Is the tenor of my voice unhearable to you?

Today's office interaction is brought to you by the folks at

Some Random Hearing Aid corporation

&

Maybe if I Use a Dog Whistle You'll Notice, Inc.

Timeline:
Month of November
Characters:
Lower Level: Frustrated lower level employee who fears her voice has been snatched away by The Gentlemen or some other lower level demon.

Upper Crust: Management level employee who has an insane ability to remember all your fuck ups but none of her own.

Totally Random: Management level employee of another department.

Just Trying To Help: Mid level employee, often caught in cross fire of Upper Crust and Lower Level.

Our story starts at the beginning of November where Lower Level, trying to juggle multiple projects, remembers with a start that another project (that they were late on last year) will be coming around the corner full speed any day now.

Lower Level: (gasps) Argh, we have to get this project review started or we will be late again! I know I'll go and check with Totally Random to find out the timeline and get this started!

Lower Level and Totally Random have a conversation and get a timeline worked out. Lower Level then takes said timeline back to Upper Crust and makes sure rest of team is aware.

A week passes.

Lower Level: Just wanted to remind you Upper Crust that the project review needs to be done by the end of this month. I know we are all super busy so let's work out a plan to make sure it gets done.

Upper Crust: I'll look at it next week when I get back.

Another week passes.

Lower Level: Umm, Upper Crust, have you had a chance to look at that project review? I just ask because with the holiday coming up we don't want to lose any time. Totally Random would like this as close to done as possible by week one of December!

Upper Crust: I'll look at it next week when I get back.

Lower Level: Well, I think I'll just get this started and send the project out to the team. Doesn't hurt to have it in everyone's hands since it's due the first week of December.

Lower Level sends project to team with instructions and explanations of time lines.

Another week passes making this the final week of November.

Lower Level sends out same email that she sent last week to team with a reminder that the project is due (gasp) the first week of December and can we please set up a plan for how we are going to accomplish this?

Holidays commence. Theoretically joy is had by all.

Lower Level returns to work and is in the middle of a meeting (that is not about previous mentioned project) with Just Trying To Help when Upper Crust walks up and interrupts.

Upper Crust: We don't need to have this project fully done this week right? (Visually scoffs) Totally Random just wants a base estimate, not a fully reviewed product correct? (Doubt of ability to get this done permeates speech patterns)

At this point Lower Level starts to wonder if maybe her voice is actually only audible to herself.

Just Trying To Help: It was my understanding that Totally Random did want this as close to done as possible by this week.

Upper Crust stutters, splutters, and stares at Lower Level in confusion. Lower Level just stares blankly back since all month she has already said This Project is Due as Close to Complete as Possible by the First Week of December for a month now so she's not quite sure repeating it now will help.

Upper Crust mutters something about not understanding Just Trying To Help's notes and wanders off. Leaving project no closer to completion. Lower Level and Just Trying To Help go back to original meeting they were having.

End Scene.

A random view into my office

I figure since you all can't be here to share with me the joys of my office I would try and randomly bring you episodes as I interpret them. Enjoy. Or mock. Or ignore. Whatever you want to do, for me it gave me 10 minutes away from my spreadsheet so I enjoyed writing it.

And in today's email in-box we find.....

Dear useless member of our team:

While looking through the database I came across a record that is wrong and decided to research what the rest of the file said. Upon discovering that the types of addresses were listed incorrectly instead of simply changing them from the simple drop down box in front of me I have constructed this irrationally long email explaining step by step what I did, what is wrong, and what I want you to do (which is go back into the record I am still probably in and change the types using that handy drop down box).

Sincerely,
Your Luddite supporting supervisor




....Okay, so maybe I am overreacting here from a simple email request (at least it wasn't printed out and brought to me this time), maybe it's time for me to let it go, but crafting these blog posts about it are just so much more fun!

Welcome to my Office

A Typical Office Interaction

Brought to you by JJ

The Corporation that brought you Jaded and Tired of My Job

(All conversations slightly modified to get across the true sentiment of speaker and listener)

Because it's not really there unless you print it

Tuesday, 10:45 AM:
Supervisor approaches my desk after a meeting, waving piece of paper in my general direction and says "I found this on the server, but I don't really know where, man is that thing disorganized! Too bad I don't' actually have any constructive ideas on how to fix it, maybe stating it repeatedly will clean it up...but anyway, here is something that was started by someone at some point and you should use this to update the process we talked about."

Supervisor continues to wave printed out piece of paper at me as though through the magic of seeing the paper I will psychically know what and where this document can be found. I start to think (yes, not even start to ask, but start to think) of asking, "Couldn't you have emailed me a link to where that was?" but think better of it since engaging the beast for longer than necessary will surely flare up either my ulcers or my hankering for a cold stiff drink.

I instead say "Okay, I'll do that" offering no further engagement to paper waving supervisor. Supervisor stands for just as many moments as it takes to be socially awkward and then shuffles back to office to probably print more random things found throughout the mystery that is our server.

I go back to listening to Pandora and think about finding that document but instead start blogging while all the time thinking, yes, this is my life.

I'm amazed I don't just drink all day

This is why I drink at night....

Step One: Email is sent to Program Coordinator (that's me!) from Board member with some random question.
Step Two: Program Coordinator sends said email to a un-named Manager with intro question "Do you want to reply to this, or do you want me to?"
Step Three: Manager replies with "I will - please forward her email so I can respond"
Step Four: Program Coordinator calls Manager, confused, and asks, "what do you mean - forward the email? As in something different than the email I just sent you?"
Step Five: Manager says "Why don't you forward me the original email, so it doesn't have your question on it and I can reply to it that way"
Step Six: Program Coordinator replies (dumbfounded) "Okay"
Step Seven: Program Coordinator silently shakes head as she thinks about the forwarding/replying email process. Knowing that Manager is going to have to use the forward function on her email regardless of which version it is. Program Coordinator then comes to the conclusion that apparently it's just too difficult for the Manager to delete the intro.
Step Eight: Program Coordinator takes break outside while contemplating job options.

To wash or not to wash

So imagine you find yourself in a community space, say like a work kitchen, that everyone is supposed to take responsibility for. But like many, many volumes of sociological texts that have been written on the subject, you find yourself in a Tragedy of the Commons situation. Particularly when it comes to the dishes.

Let's say you have a system that contains community dishes but every person is responsible for washing the dishes that they use. The office space contains a nice drying rack to aid you in this task. The problem arises when it comes to the responsibility of emptying said drying rack. No one is specifically assigned to it, so no one really does it.

As an individual who has dishes to wash, finding a full drying rack is often annoying. But being the good, community minded individual you are, you take it upon yourself to empty it so you can a) wash your own dishes and b) make room for others.

Enter dilemma. As you are emptying the rack you come across a dish that is not what you would deem clean. This isn't one of those subjective kinds of clean either, it's still got food stuck to it. Granted it's kind of clear, but it is food none the less. And, since you have eaten out for lunch everyday this week, you know that it wasn't yours to begin with.

Do you
A) Rewash said dish
B) Leave in drying rack for someone else to deal with
C) Put away in cupboard, pretending you never saw it

Get by with a little help from my friends

Many of my inner circle these days are finding themselves fighting the good (though not always profitable) fight to make the world a better/safer/cleaner and generally less fucked up place to be in. As part of this world I am often sending and receiving fundraising emails and I do my best to support when I can (because I know how much it can suck). So when a friend who specializes in community organizing (and I will avoid the Palin references for today) sent this out I was pretty impressed and went right through the link to make my donation. It's, in my opinion, a damn fine ask. It probably helps if you actually know Tim, or have lived in probably any number of college towns that get over run by mini-skirts and furry boots sometime in September, but either way I wanted to share it here in case any of you are so inclined to help out.

With no further ado I bring you......



Hi everyone,

It's fall, which means a few things:

1. The leaves change color, as do the colors of Tim's sweater vests.

2. The temperature starts to drop, and we start to see more furry boots out and about (especially on campus).

3. I'm busy busy busy getting ready for the GSA for Safe Schools Walk/Run/Eat.

This year, I've set a personal goal of trying to raise $500 for the event. Fundraising is the thing I like LEAST about being a community organizer, but I recognize that we wouldn't be able to do the work that we do without bringing in the Benjamins. That's just one of our MANY responsibilities.

In my head, $500 feels like a lot, but if I send this email to 50 people (which I have) and they all donate $10, I will have reached my goal. And $10 can go a really long way at my organization.

With $10, GSA for Safe Schools can:

1. Buy tasty and nutritious snacks to feed our Student Planning Council (the group of super peers who come to our office once a week and help us plan our conferences and programming)

2. Buy enough gas for my car to visit the GSAs at ALL FOUR Madison high schools (and possibly a couple of middle schools, too!)

3. Send a 'Welcome Back to School' packet with posters, stickers, and handy resources to 5 GSAs outside of Dane County (we'll send out a total of 100 this fall - one to each GSA in Wisconsin)

So, while the GSAFE Board of Directors is bragging about their big $100-dollar donations, I'd like to offer them some competition by bringing in the most $10 donations.


Can you help me out?

You can visit my personal fundraising page at http://www.firstgiving.com/thexteam and donate online, or send a check or cash to GSA for Safe Schools, 301 S. Bedford St. Ste. 1, Madison, WI 53703. Make sure you send it with an ATTN: TIM MICHAEL on the envelope so Brian and Cindy don't try and claim it. :)

Thanks, as always, for all your support. If anyone feels like coming to the event, you can also sign up online by going to http://www.firstgiving.com/gsaforsafeschools. I won't be able to walk/run with you, but I'll make sure to stop running around for at least eleven and a half seconds to say 'HELLO' and 'THANKS FOR COMING' and give you a hug.

Lots of love,

Tim

Part time jobs

Warning: This post contains slightly strong language.

Some fucked up shit happens in Chicago every day (so much for the self censoring). This time it has happened to someone I know. Of course the version I got was much more detailed, but since it's not my story to tell I won't divulge any more than the article lays out for you here. The short of it is the teachers in this school (my friend included) will be receiving their last paychecks on Friday. Bam. That's it. No warning, no preparation. Just a big fuck you from the charter school system. So if anyone knows of a good, relaxing, non stressful part time summer job that needs to be filled in the Chicago vicinity please feel free to let me know. Or if you have a connection with a school in the area that won't fuck it's teachers over - that would also be helpful.

I can't even imagine what it is like to not have a paycheck when I am legally employed. I've heard of these stories, even had friends that worked in slightly shady situations where paychecks were less than dependable, but never have I lived through it myself. Every job I've had it has been as regular as the sun rising that I would receive a paycheck every other week, or the first and the fifteenth, or whatever schedule the structure determined. I've never worked a job based on commission - the closest I've been is waitressing, but even then I got my $2.34 an hour (though after taxes it often wasn't worth it to pay the $5 fee to cash at the bank across the street if you didn't have an account somewhere else). It boggles my mind in a way that I can't begin to grasp, and I don't like that.

The logical, idea forming side of my brain has to believe that a plan will be worked out. Concessions will be made and lives may be altered for the next few months, but in the end she will make it. Thank god it's summer and the idea of walking places is not so formidable. The other side of me, the side that is ruled by my heart and my emotions though is wrecked. That side just doesn't understand how crazy, fucked up shit like this happens to good people. People who go out and try and make a difference in this crazy fucked up world.

So, I've had my rant - mini as it may be. Thanks for reading/listening and again, if you have a dog that needs walking or some other gig that you know of, feel free to let me know and I will pass along the information.

Turns out my day ain't that bad after all

I was going to post about how crazy ass busy I have been the past two weeks. I was going to moan and whine about how I keep finding myself trapped in my cubicle at 5:30, 6:30, 7:45 (I am normally scheduled to leave at 4:30). There was planned a commentary on how at the bottom of the ladder "salary" just means less pay and more hours. I had a good vent session ready to go. But then I scanned my regular reads and found this from Schmidlap and it all went out the window. Nothing I could even dream of coming up with could compare, suddenly the late nights, the empty train rides, and the aching muscles didn't matter anymore. No day I have lived this week, last week, or in recent memory could be worse. So next time you're feeling bad, give it a read and I guarantee your day will seem filled with sunshine and rainbows. I also guarantee you will wish blogs came with a PO box to send some kind of pick-me-up six pack to.



So instead, I will share with you some highlights of this week and the upcoming days ahead...upcoming, ahead, is that repetitive?

Earlier this week a coworker and I are pretty sure the couple in the elevator with us was about to have sex...while we were still there, and are almost positive that they did have sex in the stairwell after they left us. Yesterday I played rock, paper, scissors with a different co-worker to see who would be responsible for doing follow up calls to secure prizes for our upcoming benefit. I won. I now firmly believe all delegation of work responsibilities should be handled in this manner. Monday my awareness walking friend called me twice on the train to get my opinion on dresses she found for me at the Salvation Army for the upcoming James Bond fundraiser she's hosting. Most of the conversation revolved around the fact that I couldn't actually see the dresses and that no, I didn't know what a Limited size 7 meant. Didn't matter - the one she found (and bought) fits like a glove and is adorable, I may even be able to find a way to wear my favorite velvet Chuckies with it...and if I'm really luck I can incorporate my new fingerless pink gloves with the rhinestoned skull and crossbones pattern. Did you know that according to Google spellcheck (and probably the rest of the world) that "rhinestoned" is not a word?

This weekend (and Monday) is the wrap up of March Madness, and while it's disappointing to have four #1 seeds in the Final Four I am still way more excited than I should be for the last three games. Next weekend I get to deal black jack (as soon as I learn how) to help my friends raise money and one of my closest, dearest friends is coming down from Madison to visit - all around fun times. I have a new comic book series to delve into and it's supposed to be 60 degrees this weekend. All in all as 4:30 approaches and I slow down in my work it looks like it's going to be a good next few days.

Small surprises

As many of you know I have been unhappy with my job for awhile now. The job, plus my unease of staying in Chicago for another year, and my slow hibernation process as winter sets in combined to make me a relatively depressed person as of late. Deep down I knew this, but I was unaware it was showing on the outside as well. This past Friday I was delightfully shown this fact.

I went out to what I thought was a quick Friday after work happy hour with one coworker and ended up at a "Yay Jessica" party. It was fantastic, overwhelming, and amazingly heartwarming. Two other coworkers joined us to make a party of four and they presented me with a card and a surprisingly large gift to my favorite book store. The card, signed by one more coworker that couldn't make it to bring the total to 4 that cared about me, was filled with encouraging and supportive statements (which I had to read at home because as I knew it would it brought me to tears). It was a humbling experience to say the least. I had no idea that this group of women, who for the most part I usually just thought of as coworkers, noticed this much about me, cared this much about me, and went out of their way to make sure I knew it. I learned that night that I am not the only one who feels the slings and arrows of upper management, I am not the only one overwhelmed at times by the odds against me, and I am not the only one struggling these days. The most important thing I learned is that I am not alone. There is no way to properly thank them, to express truly and fully how amazing and perfectly timed that night out was, though I will do my best to try. It's amazing what 2 hours out with a group of friends can do to revitalize ones spirit. I am truly thankful for them.

Friday afternoons

4:08 pm on a Friday in my office. All around me lights are off, offices are dark as people slowly slip out to the weekend. For those that are still technically "on the clock" some are on extended, late lunch/errand hours, others quietly close their doors and I hear the whoosh of the compressed air can as they kill time by cleaning out their keyboards. Others gather on opposite sides of the offices, with their laughter clearly identifying them as not working (no non-profit work is that entertaining!) ringing around the empty corridors. Some of us blog about random nothingness trying to coast away the last few moments till a buttoned up coat and hat are justifiable.

4:13 on a Friday afternoon and phones are picked up to make calls to loved ones, finalizing last minute weekend plans, comparing shopping lists and the amazing finds they've found. The laughter from the other side of the office still rings through every now and then. It's an oddly balanced group that is one person away from being tipped into guilt and back into work. Bloggers are still blogging with nothing still to say. Soon I will head into my email to check it one more time (hotmail that is, not my work one), take a swing through Facebook to see if anyone has updated their status message to something entertaining, and glance at the online cover of the Tribune to make sure Chicago hasn't burned down while I was daydreaming.

4:23 time to start the pack up and head out motions....have a great weekend!

Humor leads to a better day...that and it's now the weekend for me.

Totally stolen from my friends blog. To see the full version go to his webpage, it's fantastic. And thanks to all the well wishers today after yesterday's gloomy post. There is hope outside these walls after all, thanks for the reminder.

527 Days

One year, five months, twelve days. This is how long it took for me to find myself leaning against the stall door of my work bathrooms crying into my sweater. One year, five months, twelve days.