Early last week, Julie Le, a Department of Homeland Security attorney, stood before Judge Jerry Blackwell in U.S. District Court in St. Paul, MN. An exhausted Le had been assigned 91 immigration cases over the previous month, including 88 in Minnesota. Now she was getting an earful from the federal judge.
Blackwell was displeased. “A court order is not advisory, and it is not conditional,” he admonished. The department had routinely not been following court mandates, ignoring judicial release orders while holding immigrant detainees for days or even weeks longer. “The overwhelming majority of the hundreds [of individuals] seen by this court have been found to be lawfully present as of now in the country,” said Blackwell.
Exasperated, Le responded in a way that struck a chord with many of us.
“This job sucks. And I am trying [with] every breath that I have so that I can get you what you need,” she said. “Sometimes I wish you would just hold me in contempt, Your Honor, so that I can have a full 24 hours of sleep.”
For a brief moment, Julie Le was a sprit animal to so many. And, in short order, she was no longer detailed to the U.S. attorney’s office. A DHS spokesperson later called Le’s conduct, “unprofessional and unbecoming of an ICE attorney in abandoning her obligation to act with commitment, dedication, and zeal to the interests of the United States Government.”
déjà vu all over Again
We’ve all been there. When I read the initial reports of Le’s comments and the subsequent aftermath, I couldn’t help but think of all the times I’ve shared similar feelings. Some days, all you can do is hold the oar and pray for a better day tomorrow.
Those who have experienced such shared misery understand Le’s exasperation. If there’s a wellspring for dark humor, it exists somewhere at the intersection of thankless tasks and unreasonable leaders. Your reward for good work is not recognition, but more work. Work that is neither valued nor important. It’s just work. And if you work for the government, well… it gets worse before it gets better.
I’ve been there. It’s not fun.
The day before the 2012 election, someone in the embassy where I worked had the bright idea of inviting every single senior military leader to an election night reception to educate them on our process. Even as I explained that none of them were remotely interested and that even fewer would appreciate the last-minute invitation, my protests fell on deaf ears. “Just get it done.” The event was an abject failure and you know who got the blame.
I think I may have said “This job sucks” more than a few times myself.
The Initech Dilemma
The 1999 Mike Judge film, Office Space, is a MasterClass on the challenges of contending with a job you hate. It’s 90 minutes of navigating job hell through the eyes of a litany of miserable employees. A quarter century before Julia Le declared, “This job sucks,” Peter Gibbons delivered an equally iconic line: “I was sitting in my cubicle today, and I realized, ever since I started working, every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So that means that every single day that you see me, that’s on the worst day of my life.”
Peter eventually found a way out, as will Julie Le. But that doesn’t do much for you when you’re caught in the tsunami of workplace hell. Your job sucks. What are you going to do about it?
1. Keep your head down.
When the workplace is chaotic or toxic, survival sometimes comes before reform. Focus on doing your job well, avoid unnecessary drama, and protect your reputation.
2. Pick your battles.
Not every frustration necessitates confrontation. Save your energy for issues that truly matter or affect your integrity, rather than every annoying policy or personality.
3. Don’t burn the bridge you still have to cross.
Even if you’re miserable, professionalism matters. Your current boss, coworkers, or organization may still influence your references, opportunities, or reputation.
4. If you’re stuck in a hole, quit digging.
When a job is clearly wrong for you, don’t double down on the misery by investing more emotional energy than necessary. Recognize the situation and begin planning an exit strategy.
5. The grass isn’t greener – you have to water it.
Before assuming every other job is better, develop your skills, network, and mindset. A better opportunity usually comes from diligent preparation, not escape.
6. Always have an exit strategy.
Before you destroy the office printer, update your résumé, pulse your network, and explore your options. Quiet preparation gives you leverage and confidence to exit stage left.
7. Sometimes you have to quit the game to win.
Leaving a bad job isn’t failure – it can be the best decision you make. Walking away from a toxic or misaligned environment can restore your energy, integrity, and purpose
As Office Space comes to a close, Peter Gibbons is working on a construction crew removing debris from the now-destroyed Initech. With newfound contentedness, Peter exclaims, “This isn’t so bad, huh? Makin’ bucks, getting’ exercise, workin’ outside.” Julie Le made her escape from one level of hell, but that is probably short lived. She may not find nirvana in the same way that Peter Gibbons did, but I suspect we’ll hear from her again one day.
