPs, and INFJs are more sensitive to this behavior.  All of my friends that fall under these personality groups have really been catching hell this month from TBMs in their offices.

At my last job, I actually let TBMs get to me the point where I was complaining every day to my friends and having panic attacks.  Now I’m like:

But seriously, if TBMs are your colleagues, tell them to calm their tits.  If the TBMs are in management, now you have problems.  You can only adjust your personality, bite your tongue, and chafe under managerial TBMs for so long.  If you find yourself thinking how wonderful it would be if your TBM fell and broke a leg; it’s time to move on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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