Truth Comes in Blows

In the Saul Bellow novel, "Henderson The Rain King", the protagonist, Gene Henderson, spends much of the time searching for an answer for the little, persistent voice inside his head that says I want, I want.
In one scene, he is chopping wood and a chunk of oak pops up and gives him a bloody nose.
He experiences an instant epiphany wherein the Truth is revealed to him. He declares that "Truth comes in blows".

I recently experienced a similar, painful sudden insight. I was navigating in the dark, after a late session watching college championship football. Three Dewars and two beers had clouded my usually sharp radar, and I stubbed a middle toe on the bedpost as I aimed for "my" side in the unlighted wee hours.
I do not think I was actually thinking of anything important at the time. Most likely, I was silently regretting that I had to get up and go to work at the Hellhole in just a few hours. Then, in the numbing ache of a banged-up digit, a new and wonderful perception came to me.

As you know, for most of the duration of my current gig, I have been complaining about the micromanaging project manager. I castigated him (behind his back, of course) for being a hovering, meddling annoyance. I criticized him for holding long and boring meetings while he tediously grilled someone on the conference call because he did not understand things that the rest of us found simple and comprehensible. I accused him of malfeasance for insisting on slavish attendance at those dumb and unproductive status and "planning" meetings, not letting us get to work so we could actually do our jobs. I observed that the more involved he became, the more apathetic and disengaged I (and others) became. At problem-solving sessions, he would not listen to us when we offered facts or proposed solutions. He made many bad decisions which later had to be corrected.

After a while, we just accepted the situation and let him make all the decisions and assume all the responsibility. This was his impression of management. We were getting paid the same as if we were actually accomplishing something. Why get frustrated or angry?

Sure, it was the easiest thing to do. And for the past six months I have enjoyed a pretty good gig, being well-paid and having to invest nothing other than some face time and an odious commute. But, getting back to the point of this: The Truth that came to me in a sudden flash is I should be thankful for his micromanaging.
If he had not turned me off, I'd have become invested in the project. I'd have made commitments and would have tried hard to meet them. Heck, I might have gotton interested in the challenges instead of shirking them. I might even have worked overtime instead of going in late and going home after 6 or 7 hours. And it would all have been in vain, for this is truly the worst system I have ever seen!

Thank you, Micromanager. You are my hero. If I am still there when your ulcers are better, I vow to take you out and buy you a beer.