Monday, August 24, 2009

Location, Location, Location

My management has their knickers in a knot about us being physically present in the office. I know this is a small thing to complain about when so many people don’t have jobs, but this asinine request is sitting in my craw.

For five years, I worked for a large corporation from my office at home. No carbon fuels used to get there, no contribution to highway jams; I didn’t risk my life riding alongside people who were putting on makeup or texting whilst wielding around their 2-3 ton vehicles at break neck speeds. And if I needed to talk to my ob/gyn every few months, I didn’t have to whisper or give my colleagues way more information than they care to have about my menstrual cycles.

Now, that company did not put this work-from-home policy in place just to please the likes of me. And frankly, I’m sure decreasing the company’s carbon footprint was not their prime directive either, although they did find a way to work it into their PR quite often. No, kids, they did this because it was CHEAP: they realized that real estate in Cupertino and New York and Singapore is expensive.

While I’m sure the company bigwigs wouldn’t care, this policy made people stick around. Not exactly loyalty, more a matter of convenience--the philosophy enabled a great work/life balance for us working slugs. We could have dinner with our families at reasonable hours, we could take an hour off to pick up our kids from school and log back in when they’d gone to sleep, we could in other words, have a life and have a job.

Enter current company: my management says that working from home is not in their plan. They want butts in seats. They frequently walk the aisles to do what we affectionately [sic] refer to as “bed checks.” They have, in my most humble opinion, this juvenile view that unless we worker bees are visibly working away at our desks, we’re goofing off. You know, us kids, we just can’t be trusted. I say, you trust people, they respond in kind. You treat them like children, well, you get what you ask for.

So I trudge in, trying not to rub bumpers with any of the idiots who are texting their friends about the traffic or reading the newspaper, just to get on the phone and talk to the people I work with in Australia, London, and Massachusetts. Or worse, I plop down at my teeny tiny desk in my itsy bitsy cubicle in the huge warehouse that I work in, just to hear my coworkers talk into their phones to their colleagues in Milan, Chicago, and Texas. It’s maddening. I can’t think. Sometimes I got off to what’s privacy booth, which is an airless enclosed room with a phone and an Ethernet drop. Kind of like a jail cell only not as nice.

In my old job, I was known for the work I did. I was promoted twice in five years because I got things done, had good relationships with people, and was generally known as the fabulous person you’ve come to know and love. Not because of how long I sat at my desk.

What do you think?

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Firedrills

Snakes alive, it happened again! I’m working away at last week’s action items when the call comes from on high: we’ve got an emergency! We need [fill in the damn blank]. It’s a different blank every time, but the urgency is always the same. Executive management is looking! Executive management needs this! Hurry!

Yours truly says, “I’m sorry, this seems stupid. Do I really need to drop everything to get this done?”

Kids, when will I learn? How will I ever be the geriatric marketing manager I need to be so that I can pay my son Vlad’s college expenses?

The furrowed brow, the tapping pen on the desk, that’s all I need from my boss to know that yes, I must! Now git!

So I git. I git so much that my head hurts. I scurry around like the little mouse that I am grabbing at straws for the big cheeses—Mush, mush!

I get statistics, I get bar charts, I get metrics galore. I put them into a report. I polish the report with snappy words and phrases. I find some graphics, I find some illustrations. I send it to her, I send it to him, I send it to all of them. And I wait. And I wait some more.

But no one ever says anything. No one ever reads the report. They’ve noticed a new shiny ball in front of their faces. They’ve got to look into this one now. What am I waiting for? Let’s get a move on! We need this, we need this now! What are you doing over there? We need you over here!

I think this is why god made vodka martinis and the people who drink them.

What do you think?

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Word of the Whenever results

No one seemed to like my great idea for a word of the whenever: rhubarb, as in “a heated dispute; brawl.” As in:

“People should get their domestic rhubarbs, verbal fisticuffs, and emotional jugular-snatching completely out of the way before they show up for a house tour." Richard Ford, Independence Day

Don’t you love it? [Fisticuffs, btw, is another favorite of mine. You’d be surprised how often I work it into everyday conversations.]

Sandy taunted me with: “Rhubarb pie is a little too tart for my taste.” And said her sentence was laden with hidden meaning. I think that means she was mad at me.

So I retorted with:

I know you did that on purpose, Sandy. Just trying to stir up a little neighborhood rhubarb, aren't you? ;)

Get it? See and the smiley face at the end showed that I’m not mad at her. Brilliant, no?

No one followed suit, tho, until Ricardo came up with his WOW: Mendacious - lying; untruthful; false. And submitted:

In her only vice-presidential debate, she was shallow, mendacious and phoney."
- Michelle Goldberg at guardian.co.uk on Sarah Palin

Any dig at Sarah Palin wins in my book [that woman scares the bejeezus out of me], but the winning entry has to be from Janette, who came up with:

The woebegone reveler cursed the bartender for the mendacious suggestion of a $30 Margarita which left her with a hang-over despite the price tag.

You’d had to have been there, which I was.

So Janette—send me your word!