The Runaway Train of Not-My-Jobism

The assistant takes a couple of days off for the holiday. A package, clearly marked, comes in on the first day. Supplies everyone’s been waiting for, something that gets used all the time. Everybody knows where to find it on the shelves. The next day, there it sits, on her desk. Finally, a receptionist puts it away, even though it’s not her job.

Cigarrette butts on the sidewalk outside the store. It bothers the clerks as they walk in together, talking about it. “You can still smell them,” one says. “It makes the place look like a dump,” says the other. “Building maintenance is getting so sloppy,” they concur. Nobody moves. It’s not their job.

There’s an epic of I can’t be bothered going on right now. Maybe at your company, right under your nose. I’ll call it “Not-My-Jobism.”

Once, I walked into my office and saw a whole bag of trash outside in the hallway. You want me to say I did something about it. I want to say that, too, but I didn’t. I mean, trash, and I’m in a suit. Eww. The next person to come in said, “Hey, can you believe they left last night’s trash out there? And it was heavy, too. The dumpster’s not so close when you’re carrying a big bag like that.”

Wake-up call for Kelly. It wasn’t this lady’s job, either, but it was gross for clients to see, and she wasn’t going to ignore it.

Do these things matter? Do they show? Is there an ROI to doing what needs to be done, even if it’s not your job?

Yes, Yes, Yes.

Wake-up call?

Grow and be well,

Kelly Erickson