Everyone at BCFG (The Big Cheese Financial Group) has a nickname (a real nickname, not the names that I've given them). My first name doesn't lend itself well to nicknames, so I've never had one. Lately Will has taken to calling me J-Weezey. I guess I should take this as I sign of fitting in? They have gone so far with nicknames in the office that the caller id for the phone says "Guy Shizzle" when Guy calls you.
I learned today that I'm going to get a name plate for my Triangle. BCFG is going through a "re-branding" process. (They really like to talk about how their new brand is "modern" and "young." To me, it just looks like they are using a different font for everything, but then I am not a marketer.) Anyway, everyone has little name plates outside their office doors that have the logo on them and then say "Mr. X" or whatever. These all have to be replaced so they can be re-branded with the new logo. K is getting a name plate for her desk, which makes sense, as she is the first thing that you see when you walk in the door. I am getting one too, which does not make sense because any client that wonders over to my Triangle is seriously lost. Will is the one in charge of the re-brand and he came to tell me about my name plate today--hopefully I was appropriately excited about it. He said I might even get business cards out of the deal. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I've had business cards since I was 22 and they stopped being exciting about 6 months after I got them.
Today also brought a new level of The Big Cheese's anal-ness. Recently I've been doing a lot of paperwork that required his signature. When you want him to sign something you have to put those little "sign here" sticky notes, so he doesn't have to read the whole page to find out where to sign. I knew about the notes, so I have been including those, however I have been putting them on wrong. Today he brought me back some pages that he had signed and showed me how my sticky note misplacement had caused problems. He can't be bothered to remove the sticky notes and he had written over some of them because I hadn't placed them close to the edge. I'm supposed to remember that for next time. I'll work on that.
Mental Health Update: I'm actually feeling pretty good now--I've gone back to feeling kind of "on the verge" of something instead of the full blown depression that I was having over the weekend. I think that the dosage change on my medication has helped. (It's been almost 2 weeks now, so I should start to feel a difference if it's going to work.) Getting up and going to work has helped too. Working at home allowed me to wallow, which wasn't good. Now I have to get up, get dressed and act normal every day. While the acting normal part was really hard at the beginning of the week I think that it helped. There is something to that adage where they tell you to act happy and you'll feel happy.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Please Don't Tap on the Glass
When I started working at The Big P there was no room for me in the office, so I hung out in a conference room for the summer. (At the end of the summer we moved to a new building and I got my own office with a door that didn't lock.) The conference room that I was in was glass on three sides, with blinds down over the glass, and it stuck out into the office atrium. We were in a really nice office building and you had to walk past my office to get to the little deli. I spent that summer studying for my Series 7 and 63 exams. For reasons I can't explain, people would rattle their keys along my giant glass windows as they walked past on their way to the deli. Eventually I got fed up and made a "Please Don't Tap on the Glass" sign, which I stuck on the window (with a Post-It Note) between the glass and the blinds. After that it was lots of fun to hear people speculate on why that sign was there and what wouldn't want you to tap on the glass.
I write about my "Please Don't Tap on the Glass" note because I'd like to put another note on my desk now. This one would say "I am not an imbecile." There are two things coming into play here. The first is the fact that when I'm having a bipolar episode I have a very short temper. The second is that Mole thinks I am an imbecile and it's driving me INSANE! Mole has been the best so far at passing off work to me, which is good. However, that means I have to listen to him repeat every day what has been going on with the client. How do you tell someone (that is your superior) that you're capable of remembering what you did in the previous 24 hours? Mole acts like this is an impossible task and always wants to "fill me in on a case." (His use of the word "case" bugs me too because we aren't selling insurance--they are clients. Anyway...) Mole also feels the need to keep me informed with his up to the minute schedule. If I need to know where Mole is at any given time I can look at his calendar. I really don't need to know where he is--I just need to know when he wants his tasks completed--something that he doesn't tell me with all his "filling me in." I can't tell if Mole wants me to think that he is really busy and important and that's why he's telling me about all his appointments, or if he thinks I care. (See what a bad attitude I have.)
I am dreading tomorrow. The Godfather asked if I was putting together meeting minutes for anyone yet. I've done them for Mr. X three times now, so I told him that I was. The Godfather said that he didn't think that I'd be able to make sense out of his notes, so he'd dictate them for me. I've become a person who transcribes dictation.
In case anyone was wondering, now that The Big Cheese is back Guy is wearing real clothes again, instead of basketball shorts and t-shirts. I don't know if this means that his leg has healed (or at least gotten a "good scab," since that's what he was wanting), or if he just knows that The Big Cheese would not appreciate his inappropriate attire.
I write about my "Please Don't Tap on the Glass" note because I'd like to put another note on my desk now. This one would say "I am not an imbecile." There are two things coming into play here. The first is the fact that when I'm having a bipolar episode I have a very short temper. The second is that Mole thinks I am an imbecile and it's driving me INSANE! Mole has been the best so far at passing off work to me, which is good. However, that means I have to listen to him repeat every day what has been going on with the client. How do you tell someone (that is your superior) that you're capable of remembering what you did in the previous 24 hours? Mole acts like this is an impossible task and always wants to "fill me in on a case." (His use of the word "case" bugs me too because we aren't selling insurance--they are clients. Anyway...) Mole also feels the need to keep me informed with his up to the minute schedule. If I need to know where Mole is at any given time I can look at his calendar. I really don't need to know where he is--I just need to know when he wants his tasks completed--something that he doesn't tell me with all his "filling me in." I can't tell if Mole wants me to think that he is really busy and important and that's why he's telling me about all his appointments, or if he thinks I care. (See what a bad attitude I have.)
I am dreading tomorrow. The Godfather asked if I was putting together meeting minutes for anyone yet. I've done them for Mr. X three times now, so I told him that I was. The Godfather said that he didn't think that I'd be able to make sense out of his notes, so he'd dictate them for me. I've become a person who transcribes dictation.
In case anyone was wondering, now that The Big Cheese is back Guy is wearing real clothes again, instead of basketball shorts and t-shirts. I don't know if this means that his leg has healed (or at least gotten a "good scab," since that's what he was wanting), or if he just knows that The Big Cheese would not appreciate his inappropriate attire.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Well, that's good to know...
Let me start by saying, I've never been happier to go to work than I was this morning. It was really good to leave my house. I'm feeling a little better today; I can't tell if it was work or if the medicine is starting to kick in, but I'm grateful.
I discovered a difference between The Big Cheese and The Man today. For all of The Man's faults, he like to have long chats. I actually liked the chats (unless I was really busy.) The Big Cheese doesn't chat. Today I was in his office and our conversation veered toward chatting, but then he said "lets get back on task." He really said that--I felt like I was back in third grade.
I also discovered today that Will thinks that the office decorations are cheesy too. The microwave is on my side of the office and today at lunch time Will was microwaving his Ramen Noodles (incedentally, the Ramen Noodles smelled really good--much better than my peanut butter sandwich) and he was making fun of all the Spring decorations that Mama X has put around the office. I don't think I've described this one before, but there is this very round ceramic bunny (it kind of looks like a ball with ears) in the bathroom, next to the vase of giant fake daffodils. Will has decided that we are going to play "hide the bunny" throughout the office. Today it was hidden in Guy's office--Guy had not found it by the time I left this afternoon. This is going to drive Mama X, with her OCD, insane tomorrow. Will also clued me in to some decorating for the other holidays. I'm most looking forward to the little heart confetti that she leaves all over the place for Valentine's day. I was very glad to hear that I'm not the only one who thinks that Spring is crazy.
I discovered a difference between The Big Cheese and The Man today. For all of The Man's faults, he like to have long chats. I actually liked the chats (unless I was really busy.) The Big Cheese doesn't chat. Today I was in his office and our conversation veered toward chatting, but then he said "lets get back on task." He really said that--I felt like I was back in third grade.
I also discovered today that Will thinks that the office decorations are cheesy too. The microwave is on my side of the office and today at lunch time Will was microwaving his Ramen Noodles (incedentally, the Ramen Noodles smelled really good--much better than my peanut butter sandwich) and he was making fun of all the Spring decorations that Mama X has put around the office. I don't think I've described this one before, but there is this very round ceramic bunny (it kind of looks like a ball with ears) in the bathroom, next to the vase of giant fake daffodils. Will has decided that we are going to play "hide the bunny" throughout the office. Today it was hidden in Guy's office--Guy had not found it by the time I left this afternoon. This is going to drive Mama X, with her OCD, insane tomorrow. Will also clued me in to some decorating for the other holidays. I'm most looking forward to the little heart confetti that she leaves all over the place for Valentine's day. I was very glad to hear that I'm not the only one who thinks that Spring is crazy.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
This is my life
Today after the Husband said that I was in "a mood" I decided to tell him that I wasn't feeling well again. All he said was "well, that explains a lot."
Friday, March 25, 2011
Um....
Today was hard and I don't have a lot to tell that is amusing.
Last night at 8:30 I took two sleeping pills (which is an allowed dosage, don't get worried) and slept last night. I could definitely use more sleep like that and my plan is to do the same thing tonight, once the Husband gets home. (I won't take sleeping pills when I'm home alone with Sweet Pea.)
I worked a lot with Mr. X today. After working for The Man, who was an extremely volatile person (and not very most of the time), I can't get over how nice Mr. X is. Honestly, everyone at The Big Cheese Financial Group is really nice. The Big Cheese has put together a good crew. However, everyone has their quirks. Today I learned some more... In addition to liking paper clips in the upper left hand corner, The Big Cheese like commas. (I also like commas and think that I over use them, but I'm nothing compared to The Big Cheese.) Since it's The Big Cheese's company, he can tell everyone how to use their commas. For example, I was taught that when writing "there were red, blue, and green shirts" that you could omit the comma between "blue" and "and." Not so in The Big Cheese's world--he wants that comma there. Mr. X also has some quirks of his own and is very minimal with his writing. He does not like the use of "that" in a sentence. A big part of my job is going to be writing for (and as if I am) Mr. X, so getting used to leaving out the "that's" will be hard. Right now there is a big Post-It note on my desk that says "Don't use THAT."
I worked on my first project for The Godfather today. True to form, once I had it done and went to look for him to see what he wanted next he was gone (and no one had seen him leave).
I thought that I was feeling okay today. I made it through work without a lot of trouble. I think that must have used up most of my mental stamina for the day. After work Sweet Pea and I went to the grocery store. (I took her to the fancy one that has child care so I could shop alone, which pissed off the Husband, but I don't care.) I was in the store shopping and the overwhelming sadness hit like a big wave when I was in the cereal isle. Since then I've been trying not to cry. I would go ahead and give in, except I know from experience that crying doesn't do any good and I usually feel worse afterwords.
Two other nasty side effects of this illness are irritability and a lack of concentration. Anyone with young children will understand that they irritate you a lot of the time anyway. I hate how much Sweet Pea irritates me and how I react towards her during these times. I wish that she was old enough to understand that I'm not feeling well. I do tell her, but to her being sick is something like having a cold. The concentration issues are really hard too and that's why two summers ago I needed to take the 12 weeks off of work. Tonight was Sweet Pea's ballet class, which I usually look forward to, but today it was driving me crazy. There was too much movement and noise and it felt like the kids were not paying attention and that all the parents were louder than usual. I wanted to put my hands over my ears and scream. I am glad to be home now and also that it is the weekend, so there isn't anything to do for two days.
One last thing--don't feel bad if you're a person that I talk to regularly and I'm not talking about this stuff. It is hard to talk about and much easier to just write down.
Last night at 8:30 I took two sleeping pills (which is an allowed dosage, don't get worried) and slept last night. I could definitely use more sleep like that and my plan is to do the same thing tonight, once the Husband gets home. (I won't take sleeping pills when I'm home alone with Sweet Pea.)
I worked a lot with Mr. X today. After working for The Man, who was an extremely volatile person (and not very most of the time), I can't get over how nice Mr. X is. Honestly, everyone at The Big Cheese Financial Group is really nice. The Big Cheese has put together a good crew. However, everyone has their quirks. Today I learned some more... In addition to liking paper clips in the upper left hand corner, The Big Cheese like commas. (I also like commas and think that I over use them, but I'm nothing compared to The Big Cheese.) Since it's The Big Cheese's company, he can tell everyone how to use their commas. For example, I was taught that when writing "there were red, blue, and green shirts" that you could omit the comma between "blue" and "and." Not so in The Big Cheese's world--he wants that comma there. Mr. X also has some quirks of his own and is very minimal with his writing. He does not like the use of "that" in a sentence. A big part of my job is going to be writing for (and as if I am) Mr. X, so getting used to leaving out the "that's" will be hard. Right now there is a big Post-It note on my desk that says "Don't use THAT."
I worked on my first project for The Godfather today. True to form, once I had it done and went to look for him to see what he wanted next he was gone (and no one had seen him leave).
I thought that I was feeling okay today. I made it through work without a lot of trouble. I think that must have used up most of my mental stamina for the day. After work Sweet Pea and I went to the grocery store. (I took her to the fancy one that has child care so I could shop alone, which pissed off the Husband, but I don't care.) I was in the store shopping and the overwhelming sadness hit like a big wave when I was in the cereal isle. Since then I've been trying not to cry. I would go ahead and give in, except I know from experience that crying doesn't do any good and I usually feel worse afterwords.
Two other nasty side effects of this illness are irritability and a lack of concentration. Anyone with young children will understand that they irritate you a lot of the time anyway. I hate how much Sweet Pea irritates me and how I react towards her during these times. I wish that she was old enough to understand that I'm not feeling well. I do tell her, but to her being sick is something like having a cold. The concentration issues are really hard too and that's why two summers ago I needed to take the 12 weeks off of work. Tonight was Sweet Pea's ballet class, which I usually look forward to, but today it was driving me crazy. There was too much movement and noise and it felt like the kids were not paying attention and that all the parents were louder than usual. I wanted to put my hands over my ears and scream. I am glad to be home now and also that it is the weekend, so there isn't anything to do for two days.
One last thing--don't feel bad if you're a person that I talk to regularly and I'm not talking about this stuff. It is hard to talk about and much easier to just write down.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Unhinged
Forgive me in advance for sounding like a drama queen.
So, the thing that I've been dreading happened tonight and my depression has caught up with me. I was wrong this time and I thought that it would be maina, but instead I have its evil twin. I can tell you the exact moment that it happened--I went to the mall tonight to return some stuff that didn't match with with other stuff and I was driving home and was overcome with sadness. If you've never had this feeling, I don't really know how to discribe it. It sort of feels like drowning in this big pool of nothing. You are completely overcome and are working to tread water to keep from going under.
I saw my doctor on Tuesday and he adjusted my medications. I'm not currently taking an antidepressent, just a mood stabolizer and an antipsychotic (and yes, the fact that I need to be on an antipsychotic scares the shit out of me on a daily basis). I need to give this current dosage change about 2 weeks and if I don't feel any better, I'll call the doctor and he will probably add in an antidepressent. I'm due to see him again in a month, regardless.
I was really hoping that I was going to avoid a major episode this Spring because I was being proactive. I hate feeling like this. In addition to the depression there is a huge amount of guilt that comes with being a mother because I know that I'm not the best mother during these times. Because guilt is a downward spiral, I also start to worry about my crappy genes and wonder if I passed this on to Sweet Pea. (There is definately a genetic link in my family--I am positive that my dad is bipolar, as is my sister and there are other relatives that may have been.)
My plan for right now is to take something to help me sleep, even though it's only 8:00, and hope that with some rest the morning's outlook will have improved.
Excuse my language, but I fucking hate this. (Sometimes it feels good to say the "f" word.)
So, the thing that I've been dreading happened tonight and my depression has caught up with me. I was wrong this time and I thought that it would be maina, but instead I have its evil twin. I can tell you the exact moment that it happened--I went to the mall tonight to return some stuff that didn't match with with other stuff and I was driving home and was overcome with sadness. If you've never had this feeling, I don't really know how to discribe it. It sort of feels like drowning in this big pool of nothing. You are completely overcome and are working to tread water to keep from going under.
I saw my doctor on Tuesday and he adjusted my medications. I'm not currently taking an antidepressent, just a mood stabolizer and an antipsychotic (and yes, the fact that I need to be on an antipsychotic scares the shit out of me on a daily basis). I need to give this current dosage change about 2 weeks and if I don't feel any better, I'll call the doctor and he will probably add in an antidepressent. I'm due to see him again in a month, regardless.
I was really hoping that I was going to avoid a major episode this Spring because I was being proactive. I hate feeling like this. In addition to the depression there is a huge amount of guilt that comes with being a mother because I know that I'm not the best mother during these times. Because guilt is a downward spiral, I also start to worry about my crappy genes and wonder if I passed this on to Sweet Pea. (There is definately a genetic link in my family--I am positive that my dad is bipolar, as is my sister and there are other relatives that may have been.)
My plan for right now is to take something to help me sleep, even though it's only 8:00, and hope that with some rest the morning's outlook will have improved.
Excuse my language, but I fucking hate this. (Sometimes it feels good to say the "f" word.)
Mr. Cellophane
Today was another very boring day in my triangle. I had very little to do and spent lots of time reading things on the Internet. Unfortunately, I feel like I'm being "watched," so I have to read academic things on the Internet like Bloomberg and The New York Times. (I can't read the Fashion Police on E, which I really do enjoy.) Feel free to ask me about Lybia, Japan, the Ivory Coast, Obama's Health Care Reform Bill's 1st anniversary, Congress' reaction to Obama's approach in Lybia or the safety of America's nuclear power plants.
Mr. X continues to be surprised with what I can do and I really want to say that I can do more than I'm being allowed to do. I'm trying to give him time to get used to me--it hasn't even been 3 weeks yet. We are supposed to get together tomorrow to go through his follow up so he can hand some of it off to me. Mr. X and I are alike in that we are both control freaks, so I can understand his reluctance.
I never noticed until now how invisible assistants are. People will come and talk to Mr. X and hover over my triangle, yet not acknowledge that I am there. That's my complaint for today...
In happy news, my ducks have arrived from somewhere in the south. We saw Rebecca and Bernard yesterday, no sightings of George yet. Although it is cold today, Spring now seems real.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
What's in a name?
As I write this, I am eating the Wal-Mart version of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Sweet Pea doesn't like it because it tastes "different."
Today was not an exciting day in my triangle. I had very little to do and work is quite boring when you aren't doing anything. I am claiming a victory over the comb binding machine. I put together my first fiduciary review booklets for Mr. X. (Let me take a moment to say that these booklets are beautiful. I thought that The Man and I had good materials at The Place With Three Letters, but I was sooooooooooooooooooooooo wrong. This booklet is so much better that I can't even quantify it. This also shows why The Place With Three Letters was laying off people and The Big Cheese Financial Group was hiring.) Anyway, after putting the booklets together this morning I had almost nothing to do. Tomorrow should be better, as I'll have all the follow up from Mr. X's meeting to organize.
As a side note, I just spilled Cinnamon Toast Crunch milk all down the front of me, while drinking it out of the bowl, and had to change all of my clothes. Good stuff.
Since I didn't have much to do today, I had lots of time to think about the two people in the office that I haven't named yet--one of the partners and the Chairman of the Board. I don't have a lot of interaction with them, which is why they haven't shown up sooner. The Chairman of the Board will now be called Al Gore, because he invented the Internet. (I think our Chairman had a bigger hand in it than the real Al Gore.) Al Gore is there for our Monday Morning Meetings and he's really into marketing. Right now his big idea is to have The Big Cheese start eating lunch every day at the super-posh, old money, country club. That way The Big Cheese will mix with the "right" people. The other partner in the office will be known as Will, as in William Shakespeare. That name would make lots of sense if you knew his actual name--you're just going to have to trust me on that. Will is very nice, but he is opposed to Al Gore's lunch marketing plans. He thinks that The Big Cheese should be having dinners with clients where the clients invite several of their business friends. And yes folks*, the merits of both of these ideas were debated for about 45 minutes at the last Monday Morning Meeting.
*The word "folks" still makes me laugh from my job at The Big P. At one point during that job my Senior Manager visited our office and accompanied me on a client visit to evaluate my performance. During this meeting I said "you guys." In the car after the meeting I was reprimanded and told to use the world "folks" because "guys" is too informal and also because there were women present. Ever since that time, "folks" has made me laugh.
Today was not an exciting day in my triangle. I had very little to do and work is quite boring when you aren't doing anything. I am claiming a victory over the comb binding machine. I put together my first fiduciary review booklets for Mr. X. (Let me take a moment to say that these booklets are beautiful. I thought that The Man and I had good materials at The Place With Three Letters, but I was sooooooooooooooooooooooo wrong. This booklet is so much better that I can't even quantify it. This also shows why The Place With Three Letters was laying off people and The Big Cheese Financial Group was hiring.) Anyway, after putting the booklets together this morning I had almost nothing to do. Tomorrow should be better, as I'll have all the follow up from Mr. X's meeting to organize.
As a side note, I just spilled Cinnamon Toast Crunch milk all down the front of me, while drinking it out of the bowl, and had to change all of my clothes. Good stuff.
Since I didn't have much to do today, I had lots of time to think about the two people in the office that I haven't named yet--one of the partners and the Chairman of the Board. I don't have a lot of interaction with them, which is why they haven't shown up sooner. The Chairman of the Board will now be called Al Gore, because he invented the Internet. (I think our Chairman had a bigger hand in it than the real Al Gore.) Al Gore is there for our Monday Morning Meetings and he's really into marketing. Right now his big idea is to have The Big Cheese start eating lunch every day at the super-posh, old money, country club. That way The Big Cheese will mix with the "right" people. The other partner in the office will be known as Will, as in William Shakespeare. That name would make lots of sense if you knew his actual name--you're just going to have to trust me on that. Will is very nice, but he is opposed to Al Gore's lunch marketing plans. He thinks that The Big Cheese should be having dinners with clients where the clients invite several of their business friends. And yes folks*, the merits of both of these ideas were debated for about 45 minutes at the last Monday Morning Meeting.
*The word "folks" still makes me laugh from my job at The Big P. At one point during that job my Senior Manager visited our office and accompanied me on a client visit to evaluate my performance. During this meeting I said "you guys." In the car after the meeting I was reprimanded and told to use the world "folks" because "guys" is too informal and also because there were women present. Ever since that time, "folks" has made me laugh.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Paperclips and Psychiatrists
I went to see the psychiatrist today and had a good talk. He is adjusting some of my medications and also gave me something new to help me sleep (since the old stuff wasn't working any more). I feel like if I could have a few nights of really good sleep it would be sort of like pressing the "reset" button in my brain and I would feel a lot better. He also ordered some bloodwork. In addition to my usual liver check, he ordered bloodwork to check for about a zillion different things. There is always a chance that the way I feel could be caused by something pysical that would be pretty easy to treat. I'm not holding my breath on that one, but I recognize that it is good to check.
Now to something more fun...PAPERCLIPS!
My new office is obsessed with paperclips. Personally, I am a Post-Its kind of girl. On my first day Mr. X gave me two pieces of advice:
1. Never go into The Big Cheese's office without a note pad.
2. Always paperclip my documents in the upper left corner of the page--do not paperclip the side of the page and do not staple things.
These people have serious issues with the stapler. I am suprised that I'm allowed to have one on my desk. I'm guessing that it is for personal use only, since I'm not allowed to staple offical things. When you work on a document, you are supposed to write a note about it (using the note pad that you would take into The Big Cheese's office) and then paperclip that note to the document, in the upper left corner of the page. This goes on with people adding their notes until the document is finished and is then scanned and discarded. (The Big Cheese's Financial Group is truly paperless--I hope that they have a good backup system for their server or we will all be screwed.) I like Post-Its. I have gotten used to the "don't staple anything" rule, but instead of clipping my notes onto the document, I write them on a Post-It and stick them to the front. I'm a rebel like that. The paper clips are not the traditional sliver. Instead they are shiny gold. They seem to superior to the silver veriety.
On another note...My photo has been added to the company website. They failed to use the same background when they took my picture and my head looks bigger than everyone elses. (I think my head was closer to the camera.) I am displeased, although I didn't want my picture on the website at all, so I think I would have been displeased with anything.
And, in case you were wondering, Guy is starting to get a giant scab on his oozing leg wound. He is hoping that it will be fully scabbed over by Thursday so he can play in a basketball tournament and, given his track record, probably get hurt again.
Tomorrow I have to use the comb binding machine, which has become my arch nemesis...
Now to something more fun...PAPERCLIPS!
My new office is obsessed with paperclips. Personally, I am a Post-Its kind of girl. On my first day Mr. X gave me two pieces of advice:
1. Never go into The Big Cheese's office without a note pad.
2. Always paperclip my documents in the upper left corner of the page--do not paperclip the side of the page and do not staple things.
These people have serious issues with the stapler. I am suprised that I'm allowed to have one on my desk. I'm guessing that it is for personal use only, since I'm not allowed to staple offical things. When you work on a document, you are supposed to write a note about it (using the note pad that you would take into The Big Cheese's office) and then paperclip that note to the document, in the upper left corner of the page. This goes on with people adding their notes until the document is finished and is then scanned and discarded. (The Big Cheese's Financial Group is truly paperless--I hope that they have a good backup system for their server or we will all be screwed.) I like Post-Its. I have gotten used to the "don't staple anything" rule, but instead of clipping my notes onto the document, I write them on a Post-It and stick them to the front. I'm a rebel like that. The paper clips are not the traditional sliver. Instead they are shiny gold. They seem to superior to the silver veriety.
On another note...My photo has been added to the company website. They failed to use the same background when they took my picture and my head looks bigger than everyone elses. (I think my head was closer to the camera.) I am displeased, although I didn't want my picture on the website at all, so I think I would have been displeased with anything.
And, in case you were wondering, Guy is starting to get a giant scab on his oozing leg wound. He is hoping that it will be fully scabbed over by Thursday so he can play in a basketball tournament and, given his track record, probably get hurt again.
Tomorrow I have to use the comb binding machine, which has become my arch nemesis...
Monday, March 21, 2011
When The Big Cheese is Away the Mice with Play...
The Big Cheese is out of the office all this week. Right now he's visiting a client with Mole and then he's going to a conference. Incidentally, The Big Cheese is going to a conference with The Man. (The Man is my previous employer at the place with three letters.) I'm wondering how that whole thing is going to go down...
Because The Big Cheese, Mole and The Godfather are out of the office, we did not have our usual Monday Morning Meeting. I knew that the meeting was canceled, but I was unsure when to arrive. I'm supposed to be there at 8:00 on Mondays (9:00 every other day), but since there was no meeting I was shooting for an 8:30 arrival. Traffic was either in my favor (or not) because I arrived at 8:15 and found the door unlocked because R was already there. (R is the one whose husband has cancer--we're just going to call her R.) Since I have minimal things to do, I spent the first 45 minutes of my day reading about Libya. Mr. X did not arrive until 9:45. I am becoming something like the office attendance police.
While I was sitting at my desk this morning I was thinking about how much I hate my desk chair. I really hate it. It is weird and tiny and has this cushion on the seat that tips you forward, so I feel like I'm always at risk of falling out of my chair and sliding onto the floor. Everyone else in the office seems to have nice chairs and I'm feeling like I got the shaft. How do you think it would go over if I brought in my own chair from home?
So, Guy was the big news at work today. As I've said before, the window in my triangle overlooks the door to the office building and I saw Guy come in this morning. He was wearing a polo shirt with black dress pants and his pointy toed shoes--this sounds like a normal outfit except for the fact that one leg of his pants was rolled up to the knee. I thought that maybe he had ridden his bike to work (because we are having very nice weather for March). I always think it looks dumb, but you see some bike riding people roll up their pants like that. I wondered why he hadn't rolled his pant leg down before coming into the office. All was reviled when he came over to my side of the office to toast his morning everything bagel and I saw the GIANT, OOZING scrape on his leg that went from the top of his (black dress) socks to his knee. Because he is a boy, he was very proud of his injury, so he went into Mr. X's office to show it to him. (As a side note, Guy, Mr. X and another guy in the office whom I haven't named yet all grew up together in the same small town.) Guy injured himself yesterday afternoon playing flag football. (Silly me, I thought the point of playing flag football was that you don't get injured.) Guy had made some spectacular dive in the end zone, which resulted in his scrape. I don't have the quote exactly right, but when Mr. X asked him about it Guy said something like this: "I just play with so much heart--I don't know what I'm doing because I have so much heart." Unfortunately, I don't know him well enough to know if he was being serious or not, so I will just make fun of him in the meantime. Apparently, Guy and I are good enough friends now that he felt the need to tell me that his leg oozed all over his sheets while he was sleeping. I wanted to go and buy him some gauze pads after that.
Speaking of making fun...he must have gotten tired of everyone making fun of his rolled up pant leg (which looked kind of like the old man look with the black dress socks and dress shoe summer shorts ensemble, or something that my father-in-law wears on a regular basis, but with sandals) that after lunch he came back wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt.
Because The Big Cheese, Mole and The Godfather are out of the office, we did not have our usual Monday Morning Meeting. I knew that the meeting was canceled, but I was unsure when to arrive. I'm supposed to be there at 8:00 on Mondays (9:00 every other day), but since there was no meeting I was shooting for an 8:30 arrival. Traffic was either in my favor (or not) because I arrived at 8:15 and found the door unlocked because R was already there. (R is the one whose husband has cancer--we're just going to call her R.) Since I have minimal things to do, I spent the first 45 minutes of my day reading about Libya. Mr. X did not arrive until 9:45. I am becoming something like the office attendance police.
While I was sitting at my desk this morning I was thinking about how much I hate my desk chair. I really hate it. It is weird and tiny and has this cushion on the seat that tips you forward, so I feel like I'm always at risk of falling out of my chair and sliding onto the floor. Everyone else in the office seems to have nice chairs and I'm feeling like I got the shaft. How do you think it would go over if I brought in my own chair from home?
So, Guy was the big news at work today. As I've said before, the window in my triangle overlooks the door to the office building and I saw Guy come in this morning. He was wearing a polo shirt with black dress pants and his pointy toed shoes--this sounds like a normal outfit except for the fact that one leg of his pants was rolled up to the knee. I thought that maybe he had ridden his bike to work (because we are having very nice weather for March). I always think it looks dumb, but you see some bike riding people roll up their pants like that. I wondered why he hadn't rolled his pant leg down before coming into the office. All was reviled when he came over to my side of the office to toast his morning everything bagel and I saw the GIANT, OOZING scrape on his leg that went from the top of his (black dress) socks to his knee. Because he is a boy, he was very proud of his injury, so he went into Mr. X's office to show it to him. (As a side note, Guy, Mr. X and another guy in the office whom I haven't named yet all grew up together in the same small town.) Guy injured himself yesterday afternoon playing flag football. (Silly me, I thought the point of playing flag football was that you don't get injured.) Guy had made some spectacular dive in the end zone, which resulted in his scrape. I don't have the quote exactly right, but when Mr. X asked him about it Guy said something like this: "I just play with so much heart--I don't know what I'm doing because I have so much heart." Unfortunately, I don't know him well enough to know if he was being serious or not, so I will just make fun of him in the meantime. Apparently, Guy and I are good enough friends now that he felt the need to tell me that his leg oozed all over his sheets while he was sleeping. I wanted to go and buy him some gauze pads after that.
Speaking of making fun...he must have gotten tired of everyone making fun of his rolled up pant leg (which looked kind of like the old man look with the black dress socks and dress shoe summer shorts ensemble, or something that my father-in-law wears on a regular basis, but with sandals) that after lunch he came back wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Spring has Sprung (and it brought Andes Mints)
As I write this (later in the day than usual) I am full of delicious fish from the church fish fry.
Sweat Pea and I just got home from ballet at the Y. She is enjoying her class and calls it "real ballet." (This is in contrast to the classes that she was taking at the ballet company that took place in a beautiful studio with live piano accompaniment. That was "fake ballet." We now have "real ballet" in a conference room with a CD player.) Her teacher is lovely, but I do miss the discipline of "fake ballet." Parents are allowed to stay and watch, which is nice, but distracting. Tonight there was one mother doling out individual Cheese Its to her daughter like a baby bird. Incidentally, that little girl is a dead ringer for D.W. on "Arthur." (Sweet Pea loves "Arthur," so we watch it a little more than I would like.) There is one girl in the class (not the one eating the Cheese Its) that is leaps and bounds (pardon the ballet pun) better than the other girls in the class. She is so much more graceful and takes everything so seriously, while my child is bouncing up and down. I have the urge to talk to her mother and make sure that she has noticed her child's natural ability so she can sign her up for some "fake ballet" at the good studio.
Spring arrived at my triangle today. When I got to the office this morning Mama X was in the parking lot unloading a minivan full of fake flowers and little "Happy Spring" things that you buy at JoAnn's. She then spent the morning "switching out" our decor for some more seasonal things. Now, next to the Serenity Prayer in the bathroom, there is a GIANT vase of fake daffodils. There is also a wooden Easter Bunny on top of the filing cabinents. Also, in the candy bowl on the coffee table by the couch where clients sit when they come in, we now have Andes Mints. This replaced the M&Ms, so Andes must be the Spring flavor. I really want to know if someone has asked her to do this, or if this is just part of her "thing." She did bring in chocolate pie for K's birthday today, which was very good. (K is The Big Cheese's assistant. I've decided not to come up with another name for her because K fits...)
Today Mr. X arrived at work wearing jeans. This caused me stress. I am having a hard enough time putting together a business casual work look without having to worry about a casual Friday look as well. I miss working from home.
On the bright side, I actually got to do work today that I was qualified to do. Mole allowed me to put together mutual fund recommendations for one of his clients and I was allowed to send them to the client without his looking over them first. I'm actually kind of sad because Mole will be gone all next week and so far he's the one that's giving me the most actual work to do. The Godfather will also be gone, but he's barely there anyway. I'm starting to think that The Godfather has a second job with the CIA. (I guess the CIA job would actually be his third job, since he's also a mayor.) He comes into the office, goes into his office, closes the door and then 15 minutes later he has disappeared and I NEVER see him come out of his office. He has a bookshelf and I'm thinking that there's one of those trick books that acts as a hinge for a secret room door. (If you are wondering how I know that he has dissapeared, K will buzz him with a phone call, which I can hear from my triangle down the hall, and he won't answer her.)
I need to do the laundry tonight. We are going to a two day party tomorrow and I need clothes... I'm kind of anxious about this party because it seems weird. It is being given by friends of ours who have a daughter in Sweet Pea's class. One of them is turning 40, so they have rented this big cabin in the woods and invited everyone to stay the weekend. (We could have gone tonight, but we decided that one night was enough.) I think that they are doing this so everyone can get really drunk. I, however, cannot drink at all because of my current medications. I know a lot of people drink when they are on medication that say you're not supposed to, but I have to get my liver enzymes checked every month to make sure that my liver is still in good shape. I figure that I shouldn't put any more pressure on my poor organs. So, this party could be really fun and I'll get to watch drunk people do stupid things (and might have lots of things to write about), or it might be really lame because I'm the only non-drunk person there. I'll keep you posted...
Sweat Pea and I just got home from ballet at the Y. She is enjoying her class and calls it "real ballet." (This is in contrast to the classes that she was taking at the ballet company that took place in a beautiful studio with live piano accompaniment. That was "fake ballet." We now have "real ballet" in a conference room with a CD player.) Her teacher is lovely, but I do miss the discipline of "fake ballet." Parents are allowed to stay and watch, which is nice, but distracting. Tonight there was one mother doling out individual Cheese Its to her daughter like a baby bird. Incidentally, that little girl is a dead ringer for D.W. on "Arthur." (Sweet Pea loves "Arthur," so we watch it a little more than I would like.) There is one girl in the class (not the one eating the Cheese Its) that is leaps and bounds (pardon the ballet pun) better than the other girls in the class. She is so much more graceful and takes everything so seriously, while my child is bouncing up and down. I have the urge to talk to her mother and make sure that she has noticed her child's natural ability so she can sign her up for some "fake ballet" at the good studio.
Spring arrived at my triangle today. When I got to the office this morning Mama X was in the parking lot unloading a minivan full of fake flowers and little "Happy Spring" things that you buy at JoAnn's. She then spent the morning "switching out" our decor for some more seasonal things. Now, next to the Serenity Prayer in the bathroom, there is a GIANT vase of fake daffodils. There is also a wooden Easter Bunny on top of the filing cabinents. Also, in the candy bowl on the coffee table by the couch where clients sit when they come in, we now have Andes Mints. This replaced the M&Ms, so Andes must be the Spring flavor. I really want to know if someone has asked her to do this, or if this is just part of her "thing." She did bring in chocolate pie for K's birthday today, which was very good. (K is The Big Cheese's assistant. I've decided not to come up with another name for her because K fits...)
Today Mr. X arrived at work wearing jeans. This caused me stress. I am having a hard enough time putting together a business casual work look without having to worry about a casual Friday look as well. I miss working from home.
On the bright side, I actually got to do work today that I was qualified to do. Mole allowed me to put together mutual fund recommendations for one of his clients and I was allowed to send them to the client without his looking over them first. I'm actually kind of sad because Mole will be gone all next week and so far he's the one that's giving me the most actual work to do. The Godfather will also be gone, but he's barely there anyway. I'm starting to think that The Godfather has a second job with the CIA. (I guess the CIA job would actually be his third job, since he's also a mayor.) He comes into the office, goes into his office, closes the door and then 15 minutes later he has disappeared and I NEVER see him come out of his office. He has a bookshelf and I'm thinking that there's one of those trick books that acts as a hinge for a secret room door. (If you are wondering how I know that he has dissapeared, K will buzz him with a phone call, which I can hear from my triangle down the hall, and he won't answer her.)
I need to do the laundry tonight. We are going to a two day party tomorrow and I need clothes... I'm kind of anxious about this party because it seems weird. It is being given by friends of ours who have a daughter in Sweet Pea's class. One of them is turning 40, so they have rented this big cabin in the woods and invited everyone to stay the weekend. (We could have gone tonight, but we decided that one night was enough.) I think that they are doing this so everyone can get really drunk. I, however, cannot drink at all because of my current medications. I know a lot of people drink when they are on medication that say you're not supposed to, but I have to get my liver enzymes checked every month to make sure that my liver is still in good shape. I figure that I shouldn't put any more pressure on my poor organs. So, this party could be really fun and I'll get to watch drunk people do stupid things (and might have lots of things to write about), or it might be really lame because I'm the only non-drunk person there. I'll keep you posted...
Thursday, March 17, 2011
To the Bat Cave
I don't have anything to write today that is that amusing--it was kind of the same old same old in my triangle today, so you might want to check out this post from Regresty, my new favorite blog. http://www.regretsy.com/2011/03/16/roseanne/
The last few nights I've been sleeping pretty well. Strep Throat came to visit out house over the weekend, knocking out Sweet Pea first and then taking down The Husband. I did not want to get Strep Throat, so I started sleeping on the air mattress in the room formerly know as my office. (This reminds me of the Artist Formerly Known as Prince, but I seriously have no idea what to call that room. It's not my office any more, but it feels too new to start calling it the guest room again. I cleaned it out before we had company at New Years, but there's some things that I can't bring myself to get rid of. For example, my dry erase boards are still covered with all the phone numbers that I needed while working. It feels like if I erase them it will be like it never happened. To be overly dramatic, and for those of you who have read "Twilight," it feels like when Edward says "It will be as if I never existed." Totally not true--it did exist, but it just vanished. Right now I still need my phone numbers to make it seem like the last 5 years mattered.) Anyway, back to sleeping...so I started sleeping on the air mattress and got a good nights sleep, so I've kept sleeping in there and I keep having reasonably good sleep.
This reminds me of when I first got sick and I used to sleep on the futon in the basement, which I called my cave. At that time I was having a horrible time sleeping and I remember that I read somewhere that a change of scenery helps some insomniacs fall asleep, which is why I tried out my cave. I remember feeling really free in the cave. Sweet Pea was younger and still got up at night sometimes, but I couldn't hear her in the cave, so I could really let myself sleep and not have to sleep with one ear open. I'm not as isolated in the room formerly known as my office, but since it is helping me sleep, I will be there until further notice.
I don't have much to report from my triangle today. I learned how to use the comb binding machine. I have now (semi) mastered all the office equiptment, with the exception of the postage machine, however tomorrow I have to mail a letter, so I have that to look forward to. I used to really enjoy comb binding. I didn't get to do it very often, but on the occasion that I did when I was working at The Big P, it was fun. I always found it to be a good place to collect my thoughts. I liked to bind some stuff before I had to write a particularly difficult letter or email. I do not like this comb binding machine--it is one of the most frustrating things that I've ever used--it punches these teeny tiny holes and the wire thing is impossible to thread through them. I also had another exciting day of highlighting. While doing that, I was thinking about how overpaid I am, given the tasks that I'm doing right now. I hope that no one else notices that.
Mr. X (who truly is a very nice person--probably why he has one of the nicer fake names) did give me an important project at the end of the day. He's having me do something that he said that he's never let anyone do before. Then when he walked away from my desk he started having the shakes or something from power point withdrawal. (It's a disease that I know well, since I was starting to have it too.) I'm looking forward to getting to use my brain tomorrow.
And now I'm going to watch Tuesday's episode of "Glee" again...and also look up if there's a new "Gray's Anatomy" on tonight.
I found this after I posted, but had to add it... http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/2011/03/15/when-i-see-you-park-one-word-comes-to-mind/
The last few nights I've been sleeping pretty well. Strep Throat came to visit out house over the weekend, knocking out Sweet Pea first and then taking down The Husband. I did not want to get Strep Throat, so I started sleeping on the air mattress in the room formerly know as my office. (This reminds me of the Artist Formerly Known as Prince, but I seriously have no idea what to call that room. It's not my office any more, but it feels too new to start calling it the guest room again. I cleaned it out before we had company at New Years, but there's some things that I can't bring myself to get rid of. For example, my dry erase boards are still covered with all the phone numbers that I needed while working. It feels like if I erase them it will be like it never happened. To be overly dramatic, and for those of you who have read "Twilight," it feels like when Edward says "It will be as if I never existed." Totally not true--it did exist, but it just vanished. Right now I still need my phone numbers to make it seem like the last 5 years mattered.) Anyway, back to sleeping...so I started sleeping on the air mattress and got a good nights sleep, so I've kept sleeping in there and I keep having reasonably good sleep.
This reminds me of when I first got sick and I used to sleep on the futon in the basement, which I called my cave. At that time I was having a horrible time sleeping and I remember that I read somewhere that a change of scenery helps some insomniacs fall asleep, which is why I tried out my cave. I remember feeling really free in the cave. Sweet Pea was younger and still got up at night sometimes, but I couldn't hear her in the cave, so I could really let myself sleep and not have to sleep with one ear open. I'm not as isolated in the room formerly known as my office, but since it is helping me sleep, I will be there until further notice.
I don't have much to report from my triangle today. I learned how to use the comb binding machine. I have now (semi) mastered all the office equiptment, with the exception of the postage machine, however tomorrow I have to mail a letter, so I have that to look forward to. I used to really enjoy comb binding. I didn't get to do it very often, but on the occasion that I did when I was working at The Big P, it was fun. I always found it to be a good place to collect my thoughts. I liked to bind some stuff before I had to write a particularly difficult letter or email. I do not like this comb binding machine--it is one of the most frustrating things that I've ever used--it punches these teeny tiny holes and the wire thing is impossible to thread through them. I also had another exciting day of highlighting. While doing that, I was thinking about how overpaid I am, given the tasks that I'm doing right now. I hope that no one else notices that.
Mr. X (who truly is a very nice person--probably why he has one of the nicer fake names) did give me an important project at the end of the day. He's having me do something that he said that he's never let anyone do before. Then when he walked away from my desk he started having the shakes or something from power point withdrawal. (It's a disease that I know well, since I was starting to have it too.) I'm looking forward to getting to use my brain tomorrow.
And now I'm going to watch Tuesday's episode of "Glee" again...and also look up if there's a new "Gray's Anatomy" on tonight.
I found this after I posted, but had to add it... http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/2011/03/15/when-i-see-you-park-one-word-comes-to-mind/
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover, Even When It Wears Weird Pointy Toed Shoes
There's this guy at work, will call him Guy, and he's young(er than me) and sort of hipish and until recently I thought that he was a real ass. The first two days that I worked in my triangle he didn't say a word to me--not even, "Hi, my name is Guy." Apparently, he was busy working on a big project for The Big Cheese. Anyway, one of the first things that I noticed about Guy (even when I saw him when I was interviewing) was his weird pointy toed shoes. I don't know why I always notice men's shoes. It's probably because I have really poor posture and am always looking at the floor. (Yesterday Mr. X was wearing sneakers--actual sneakers, not hip sneakers, with his work clothes.) Anyway, Guy has two pairs of the same pointy toed shoes; one light tan (that is really scuffed up and I want to polish every time I see it--I wonder why Mama X hasn't gone after him with some shoe polish and her OCD) and the other black. They look really uncomfortable, because they are not only pointy toed, but they also appear to flatten the top of the foot. Anyway, there's this guy in the office being all hip and not talking to me and wearing the pointy toed shoes and perhaps you can see why I thought he was an ass. It turns out that Guy is a really nice guy. He has been very helpful lately. Some of this may be because I'm going to be doing a lot of the administrative work that he was previously responsible for, but he's still being really nice. So, should you meet a pointy toed shoe wearing book in your future, don't judge it by its cover.
It's kind of fun coming up with names for everyone at work. I'm thinking that I'm going to call one of the other people that I support Mole, like Mole from "The Wind in the Willows." This isn't meant as a slam, since Mole is one of my favorite characters. Mole just has this almost perminate look of bewilderment on his face and seems to be hanging on to The Big Cheese's (or Ratty would also be an appropriate name for him) coattails. Today Mole and the Big Cheese had a big pitch and Mole has been talking about it since I arrived; I think that's so everyone in the office would know that he's involved.
I support a trio of men and I'm thinking that I'll call the third The Godfather. I don't know The Godfather very well yet, however he is Italian, the mayor of one of really affluent/old money subburbs of town and also owns an Italian resturant. We'll just go with stereotypes until I get to know him better.
So, now we have Mr. X, Mole and the Godfather and me in my triangle.
On a completely different subject, Sweet Pea (my daughter) went with me to Wal Mart to go grocery shoping today and I bought her both Lunchables and Beef-a-roni (which she ate for dinner). I have never purchaced either of these products. If you buy them, please don't think that I am judging. I was very thankful for the Beef-a-roni and it's serving of vegitables in each cup tonight. I've just never bought this stuff before and it has me thinking, which (as Lefou in "Beauty and the Beast" says) is a dangerous passtime...
It's kind of fun coming up with names for everyone at work. I'm thinking that I'm going to call one of the other people that I support Mole, like Mole from "The Wind in the Willows." This isn't meant as a slam, since Mole is one of my favorite characters. Mole just has this almost perminate look of bewilderment on his face and seems to be hanging on to The Big Cheese's (or Ratty would also be an appropriate name for him) coattails. Today Mole and the Big Cheese had a big pitch and Mole has been talking about it since I arrived; I think that's so everyone in the office would know that he's involved.
I support a trio of men and I'm thinking that I'll call the third The Godfather. I don't know The Godfather very well yet, however he is Italian, the mayor of one of really affluent/old money subburbs of town and also owns an Italian resturant. We'll just go with stereotypes until I get to know him better.
So, now we have Mr. X, Mole and the Godfather and me in my triangle.
On a completely different subject, Sweet Pea (my daughter) went with me to Wal Mart to go grocery shoping today and I bought her both Lunchables and Beef-a-roni (which she ate for dinner). I have never purchaced either of these products. If you buy them, please don't think that I am judging. I was very thankful for the Beef-a-roni and it's serving of vegitables in each cup tonight. I've just never bought this stuff before and it has me thinking, which (as Lefou in "Beauty and the Beast" says) is a dangerous passtime...
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Officey Things
To start off with a Captain Obvious remark, working in an office is a lot different than working at home. You have to do officey things so that you can fit in. I never went to a new school as a kid, but I imagine that this is what it feels like. Today, for the first time in my life, I filled out an NCAA bracket. We are having an office pool--I kicked in my $10. Maybe I will win. I picked Duke, as my ultimate winner, if you were wondering. I picked Duke because they won last year and because I really hate Ohio State. (My final four are Ohio State, Duke, Kansas and Pittsburgh--the top 4 seeds in each of the 4 brackets, so you can see how creative I am.) I still don't have a lot to do at work; today I spent about 4 hours making copies and putting packets together for a bunch of dentists. I had many "is this my life" moments while doing that tasks. Since it was work that required absolutely no brain power, I was able to practice music in my head. (I will have to be careful that I don't start singing out loud.) Most of my head practicing was taken up with this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WsepyAMxT0M (I had to listen to a lot of versions on YouTube to find the right arrangement.)
I thought that I would tell you some more about life in my triangle, particularly the office decor. The office is really decorated, to the point of being cheesy. (Another reason The Big Cheese is a good name.) On one wall of my triangle there is a GIANT picture of three white roses sitting on some parchment. It's not even a good picture and I wonder why people buy things like it. There are pictures of pears near the conference table and the kicker, to me, is a copy of the Serenity Prayer in the bathroom. Sometimes I would like to pray for God to grant me the serenity to not make fun of the serenity prayer and whomever hung it up. To increase the cheese factor, all around the work room with the copy machine and supplies and stuff there are words like "smile," "excellence" and "exceed expectations" stencled on the wall. I don't think that you could find two offices more different than my former office in Cincinnati and my current triangle world. At that former place with three letters, the President was on the board of the contemporary art museum and had some arrangements that pieces from the museum could be housed at the office, so this made for some pretty weird art. There was a suit of armor in an alcove in one hall, but my favorite piece were the Barbie arms in the shoebox lid by the Ladies Room. This was a piece of "art" that literally looked like someone had painted the lid of a shoebox with red tempera paint and then ripped the arms off a bunch of Barbies and stuck them through little holes in the shoe box lid. It was both fascinating and disturbing at the same time. I always wanted to ask the artist was it meant. I do not want to ask the person who painted the pears anything.
I am finding that I have more sympathy for my former assistant (from my first job when I had an assistant) now that I'm in my new position. She had MAJOR issues with me (and others in the office) being able to set our own schedules, to an extent, and would get really bent out of shape when someone would leave early. Yesterday morning Mr. X left the office to go to Starbucks to get some coffee because he didn't want to wait for the office coffee to brew. To Mr. X's credit, he did ask me if I wanted some coffee before he left, but the whole time he was gone I was just sitting there thinking about being able to do things like that in the past, but not any more. Part of me wants to Facebook my old assistant and tell her that I "get it" now. I was also thinking that Mr. X is kind of crazy because it took way more time to get in the car and drive to Starbucks than it would have to wait for the coffee. (Also, we have one of those little individual cup Keurig coffee makers (that's supposed to be used for clients only, but everyone uses it anyway) that would have made him a cup of coffee in about 30 seconds if her was going through some kind of major cafieen withdrawal.)
I think that everyone has their own kind of crazy. Mr. X's mom works at my triangle office. We'll call her Mama X. She works 2 days a week and does cleaning and ordering supplies and has pretty handwriting, so she addresses all the mail and stuff like that. She also has some major OCD. She cannot stand to have anything crocked or messed up. I can't count how many time times that she apologized to me on my first day that she hadn't found a fake plant of the right size to hide my computer cords. (Note that I did have a fake plant to hide my computer cords, just not one of the right size.) Every time she walks past my desk she straightens my lampshade--I seriously cannot tell that it's ever crooked. Last week I brought in a few pictures to personalize my triangle and there was a tiny amount of white price tag sticker on the back of one of them. She tried to get that off with her finger nail, water and then finally had to break out the Goo Be Gone to get it out. I have a new plastic floor mat to scoot around on and it also had a sticky white label, so today she was crawling around under my desk to get rid of the label. She didn't want to use the Goo Be Gone, though, because she thought that it might hurt the plastic. I hope that I am never invited to her house because I am scared that I will break or spill something.
I also had my first Most Embarrassing Work Moment today. (I'm thinking of starting a Most Embarrassing Work Moment Hall of Fame.) I was sitting at my desk doing work things (not moving around) and all of the sudden my chair literally gave out. Thankfully it was an old chair and I was told that it was on its last legs, but you never want to be the person sitting in the chair when it breaks. This is something that is much better to have happen when you are working from home.
I thought that I would tell you some more about life in my triangle, particularly the office decor. The office is really decorated, to the point of being cheesy. (Another reason The Big Cheese is a good name.) On one wall of my triangle there is a GIANT picture of three white roses sitting on some parchment. It's not even a good picture and I wonder why people buy things like it. There are pictures of pears near the conference table and the kicker, to me, is a copy of the Serenity Prayer in the bathroom. Sometimes I would like to pray for God to grant me the serenity to not make fun of the serenity prayer and whomever hung it up. To increase the cheese factor, all around the work room with the copy machine and supplies and stuff there are words like "smile," "excellence" and "exceed expectations" stencled on the wall. I don't think that you could find two offices more different than my former office in Cincinnati and my current triangle world. At that former place with three letters, the President was on the board of the contemporary art museum and had some arrangements that pieces from the museum could be housed at the office, so this made for some pretty weird art. There was a suit of armor in an alcove in one hall, but my favorite piece were the Barbie arms in the shoebox lid by the Ladies Room. This was a piece of "art" that literally looked like someone had painted the lid of a shoebox with red tempera paint and then ripped the arms off a bunch of Barbies and stuck them through little holes in the shoe box lid. It was both fascinating and disturbing at the same time. I always wanted to ask the artist was it meant. I do not want to ask the person who painted the pears anything.
I am finding that I have more sympathy for my former assistant (from my first job when I had an assistant) now that I'm in my new position. She had MAJOR issues with me (and others in the office) being able to set our own schedules, to an extent, and would get really bent out of shape when someone would leave early. Yesterday morning Mr. X left the office to go to Starbucks to get some coffee because he didn't want to wait for the office coffee to brew. To Mr. X's credit, he did ask me if I wanted some coffee before he left, but the whole time he was gone I was just sitting there thinking about being able to do things like that in the past, but not any more. Part of me wants to Facebook my old assistant and tell her that I "get it" now. I was also thinking that Mr. X is kind of crazy because it took way more time to get in the car and drive to Starbucks than it would have to wait for the coffee. (Also, we have one of those little individual cup Keurig coffee makers (that's supposed to be used for clients only, but everyone uses it anyway) that would have made him a cup of coffee in about 30 seconds if her was going through some kind of major cafieen withdrawal.)
I think that everyone has their own kind of crazy. Mr. X's mom works at my triangle office. We'll call her Mama X. She works 2 days a week and does cleaning and ordering supplies and has pretty handwriting, so she addresses all the mail and stuff like that. She also has some major OCD. She cannot stand to have anything crocked or messed up. I can't count how many time times that she apologized to me on my first day that she hadn't found a fake plant of the right size to hide my computer cords. (Note that I did have a fake plant to hide my computer cords, just not one of the right size.) Every time she walks past my desk she straightens my lampshade--I seriously cannot tell that it's ever crooked. Last week I brought in a few pictures to personalize my triangle and there was a tiny amount of white price tag sticker on the back of one of them. She tried to get that off with her finger nail, water and then finally had to break out the Goo Be Gone to get it out. I have a new plastic floor mat to scoot around on and it also had a sticky white label, so today she was crawling around under my desk to get rid of the label. She didn't want to use the Goo Be Gone, though, because she thought that it might hurt the plastic. I hope that I am never invited to her house because I am scared that I will break or spill something.
I also had my first Most Embarrassing Work Moment today. (I'm thinking of starting a Most Embarrassing Work Moment Hall of Fame.) I was sitting at my desk doing work things (not moving around) and all of the sudden my chair literally gave out. Thankfully it was an old chair and I was told that it was on its last legs, but you never want to be the person sitting in the chair when it breaks. This is something that is much better to have happen when you are working from home.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Settling In
So, I am starting to settle in. Everyone is very nice, although I work with too many men and they are gross. There are 6 men in the office and 3 women, although today I was the only girl there. The men all have gross bathroom habbits. (I will not elaborate, because you don't want to know.) My work is not challenging--today I highlighted fact sheets and tomorrow I get to put employee investment packets together. I also learned to use the scanner today. The jury in my head is still out on how I feel about this. I actually really enjoyed my highlighting, because I am weird.
I am exausted and continuing to not feel that great from a mental health standpoint... I am so tired, but I can't sleep. This is usually the precurser to something bad, so I am worried. I haven't done or seen anything crazy yet. I know I would feel so much better if I could sleep. According to my doctor, the spring is actually a really hard time of year for people with mental illnesses, which seems so weird to me. You'd think with all this awakening of nature that you'd feel good. (Another weird mental health fact, the state with the highest per capita rate of bi-polar disorder is Hawaii.)
I have found a blog that I really like... www.regretsy.com I actually really like Etsy, but this site finds some really funny things. (The language isn't great, so it probably isn't a good site for the work place, if you work in a triangle.)
Time to cook the chicken. (Imagine that said in the same way as "Time to make the donuts.")
I am exausted and continuing to not feel that great from a mental health standpoint... I am so tired, but I can't sleep. This is usually the precurser to something bad, so I am worried. I haven't done or seen anything crazy yet. I know I would feel so much better if I could sleep. According to my doctor, the spring is actually a really hard time of year for people with mental illnesses, which seems so weird to me. You'd think with all this awakening of nature that you'd feel good. (Another weird mental health fact, the state with the highest per capita rate of bi-polar disorder is Hawaii.)
I have found a blog that I really like... www.regretsy.com I actually really like Etsy, but this site finds some really funny things. (The language isn't great, so it probably isn't a good site for the work place, if you work in a triangle.)
Time to cook the chicken. (Imagine that said in the same way as "Time to make the donuts.")
Sunday, March 13, 2011
A Hiaku
Daylight Savings Time
Is evil and bad, yes sir
Morning too early
Although I hate Daylight Savings Time, I enjoy spring and I got to see two signs of spring this weekend. I saw my first crocus when I drove into my driveway yesterday. I need to clean out all the dead in the flower bed to give the flower room to breath. I also saw my favorite sign of spring at church this morning. There is an older man in our congregation who is frequently an usher. On the Sunday before St. Patrick's Day he makes sure to usher and wears his LIME GREEN suit, with matching tie, to church. He wears it without any irony, it's just his St. Patrick's Day Suit. (I should ask this guy if he knows the Leprechaun working in my office.)
And now, a book recommendation... I just finished "Mr. Pip" by Lloyd Jones, which was excellent. It takes place on an island in the Pacific (sort of near Australia) and the story is narrated by a 14 year old girl. I always admire when male authors can write convincingly as females. Anyway, this was one of the best novels that I have read in a long time.
Time to iron. My second week of work plan is to iron everything for work in advance and avoid nightly ironing. (I dislike ironing enough that I may write a haiku about it next.)
Is evil and bad, yes sir
Morning too early
Although I hate Daylight Savings Time, I enjoy spring and I got to see two signs of spring this weekend. I saw my first crocus when I drove into my driveway yesterday. I need to clean out all the dead in the flower bed to give the flower room to breath. I also saw my favorite sign of spring at church this morning. There is an older man in our congregation who is frequently an usher. On the Sunday before St. Patrick's Day he makes sure to usher and wears his LIME GREEN suit, with matching tie, to church. He wears it without any irony, it's just his St. Patrick's Day Suit. (I should ask this guy if he knows the Leprechaun working in my office.)
And now, a book recommendation... I just finished "Mr. Pip" by Lloyd Jones, which was excellent. It takes place on an island in the Pacific (sort of near Australia) and the story is narrated by a 14 year old girl. I always admire when male authors can write convincingly as females. Anyway, this was one of the best novels that I have read in a long time.
Time to iron. My second week of work plan is to iron everything for work in advance and avoid nightly ironing. (I dislike ironing enough that I may write a haiku about it next.)
Friday, March 11, 2011
The Cupboard Under the Stairs
My new office is in an office park in a fancy-pants part of the suburbs. It's one of those places where all of the buildings are small and brick and you can't tell the Wendy's apart from the bank because they aren't allowed to have real signs. Whoever designed my office park was on crack because it is comprised of about 25 IDENTICAL buildings with no external signage, so if you don't know exactly where you are going you would have to knock on doors forever. Thankfully I have managed to memorize my office's address, so I know where to park in the morning.
My little building has been divided into two suites and we are on the second floor. Every morning I walk up the stairs and wonder about the cupboard under the stairs. Thanks to Harry Potter, I'll bet that many people now take more notice of under-stair cupboards, but since this is MY cupboard, I wonder about it a lot. (I have lots of time to wonder about it because I still don't really have anything to do at work.) The door to the cupboard under the stairs is polished, like a nice wood, and outside of it there is this wing chair in sort of a chintz fabric, a little table, a plant and a lamp. I don't know if the chair is small, or if it just looks small because of the angle of the chair, but the whole thing looks like the waiting area for a tiny little office. So, now I am imagining that there is a Leprechaun working in the cupboard in my office. See--the Triangle is getting more fun every day!
For more work news...The Big Cheese took me to lunch today. I've decided that The Big Cheese is a very fitting name for him, as there is something sort of mousy about his eyes. The Big Cheese seemed slightly irritated that we couldn't go to Five Guys Burgers and Fries for lunch, since it's Friday and Lent and I don't eat meat. He paid me back by watching the basketball game through lunch, which irritated the heck out of me. I also got to see my official work portraits that were taken for the website. After viewing them, I realized that I need a haircut, better make up and more sleep. Too bad I didn't know about these things BEFORE I had the pictures taken.
And now it's time to change the subject....
It's Lent and I am weird because I really love Lent. I love the solemnity and the idea of preparing your heart for the coming of Christ. I love that so much of the Mass switches back to Latin. I love the crazy Fish Fry Dinners--one of the things that I was actually sorry about with having to go back to work 5 days a week is that I miss baking all the Fish Fry desserts. This may have been the year that I got brave enough to learn how to use our church's giant and ancient stand mixer that has a clutch. (Yes, you read that right. Our church has a piece of cooking equipment that has a clutch like a car.) This Easter will mark the tenth anniversary of my conversion to the Catholic faith. (I never felt like it was a big leap from Lutheran, although I still miss the celebration of Reformation Sunday, marking the anniversary of Martin Luther nailing his 95 Thesis to the door of Castle Church in Whittenburg. We had a Reformation Day Festival and got to play fun games as kids like "hide in a pickle barrel and pretend to get smuggled out of a nunnery" like Martin Luther's future wife. Yes--that really happened, both the game and the smuggling.) Anyway, back to Lent...I think my two favorite things are that we get to sing one of Palestrina's masterpieces, "O Bone Jesu." If you don't know the piece, this is a great recording on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SqkzQgcexQ4. My other favorite part of Lent is the end--this year we will celebrate the Easter Vigil on April 23rd and have the privilege of witnessing several adults being baptized into the church.
And for something else to keep everything in perspective...
One of my new co-workers has a husband who was diagnosed with Esophageal Cancer about 3 months ago. When I was 6 years old I lost my grandpa to that disease--I could write a whole post about how much that kind of cancer sucks. Anyway, my new work friend's husband had to have a procedure this afternoon because he's no longer able to swallow his own spit. Think about that for awhile and your own life won't seem to suck quite as much.
My little building has been divided into two suites and we are on the second floor. Every morning I walk up the stairs and wonder about the cupboard under the stairs. Thanks to Harry Potter, I'll bet that many people now take more notice of under-stair cupboards, but since this is MY cupboard, I wonder about it a lot. (I have lots of time to wonder about it because I still don't really have anything to do at work.) The door to the cupboard under the stairs is polished, like a nice wood, and outside of it there is this wing chair in sort of a chintz fabric, a little table, a plant and a lamp. I don't know if the chair is small, or if it just looks small because of the angle of the chair, but the whole thing looks like the waiting area for a tiny little office. So, now I am imagining that there is a Leprechaun working in the cupboard in my office. See--the Triangle is getting more fun every day!
For more work news...The Big Cheese took me to lunch today. I've decided that The Big Cheese is a very fitting name for him, as there is something sort of mousy about his eyes. The Big Cheese seemed slightly irritated that we couldn't go to Five Guys Burgers and Fries for lunch, since it's Friday and Lent and I don't eat meat. He paid me back by watching the basketball game through lunch, which irritated the heck out of me. I also got to see my official work portraits that were taken for the website. After viewing them, I realized that I need a haircut, better make up and more sleep. Too bad I didn't know about these things BEFORE I had the pictures taken.
And now it's time to change the subject....
It's Lent and I am weird because I really love Lent. I love the solemnity and the idea of preparing your heart for the coming of Christ. I love that so much of the Mass switches back to Latin. I love the crazy Fish Fry Dinners--one of the things that I was actually sorry about with having to go back to work 5 days a week is that I miss baking all the Fish Fry desserts. This may have been the year that I got brave enough to learn how to use our church's giant and ancient stand mixer that has a clutch. (Yes, you read that right. Our church has a piece of cooking equipment that has a clutch like a car.) This Easter will mark the tenth anniversary of my conversion to the Catholic faith. (I never felt like it was a big leap from Lutheran, although I still miss the celebration of Reformation Sunday, marking the anniversary of Martin Luther nailing his 95 Thesis to the door of Castle Church in Whittenburg. We had a Reformation Day Festival and got to play fun games as kids like "hide in a pickle barrel and pretend to get smuggled out of a nunnery" like Martin Luther's future wife. Yes--that really happened, both the game and the smuggling.) Anyway, back to Lent...I think my two favorite things are that we get to sing one of Palestrina's masterpieces, "O Bone Jesu." If you don't know the piece, this is a great recording on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SqkzQgcexQ4. My other favorite part of Lent is the end--this year we will celebrate the Easter Vigil on April 23rd and have the privilege of witnessing several adults being baptized into the church.
And for something else to keep everything in perspective...
One of my new co-workers has a husband who was diagnosed with Esophageal Cancer about 3 months ago. When I was 6 years old I lost my grandpa to that disease--I could write a whole post about how much that kind of cancer sucks. Anyway, my new work friend's husband had to have a procedure this afternoon because he's no longer able to swallow his own spit. Think about that for awhile and your own life won't seem to suck quite as much.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Let the Crazy Out?
First, you must imagine the title of this post sung to the tune of "Let the Sunshine In," from the musical "Hair," because that's how I'm imagining it.
One of the worst things (at least for me) about having a mental illness is never knowing what's coming and the feeling that you can't trust your feelings, because they might be the beginnings of Crazy, and that's Crazy with a capital "C." I haven't been feeling well lately and I wonder if I'm drifting towards mania. Yes, I've called my doctor and yes, I having an upcoming appointment.
I'm trying to pin everything on the amount of stress that I've been under lately and the big change with going back to work, but I have this underlying dread that it is more. Prior to being diagnosed as bipolar, I thought that mania meant that people were really happy and having fun. My mania, at least, isn't like that. Mine feels more like compulsions, exhaustion (from the inability to make my mind stand still and lack of sleep) and the undertaking of crazy tasks. Right now I feel like I'm being pulled towards a dinner compulsion. I used to be a meal planner, which was good, and it makes sense with going back to work to start that again. The problem is that my need to plan doesn't feel right.
This is where the crappy part of mental illnesses comes in for me. When I was really sick almost 2 years ago and ended up in the hospital I was doing two things that I truly enjoy, but in an unhealthy way. I was cooking and sewing to an extreme. I literally couldn't stop. Once I got better I've never been able to pick up those to things again in the way I used to do them pre-crazy, for fear that they will make me crazy again. It's really hard to feel the need to cut out favorite activities to make yourself safe from your head. Yes, I know that cooking won't make me crazy. Right now this feeling that I need to plan out every meal that I'll make for the next I'm not sure how long is feeling bad.
This concludes the downer part of today's post...
Now for something completely different.
I've found another benefit to my corner. My window overlooks the door to the office building, allowing me to observe the comings and goings of everyone in the office. (Because my corner is in the back hallway, I wouldn't have a way to know if people were in or out without this.) Today this allowed me to play solitaire on my phone (because I had nothing to do) until I saw Mr. X come back from his lunch appointment. When I saw him walk in the door, I was able to go back to reading a really boring investment article.
I've decided to stick with Mr. X as the name for my immediate supervisor. The Big Cheese owns the company and I think tomorrow I will be having lunch with The Big Cheese.
I'm finally able to sing again, after basically losing my voice with illness last October. (Anyone else see the coincidence that I lost my voice in October?) I was able to sing with the choir again at church last night and it's nice to know that some things haven't changed. My biggest choir pet peeve is still there. There is a woman in choir who is a pretty good musician, but she drives me insane. We got a new director about 2 years ago and I think that she is secretly upset that no one asked her to direct, so she feels the need to try and direct from within the body of the choir. I almost whacked her with my hymnal last night after she turned around to tell the men (in a very bad stage whisper) that they were rushing for about the eighth (and I am not exaggerating) time. But then I decided that whacking people with hymnals is not what Jesus would do.
Tonight is the First Grade Play, so it's time to take a nap on the couch before I need to make the Chinese Dumplings, and yes, those things do go together.
One of the worst things (at least for me) about having a mental illness is never knowing what's coming and the feeling that you can't trust your feelings, because they might be the beginnings of Crazy, and that's Crazy with a capital "C." I haven't been feeling well lately and I wonder if I'm drifting towards mania. Yes, I've called my doctor and yes, I having an upcoming appointment.
I'm trying to pin everything on the amount of stress that I've been under lately and the big change with going back to work, but I have this underlying dread that it is more. Prior to being diagnosed as bipolar, I thought that mania meant that people were really happy and having fun. My mania, at least, isn't like that. Mine feels more like compulsions, exhaustion (from the inability to make my mind stand still and lack of sleep) and the undertaking of crazy tasks. Right now I feel like I'm being pulled towards a dinner compulsion. I used to be a meal planner, which was good, and it makes sense with going back to work to start that again. The problem is that my need to plan doesn't feel right.
This is where the crappy part of mental illnesses comes in for me. When I was really sick almost 2 years ago and ended up in the hospital I was doing two things that I truly enjoy, but in an unhealthy way. I was cooking and sewing to an extreme. I literally couldn't stop. Once I got better I've never been able to pick up those to things again in the way I used to do them pre-crazy, for fear that they will make me crazy again. It's really hard to feel the need to cut out favorite activities to make yourself safe from your head. Yes, I know that cooking won't make me crazy. Right now this feeling that I need to plan out every meal that I'll make for the next I'm not sure how long is feeling bad.
This concludes the downer part of today's post...
Now for something completely different.
I've found another benefit to my corner. My window overlooks the door to the office building, allowing me to observe the comings and goings of everyone in the office. (Because my corner is in the back hallway, I wouldn't have a way to know if people were in or out without this.) Today this allowed me to play solitaire on my phone (because I had nothing to do) until I saw Mr. X come back from his lunch appointment. When I saw him walk in the door, I was able to go back to reading a really boring investment article.
I've decided to stick with Mr. X as the name for my immediate supervisor. The Big Cheese owns the company and I think tomorrow I will be having lunch with The Big Cheese.
I'm finally able to sing again, after basically losing my voice with illness last October. (Anyone else see the coincidence that I lost my voice in October?) I was able to sing with the choir again at church last night and it's nice to know that some things haven't changed. My biggest choir pet peeve is still there. There is a woman in choir who is a pretty good musician, but she drives me insane. We got a new director about 2 years ago and I think that she is secretly upset that no one asked her to direct, so she feels the need to try and direct from within the body of the choir. I almost whacked her with my hymnal last night after she turned around to tell the men (in a very bad stage whisper) that they were rushing for about the eighth (and I am not exaggerating) time. But then I decided that whacking people with hymnals is not what Jesus would do.
Tonight is the First Grade Play, so it's time to take a nap on the couch before I need to make the Chinese Dumplings, and yes, those things do go together.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
I Work in a Triangle
So, I decided to start a blog. I have no idea who will read this blog. I don't even know who I'm going to send the website to yet. I just feel like writing it.
I used to go to therapy weekly (sometimes twice a week when things were bad) and while I hated therapy on so many levels (I never want to be asked "how did that make you feel" again), it was nice to talk and have someone be obligated to listen to me. Writing feels sort of like that. I know that I could keep a journal, but I like the idea that this is OUT THERE and that someone (maybe) will hear me. (Also, I would rather type.)
I started my new job this week and I work in a triangle. Literally-my workspace is a triangle--not even a whole cubical. My desk is set at an angle in the corner of a hallway, thus making my triangle. One good thing about my triangle is that one whole wall is a window. The bad thing is my complete and total lack of privacy. I feel like my "phone skills" are being judged every time I talk on the phone, because I can hear everyone in my area on the phone, so I'm sure that they can hear me.
I have been lucky with jobs. I moved from college to having an actual office--a really nice office (although the door didn't lock, which caused other problems that won't be discussed here)--after a brief stint in a conference room. (I made a "Please Don't Tap on the Glass" sign for my conference room at one point.) After my office, I started working from home. I haven't worked in an office in five years. When I arrived at work on Monday and they brought me to my triangle I literally thought that I might cry...which brings me to another point.
I'm in mourning for my old job or my old life or something old... Losing my job last October was horrible and heartbreaking. I didn't really talk about it, partly because my idiot husband (who will not be reading this blog, so I'm allowed to call him that here, maybe just this once) got fired for doing something stupid about a week after I was laid off. It has been almost six months and it still makes me sad to think about losing my job. Although I know that this wasn't the case, I feel like such a failure.
I'm lucky in many ways with my new job. I have great hours that allow me to spend time with my daughter and I'm being well compensated, but my new position is a demotion in job duties. I never thought that my identity was so tied up in what I did before, but it is. On Monday I heard Mr. X (I haven't decided what to call him here yet) on the phone talking to a client. It was a conversation that I have had with clients dozens and dozens of times over the past (almost) 12 years. As I listened to him I realized that I was probably never going to have that conversation again, and, like my triangle, I had to work to not cry. I keep telling myself that this is better--my old situation was a powder keg of stress and not good for my health. I tell myself that this is what I was looking for and what I was wanting. I want a work place that isn't toxic. This will be a job that I can leave at the office at the end of the day. But right now it just feels like something less...kind of like vanilla pudding when that really isn't want you wanted for desert.
Things will get better, I am sure. (Getting a paycheck again will be really nice.) Until then, I am trying think about a movie that I saw in early elementary school. It was called (I think) "My Corner" and was about a little boy that lived in an apartment in the city. He had to share his bedroom and felt like he had no space of his own. His mother made him his own little corner of the apartment, using some furniture to make a divider. Even though I had my own room, I always wanted my own corner (in fact I tried to make several "corners" in my bedroom, but they never looked like the movie) and I guess got my wish...
So, I am The Girl Who Works in a Triangle and I will keep you posted on my adventures...
I used to go to therapy weekly (sometimes twice a week when things were bad) and while I hated therapy on so many levels (I never want to be asked "how did that make you feel" again), it was nice to talk and have someone be obligated to listen to me. Writing feels sort of like that. I know that I could keep a journal, but I like the idea that this is OUT THERE and that someone (maybe) will hear me. (Also, I would rather type.)
I started my new job this week and I work in a triangle. Literally-my workspace is a triangle--not even a whole cubical. My desk is set at an angle in the corner of a hallway, thus making my triangle. One good thing about my triangle is that one whole wall is a window. The bad thing is my complete and total lack of privacy. I feel like my "phone skills" are being judged every time I talk on the phone, because I can hear everyone in my area on the phone, so I'm sure that they can hear me.
I have been lucky with jobs. I moved from college to having an actual office--a really nice office (although the door didn't lock, which caused other problems that won't be discussed here)--after a brief stint in a conference room. (I made a "Please Don't Tap on the Glass" sign for my conference room at one point.) After my office, I started working from home. I haven't worked in an office in five years. When I arrived at work on Monday and they brought me to my triangle I literally thought that I might cry...which brings me to another point.
I'm in mourning for my old job or my old life or something old... Losing my job last October was horrible and heartbreaking. I didn't really talk about it, partly because my idiot husband (who will not be reading this blog, so I'm allowed to call him that here, maybe just this once) got fired for doing something stupid about a week after I was laid off. It has been almost six months and it still makes me sad to think about losing my job. Although I know that this wasn't the case, I feel like such a failure.
I'm lucky in many ways with my new job. I have great hours that allow me to spend time with my daughter and I'm being well compensated, but my new position is a demotion in job duties. I never thought that my identity was so tied up in what I did before, but it is. On Monday I heard Mr. X (I haven't decided what to call him here yet) on the phone talking to a client. It was a conversation that I have had with clients dozens and dozens of times over the past (almost) 12 years. As I listened to him I realized that I was probably never going to have that conversation again, and, like my triangle, I had to work to not cry. I keep telling myself that this is better--my old situation was a powder keg of stress and not good for my health. I tell myself that this is what I was looking for and what I was wanting. I want a work place that isn't toxic. This will be a job that I can leave at the office at the end of the day. But right now it just feels like something less...kind of like vanilla pudding when that really isn't want you wanted for desert.
Things will get better, I am sure. (Getting a paycheck again will be really nice.) Until then, I am trying think about a movie that I saw in early elementary school. It was called (I think) "My Corner" and was about a little boy that lived in an apartment in the city. He had to share his bedroom and felt like he had no space of his own. His mother made him his own little corner of the apartment, using some furniture to make a divider. Even though I had my own room, I always wanted my own corner (in fact I tried to make several "corners" in my bedroom, but they never looked like the movie) and I guess got my wish...
So, I am The Girl Who Works in a Triangle and I will keep you posted on my adventures...
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