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It was what I had worked most of my adult life to achieve. I was finally in a cushy job working for the state, with limitless opportunity before me.

Not only that, this job even paid most of my tuition as I finished the degree I should have gotten 20 years ago.

Of course it was not perfect. I had vowed to be less interpersonal, less ebullient, less... me. I had also vowed to never, ever again make reference to how fat or ugly I am or to refer to myself as “the lard”. Again, all adding up to being less “me”.

Things started off rather well. Working in a university setting is quite good camouflage in and of itself. My idiosyncrasies seemed rather small and insignificant to those around me and my job as a tech manager allowed me to bury myself in my work. I had some university students working for me, as well as one full time person for those times when I had no students upon which to call; but I made sure to get my hands dirty as much as possible.

Evidently, this was well noticed by the powers that be. I, however, was clueless. Between classes and making sure that everything tech was in the best of shape, I was in early and out late, often spending 80 hours a week or more on campus. So, when I was called into the Accounting office, I was very nervous.

The woman that called me in seemed very self-possessed and professional. She let me sit in the chair across from her desk for what seemed like hours, though I doubt it was really even 2 minutes. Determined to not wilt, I sat as still as possible and focused on her face with laser-beam directness. Which was quite hard, since she was wearing gorgeous shoes. I coveted them for myself, but since this was business, so was I.

When she finally turned to me, she squinted mildly and even gave me a bit of a once-over. I masked my surprise, as well as I could, with that same laser-beam directness and waited patiently. When she finally spoke, her voice was the silky smooth tones associated with 50s female film stars. “I suppose you know why you are here, don't you?”

This time, my mask wavered ever so slightly for just a moment. I refocused and answered “Ma'am, I have not a clue.”

The corners of her lips turned up minutely as she responded, “Mr. Thompson, your work here has been phenomenal, just to be brief. Complaints that have run for years have been solved. People who spoke most evilly of your department before now sing your praises. In fact, from what I have been able to piece together from your paperwork, not only are you responding to work orders, you have a proactive system of preventative measures in place to reduce the number of problems ever reported.”

She stopped and the silence became pregnant. I silently reviewed what she had told me so far and realized there was something left to tell. I could wait, thereby elongating the pause, or I could prod her along as gently as possible; “I sense 'but' coming in our conversation”.

The tiny quirk of her lips returned and she might have even been fighting an urge to have a real smile as she said, “So my research is true. I checked just a bit on your background. Everything I found said you are intelligent, funny, even bubbly. I also heard you described as more than capable, and probably a genius in your own right.” I started to sputter but before I could really get started, she waved me down. “I also heard you are painfully modest and have a pretty detractive self perception. Not only that, but somehow, you always made the people around you feel more empowered, more intelligent, and less threatened. The word trustworthy was used about you so many times it became a cliché.”

“What is bothering me now is that apparently, you have stopped relating to people and don't really seem to talk anymore. Your permanent staff person, Marty, and your student techs all think you can almost walk on water. Marty said you single handedly outwork the rest of the department combined, including himself. I checked the timestamps on some of your reports. Last week you worked almost 90 hours, less your meal and class times. I also checked your grades. You started the semester with over a 3.7 and if you keep going the way you are, that will improve. But, why don't you talk anymore?”

I thought for a moment before I replied, “I don't trust myself not to screw up a good thing so I keep my mouth shut, Ms. Spears. As much as possible, I try to let the results speak for themselves. After all, nothing means success like success.”

Her carefully shaped eyebrows rose in a manner of surprise as she said, “I do not understand at all. Your instructors think you are gifted. One of your former employers called you scary smart. Your student techs told me that more than once you answered the phone with the answer to the question they were calling you with before you even heard the question. One of our instructors told me that you fixed a projector for her so she could finish class and you corrected part of her lecture for her, though you did it by passing her a note rather than embarrassing her in front of her class.”

She seemed to be waiting for an answer so I shrugged and said, “I just thought I could help, but I did not want to disrupt her lecture any more than the projector had already done.”

All pretense of composure left her face. “She was lecturing on marketing. I checked and you have had no education in marketing. What's more, your point was entirely correct. How did you do that?”

I just managed to stifle a chuckle. “Ma'am, I have worked in retail off and on since I was 16. I have a degree from the school of hard work. What I gave her in there was not something from a book, it was from my life.”

She appeared to be mollified, if for the moment. “Well, we still need to get to the part where you start to relate to people. You evidently do pretty well in your classes overall but your instructors report you seem pretty stressed when you are put into groups for group work. You participate and contribute, but you are stiff and uncertain and somewhat withdrawn, from what I hear.”

I shrugged again. “I did not realize I put forth that appearance.”

She did not seem happy with that answer, or maybe that it was my only answer. “You deal fine with the team that works under you in your department. What is the difference?”

I collected my thoughts for a moment and replied, “I just tell them which job orders to do, and most of that is by text message. I give them the easiest ones, Marty the medium ones, and I take all the real problems. It does not work out like that 100% of the time, but that is my general approach.”

This time her eyebrows lowered. “So what you are telling me is you do not need to really communicate with your crew. I have looked over your reports and they are works of art. I heard you also started a knowledge base and that all fixes, problems, and procedures are entered into it religiously. Your crew also said you manage to check on each of them several times per day.”

She stopped and steepled her fingers and looked across her desk at me. “You obviously have some kind of inferiority complex. However, I have only the briefest education in counseling and psych so I am not going to try to hammer this out any further. I am directing you to see Marge Benson over at the Health Sciences Campus twice per week. Do not worry about how long it takes you away from your duties, this is deemed necessary for your continued sterling performance. Also, from now on, I want you to limit yourself to 45 hours per week on campus, besides what you need for classes and class related activities. You are too valuable a resource to burn you out with this 80 and 90 hours nonsense.”

She handed me a card. The front was a business card for Marge Benson. The back was an appointment blank that was already filled in with a date and time. Looking more closely, I realized I had less than two hours to make the appointment. I looked up to see Ms. Spears shooing me from her office. “I expect you to make all her scheduled appointments. Also, I will be calling you in from time to time to check on you myself. Now go, so you have time to button things down and get a good lunch before your appointment. I know you are too anal about your department to leave without making sure it is in the best shape possible before leaving the campus.” She shooed me again and I was gone.

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**Side note** I do not actually have this job but it is a distinct possibility. This is just a projection of my mind of how things might go.