I was made a boss in my early twenties, way too young for anyone to be a boss. I was preoccupied with proving myself to my bosses, instead of trying to help my employees be the best they could be. It therefore irritated me when someone wasn’t especially good at her job, and didn’t care to get better. I had no patience for mediocrity.
As the years went on, and more and more people worked for me, I still became frustrated by so-so employees. Those who were lazy and careless, and didn’t write or sell well, weren’t too crazy about me, either. My expectations were no secret. I adored hard-working, driven employees, gave them big raises and publicly applauded their accomplishments.
BTW, I demanded from myself as much as I demanded from others, so I was either driving myself or someone else crazy at all times.
Eventually, I learned to be a better manager, but I’ve never enjoyed that role. I’d rather be part of a team of great players than be in charge of a fair team. My ability to patiently explain things is limited. That gene comes from my dad. If he was helping me with homework and I didn’t grasp a concept right off the bat, he’d become exasperated with me.
I may be more tolerant of others who don’t do everything the way I think it should be done, but I still have my limits.