Primo: My parents aren't taking care of themselves.
Me: What do you mean?
Primo: My dad says he has stopped cutting his hair. So when I get there, his hair is going to be all wild.
Me: Oh man.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Sunday, June 15, 2014
In which Sly doesn't like the Fathers Day card that Primo sends him and I think Sly is lucky Primo even talks to him at all
Primo: I called.
Me: And?
Primo: I got it over with.
Me: What did your dad say about the card?
Primo: I asked if he got it.
Me: Yes?
Primo: And he said that he had. I had to bring it up.
Me: Did he think it was funny?
Primo: No. He said it was a "love/hate" card.
Me: What? He said that? About the card you sent him?
Primo: Yes.
Me: Remind me. What was on the card again?
Primo: A family in a station wagon with the dad saying, "If you don't knock it off, I am going to stop this car."
Me: Well. I can see why he was offended.
Primo: I thought it was funny. My mom thought it was funny.
Me: Apparently, everyone who was on the review committee at Hallmark thought it was funny or they never would have produced it.
Primo: Yep. My dad does not have a sense of humor.
Me: Nope. And he is not very nice, either.
Primo: Nope. Maybe I shouldn't have sent it.
Me: I think you should have. It's funny and light and it's not offensive and frankly, it's important to stand up to tyrants occasionally. You and I are usually powerless against him because he will take it out on your mom, but every now and then, you have to assert yourself a little.
Primo: Yep.
Me: You are not like your dad.
Primo: No I am not.
Me: And?
Primo: I got it over with.
Me: What did your dad say about the card?
Primo: I asked if he got it.
Me: Yes?
Primo: And he said that he had. I had to bring it up.
Me: Did he think it was funny?
Primo: No. He said it was a "love/hate" card.
Me: What? He said that? About the card you sent him?
Primo: Yes.
Me: Remind me. What was on the card again?
Primo: A family in a station wagon with the dad saying, "If you don't knock it off, I am going to stop this car."
Me: Well. I can see why he was offended.
Primo: I thought it was funny. My mom thought it was funny.
Me: Apparently, everyone who was on the review committee at Hallmark thought it was funny or they never would have produced it.
Primo: Yep. My dad does not have a sense of humor.
Me: Nope. And he is not very nice, either.
Primo: Nope. Maybe I shouldn't have sent it.
Me: I think you should have. It's funny and light and it's not offensive and frankly, it's important to stand up to tyrants occasionally. You and I are usually powerless against him because he will take it out on your mom, but every now and then, you have to assert yourself a little.
Primo: Yep.
Me: You are not like your dad.
Primo: No I am not.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
In which Sly and Doris, who live over 1,000 miles away from us (thank God) call to ask Primo to fix their toilet
No, not really.
They didn't call Primo to have him repair their running toilet. Or their backed-up sink. Or to take the trash out.
They called not once but twice to ask him to repair the wireless connection for their computer.
1. Primo is a PC guy. They have a Mac.
2. Even if Primo were a Mac guy, he is here and they are over 1,000 miles away.
Sly called to ask Primo to repair it. Primo told Sly that he could not fix it - that he was not at their house and he did not know what was wrong and they would have to call someone who is actually - you know, THERE.
Five minutes later, Doris called Primo to ask him to repair the computer wireless.
Primo explained again - because the basic facts of the matter had not changed, that he is HERE and they are THERE.
Which makes me think of the Sesame Street sketch about the difference between HERE and THERE. This is a concept that pre-school children have to be taught but eventually, they do grasp it.
Primo is HERE.
Sly and Doris are THERE.
To do the kind of repair that Sly and Doris wanted, Primo would have to be THERE.
Some computer repairs can be done over the phone. More than once, I have gone through the phone tree with Time Warner to reset the modem when Primo is gone and I can't just consult my resident engineer. It is indeed handy to be married to someone who can fix things. (I highly recommend marrying an engineer for that exact reason: you will rarely have to call a repairman.)
But after Primo explained to Sly, who we all know is the Smartest Man in the World, that Primo could not fix the computer because he was HERE and Sly and the computer were THERE, why did Sly and Doris think the answer would change if Doris called?
Did they think that if Doris called, Primo would be tricked into being THERE? Or did they think that Primo was lying to Sly but would be nicer to Doris because he loves and likes her more than he does Sly? Did Sly, who has a PhD and is not dumb but his PhD is in English which blesshisheart does not grant him an understanding of physics, think that Primo could magically be THERE with just one phone call?
I don't know the answers to these questions. But I do know that I, with a mere BA in English, understand
1. HERE and THERE and
2. some physics
I win.
They didn't call Primo to have him repair their running toilet. Or their backed-up sink. Or to take the trash out.
They called not once but twice to ask him to repair the wireless connection for their computer.
1. Primo is a PC guy. They have a Mac.
2. Even if Primo were a Mac guy, he is here and they are over 1,000 miles away.
Sly called to ask Primo to repair it. Primo told Sly that he could not fix it - that he was not at their house and he did not know what was wrong and they would have to call someone who is actually - you know, THERE.
Five minutes later, Doris called Primo to ask him to repair the computer wireless.
Primo explained again - because the basic facts of the matter had not changed, that he is HERE and they are THERE.
Which makes me think of the Sesame Street sketch about the difference between HERE and THERE. This is a concept that pre-school children have to be taught but eventually, they do grasp it.
Primo is HERE.
Sly and Doris are THERE.
To do the kind of repair that Sly and Doris wanted, Primo would have to be THERE.
Some computer repairs can be done over the phone. More than once, I have gone through the phone tree with Time Warner to reset the modem when Primo is gone and I can't just consult my resident engineer. It is indeed handy to be married to someone who can fix things. (I highly recommend marrying an engineer for that exact reason: you will rarely have to call a repairman.)
But after Primo explained to Sly, who we all know is the Smartest Man in the World, that Primo could not fix the computer because he was HERE and Sly and the computer were THERE, why did Sly and Doris think the answer would change if Doris called?
Did they think that if Doris called, Primo would be tricked into being THERE? Or did they think that Primo was lying to Sly but would be nicer to Doris because he loves and likes her more than he does Sly? Did Sly, who has a PhD and is not dumb but his PhD is in English which blesshisheart does not grant him an understanding of physics, think that Primo could magically be THERE with just one phone call?
I don't know the answers to these questions. But I do know that I, with a mere BA in English, understand
1. HERE and THERE and
2. some physics
I win.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
In which I discover that my failure to negotiate left me paid less than the man they hired to replace me who is doing 10% of the work I did
So you guys know that I got a job two years ago so Primo could take an unpaid leave of absence to run for the state house. I had enjoyed not working for money - there is a lot to be said for sleeping past 6 a.m. and not having a boss, but one of the things that you can not say is that it is lucrative.
We are not rich people. We do not have trust funds. If Sly and Doris continue to buy bourbon at this rate, we will be supporting them very soon.
If Primo was not going to make money, then I had to make money.
I had to get a job. Not an easy thing to do when you have been out of the work force for a few years. But I polished my resume and followed Alison's advice and lo, I got a job interview and then an offer two days later.
I should have known that with an offer that quickly, they wanted me.
But I needed them.
It's never a good position to be in - to need a job more than they need you.
Plus they had told me what the job paid in the very first phone conversation. In the first two minutes. I had felt the blood drain from my face when the recruiter told me the number - it was less than half of what I used to make. It was less than I made before I spoke Spanish fluently and had international experience, both of which were required for the job.
Old salary = X
Old bonus = 20%
New salary = less than X/2
New bonus = hahahahaha. What's a bonus?
I didn't feel that I was in a position to negotiate.
So I didn't.
Wait. I did. When I found out that my health insurance would not start until the first of the month following 30 days (what is wrong with these cheap jerks? Wwo applies a waiting period to salaried professionals? that is just mean and petty, but man, was that a red flag that I should have heeded, but again - I needed the job), I told them they needed to pay my COBRA on Primo's insurance.
They refused, but after a week of negotiating, they finally agreed to raise my salary by $1,000 a year, which still did not change the X/2 formula much.
I swallowed my pride and took the job and then discovered I would be in a cubicle instead of an office and man, was it demoralizing.
Then I moved to a subsidiary of my company for 0.75X, which is still a lot less than they told me the job would pay.
I have since learned that Sergio, the CEO of my company, takes pride in hiring people at the lowest wage he can pay. Perhaps the costs of turnover have not entered his mind. But since I started four months ago, two people have quit, one of them taking a pay cut just to get out of here. There are only nine of us in the US office, so two out of nine is notable. Four have quit in the past year and they quit in the Argentina office, as well. Perhaps lowballing people on pay is not a good long-term strategy.
OldJob hired a replacement for me.
Before I left OldJob, I spent a week putting together a process manual detailing everything I did:
1. Recruiting new franchises
2. Managing existing franchises
3. Promoting existing franchises
4. Opening and managing our office in the Grand Duchy of Fenwick
5. Preparing all the monthly financial reports for my boss and the CEO
6. Preparing all the quarterly reports and presentations for the board of directors
7. Developing new products
My old boss looked at the list and decided that the new person would be doing 1, 2, and 3. Only there is nothing to do for 3, as I had already prepared the entire 2014 promotional calendar and gotten it to the proper people.
So. They hired a new guy to replace me. To do 1 and 2. The other duties have been assigned to my former co-workers.
I found out they are paying him about $20,000 a year more than they paid me.
He is doing far less work.
He does not have my level of experience.
But. I hate to say this because it sounds like the last resort of the whiney - I think it's because he is a man. Part of it is because he negotiated. But I tried to negotiate and I got nowhere. He was probably willing to tell them no, or at least for them to think that. But my old boss doesn't really seem comfortable around professional women. As my Brazilian friend says, "He is from the school that is old."
This is a valuable lesson for me. I will negotiate on my next job. I will not let the guy next to me who is making less of a contribution earn more.
We are not rich people. We do not have trust funds. If Sly and Doris continue to buy bourbon at this rate, we will be supporting them very soon.
If Primo was not going to make money, then I had to make money.
I had to get a job. Not an easy thing to do when you have been out of the work force for a few years. But I polished my resume and followed Alison's advice and lo, I got a job interview and then an offer two days later.
I should have known that with an offer that quickly, they wanted me.
But I needed them.
It's never a good position to be in - to need a job more than they need you.
Plus they had told me what the job paid in the very first phone conversation. In the first two minutes. I had felt the blood drain from my face when the recruiter told me the number - it was less than half of what I used to make. It was less than I made before I spoke Spanish fluently and had international experience, both of which were required for the job.
Old salary = X
Old bonus = 20%
New salary = less than X/2
New bonus = hahahahaha. What's a bonus?
I didn't feel that I was in a position to negotiate.
So I didn't.
Wait. I did. When I found out that my health insurance would not start until the first of the month following 30 days (what is wrong with these cheap jerks? Wwo applies a waiting period to salaried professionals? that is just mean and petty, but man, was that a red flag that I should have heeded, but again - I needed the job), I told them they needed to pay my COBRA on Primo's insurance.
They refused, but after a week of negotiating, they finally agreed to raise my salary by $1,000 a year, which still did not change the X/2 formula much.
I swallowed my pride and took the job and then discovered I would be in a cubicle instead of an office and man, was it demoralizing.
Then I moved to a subsidiary of my company for 0.75X, which is still a lot less than they told me the job would pay.
I have since learned that Sergio, the CEO of my company, takes pride in hiring people at the lowest wage he can pay. Perhaps the costs of turnover have not entered his mind. But since I started four months ago, two people have quit, one of them taking a pay cut just to get out of here. There are only nine of us in the US office, so two out of nine is notable. Four have quit in the past year and they quit in the Argentina office, as well. Perhaps lowballing people on pay is not a good long-term strategy.
OldJob hired a replacement for me.
Before I left OldJob, I spent a week putting together a process manual detailing everything I did:
1. Recruiting new franchises
2. Managing existing franchises
3. Promoting existing franchises
4. Opening and managing our office in the Grand Duchy of Fenwick
5. Preparing all the monthly financial reports for my boss and the CEO
6. Preparing all the quarterly reports and presentations for the board of directors
7. Developing new products
My old boss looked at the list and decided that the new person would be doing 1, 2, and 3. Only there is nothing to do for 3, as I had already prepared the entire 2014 promotional calendar and gotten it to the proper people.
So. They hired a new guy to replace me. To do 1 and 2. The other duties have been assigned to my former co-workers.
I found out they are paying him about $20,000 a year more than they paid me.
He is doing far less work.
He does not have my level of experience.
But. I hate to say this because it sounds like the last resort of the whiney - I think it's because he is a man. Part of it is because he negotiated. But I tried to negotiate and I got nowhere. He was probably willing to tell them no, or at least for them to think that. But my old boss doesn't really seem comfortable around professional women. As my Brazilian friend says, "He is from the school that is old."
This is a valuable lesson for me. I will negotiate on my next job. I will not let the guy next to me who is making less of a contribution earn more.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
In which Primo turns me into the bad guy even though he is the one who doesn't want to have the meetings at our house
Primo: I need to figure out where to meet with the campaign team next week.
Me: Why don't you just meet here?
Primo: Oh, I told them that you wouldn't like it.
Me: What?
Primo: Yes. I told everyone on my team that you didn't want us meeting at the house.
Me: That's not true!
Primo: That's what I told them.
Me: I don't care if you guys meet here, but I am not going to be the hostess. You do what you want, but I am not cooking for you or attending the meeting or cleaning the house. I will be downstairs watching "Call the Midwife."
Primo: I don't want to host! I don't want to have to get food and clean!
Me: I don't care. But don't lie and tell them it's because of me.
A week later. Primo and I are at an art exhibit at an organization dedicated to protecting our constitutional rights. One of the women who is running his campaign works there. Although she and I don't necessarily agree on the partisan issues, we both agree that the Move to Amend movement is absolutely insane and nobody should be trying to alter the First Amendment. We also agree that most people do not understand that the Bill of Rights applies only to what the government can do to you, not to what private employers or individuals can do. See? I can be bipartisan.
I tell her that it was not me who forbade meeting at the house.
Primo rolls his eyes.
Me: I told Primo it would be just fine but that I was not going to cook or clean or attend the meeting. I said you guys could go on with your bad selves* while I watched TV in the basement.
Primo: OK! I admit it! I don't want to have to do all the work!
She laughs. Then we discuss how Primo is 1. a waiter til the last minuter, 2. a panicker, and 3. a freak outer.
She says, "Yes, I know he freaks out. And is super dramatic."
Primo rolls his eyes again. "She told me I get three freak outs in this campaign and I already used one of them last weekend with the interview."
* A phrase that has truly become mainstream if I am using it and is undoubtedly way past date now.
Me: Why don't you just meet here?
Primo: Oh, I told them that you wouldn't like it.
Me: What?
Primo: Yes. I told everyone on my team that you didn't want us meeting at the house.
Me: That's not true!
Primo: That's what I told them.
Me: I don't care if you guys meet here, but I am not going to be the hostess. You do what you want, but I am not cooking for you or attending the meeting or cleaning the house. I will be downstairs watching "Call the Midwife."
Primo: I don't want to host! I don't want to have to get food and clean!
Me: I don't care. But don't lie and tell them it's because of me.
A week later. Primo and I are at an art exhibit at an organization dedicated to protecting our constitutional rights. One of the women who is running his campaign works there. Although she and I don't necessarily agree on the partisan issues, we both agree that the Move to Amend movement is absolutely insane and nobody should be trying to alter the First Amendment. We also agree that most people do not understand that the Bill of Rights applies only to what the government can do to you, not to what private employers or individuals can do. See? I can be bipartisan.
I tell her that it was not me who forbade meeting at the house.
Primo rolls his eyes.
Me: I told Primo it would be just fine but that I was not going to cook or clean or attend the meeting. I said you guys could go on with your bad selves* while I watched TV in the basement.
Primo: OK! I admit it! I don't want to have to do all the work!
She laughs. Then we discuss how Primo is 1. a waiter til the last minuter, 2. a panicker, and 3. a freak outer.
She says, "Yes, I know he freaks out. And is super dramatic."
Primo rolls his eyes again. "She told me I get three freak outs in this campaign and I already used one of them last weekend with the interview."
* A phrase that has truly become mainstream if I am using it and is undoubtedly way past date now.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
In which there is a new head honcho at work and someone whom I like, which makes this hard to write about critically, wants to make a video of everyone in the office singing and dancing to welcome him
You guys, I hate to have my photo taken. I think there are maybe three photos of me ever that don't make me gag and one of them was my second-grade school photo. I can't think of anything taken recently that I like. Wait. There is one that is not horrible but that's because it was airbrushed. My mom loves to take photos and I guess I should be grateful that there is a photographic record of my childhood, but - I LOVE MY MOTHER - it is torture to be photographed by her. She takes forever and she always wants to make tiny adjustments. The other thing is that she waits until the morning that she is pulling out of our driveway after she has been visiting for a week and I have not even showered yet for the day (as if I would even take a shower on the weekend - ha) and that's when she wants to take a pic of Primo and me.
A few years ago, I finally told her that Primo and I would go to a professional photographer, have our pics done, send her copies, and that would be IT. Done forever. No more photos.
I hate how I look in photos. It's either that I don't photograph well or that I look that horrible in real life and I don't like to think about either possibility and either way, I look like the ugliest girl in the class in my photos. What makes it worse is that the camera loves my sister. I don't think I've ever seen a bad photo of her. I don't begrudge her her photogenicity, just like I don't begrudge her her bosom, but I do wonder why she got all the good genes in the family and I didn't.
I hate how I look in photos.
Primo and I had a friend of his - who has turned out to be kind of a nutcase - divorced her husband of two years, got a boob job, got a knife tatooed on her thigh, started dating some lowlife musician, changed her last name to something from a character from a science fiction movie, posted stuff on facebook about giving him - well - certain sexual favors - and when some of her friends suggested gently that perhaps she might want to slow down on her post-divorce mania, unfriended every single person she knew on facebook - take our photos. Despite her current insanity, she is a decent photographer or at least a decent photoshopper, because in the photos she sent to us, my eyelids do not droop and there are no wrinkles.
I actually don't care about the wrinkles that much. I don't have that many, maybe because I am vigilant about staying out of the sun or maybe because I am not old enough for wrinkles yet, but I do have droops. Gravity is the law. Things on my face are falling and it is quite distressing and my distress is distressing because I never thought I was pretty or vain but now I realize that at least in my 20s, my face stayed where it was supposed to stay. I am in mourning for my youth and the youthful looks I didn't even know to appreciate.
Any of you readers under 40, look in the mirror and appreciate your tight, youthful skin. Look at your abdomen and appreciate it there. You can weigh the same at 18 as you do in your 40s but it doesn't look the same because your skin doesn't hold it all in.
Anyhow, the photographer airbrushed me and I don't look horrible. I don't look like me, but it doesn't make me wince to see the photo.
What does this have to do with anything?
When I started working two years ago, on day 1, a woman showed up with a camera. They wanted my photo to put on the intra-company website.
I said I didn't want my photo taken thankyouverymuch and I was told it was not optional, which I thought was BS because how can they force you to have your photo taken? So I was a bitch to the perfectly nice person from communications who was just trying to do her job and I was pissy and in my photo I am scowling and I look pissed off because I was pissed off and then the secretary who deliberately sabotaged my lunchtime gym going printed my photo and put it up next to the printer by the other photos of everyone in my group so every time I picked up a print job, I had to be careful not to look at myself because I hate the way I look. (That is a very good reason to be nearsighted and never wear glasses, btw - if you accidentally look at yourself in the ladies' room mirror, you won't see much because you are nearsighted.)
I got that stupid photo deal over with and thought I was safe until last week when someone from my company's parent company emailed and said that we have a new CEO and wouldn't it be so fun if she made a video of everyone singing and dancing to a song that shall be unnamed just in case someone from work googles this whole concept. I really like the person who suggested this and my only conclusion is that someone hijacked her email. I don't want to be mean but I think this is one of the stupidest ideas I have ever heard.
Let's say the song is "Take this job and shove it," which of course it would never be because that would not be the proper message to send to a new CEO and also because you really can't dance to it.
So we are supposed to video ourselves dancing and lip-syncing to the popular song du jour and I don't want to do it.
1. I hate having my photo taken. Did I express that idea before?
2. In addition to hating having my photo taken, I also prefer not to dance
a. at work
b. in front of people from work
c. in broad florescent light
d. without alcohol
Then the third thing is - have I mentioned that I work for an organization that is having financial problems?
One co-worker said, "The new CEO would probably be a lot more impressed to see a video of everyone working."
Let me tell you the fourth thing:
The new CEO is a retired admiral. For those of you not up to date on your military ranks, admiral is the four-star general of the navy.
You don't get to be an admiral by singing and dancing in videos. You don't get to be an admiral by being impressed by singing and dancing employees in videos. Can you imagine a ship of sailors welcoming the new admiral with a video?
I posted a comment about the situation on a blog I really like and another commenter said, "If I were the new CEO coming into an underperforming (sic) organization and saw such a video, I would know exactly where things had gone off the rails."
I will let you know how the new CEO reacts to the video. They are launching it at a welcome potluck lunch.
Oh yes. I said it. A welcome POTLUCK lunch. Discuss amongst yourselves.
A few years ago, I finally told her that Primo and I would go to a professional photographer, have our pics done, send her copies, and that would be IT. Done forever. No more photos.
I hate how I look in photos. It's either that I don't photograph well or that I look that horrible in real life and I don't like to think about either possibility and either way, I look like the ugliest girl in the class in my photos. What makes it worse is that the camera loves my sister. I don't think I've ever seen a bad photo of her. I don't begrudge her her photogenicity, just like I don't begrudge her her bosom, but I do wonder why she got all the good genes in the family and I didn't.
I hate how I look in photos.
Primo and I had a friend of his - who has turned out to be kind of a nutcase - divorced her husband of two years, got a boob job, got a knife tatooed on her thigh, started dating some lowlife musician, changed her last name to something from a character from a science fiction movie, posted stuff on facebook about giving him - well - certain sexual favors - and when some of her friends suggested gently that perhaps she might want to slow down on her post-divorce mania, unfriended every single person she knew on facebook - take our photos. Despite her current insanity, she is a decent photographer or at least a decent photoshopper, because in the photos she sent to us, my eyelids do not droop and there are no wrinkles.
I actually don't care about the wrinkles that much. I don't have that many, maybe because I am vigilant about staying out of the sun or maybe because I am not old enough for wrinkles yet, but I do have droops. Gravity is the law. Things on my face are falling and it is quite distressing and my distress is distressing because I never thought I was pretty or vain but now I realize that at least in my 20s, my face stayed where it was supposed to stay. I am in mourning for my youth and the youthful looks I didn't even know to appreciate.
Any of you readers under 40, look in the mirror and appreciate your tight, youthful skin. Look at your abdomen and appreciate it there. You can weigh the same at 18 as you do in your 40s but it doesn't look the same because your skin doesn't hold it all in.
Anyhow, the photographer airbrushed me and I don't look horrible. I don't look like me, but it doesn't make me wince to see the photo.
What does this have to do with anything?
When I started working two years ago, on day 1, a woman showed up with a camera. They wanted my photo to put on the intra-company website.
I said I didn't want my photo taken thankyouverymuch and I was told it was not optional, which I thought was BS because how can they force you to have your photo taken? So I was a bitch to the perfectly nice person from communications who was just trying to do her job and I was pissy and in my photo I am scowling and I look pissed off because I was pissed off and then the secretary who deliberately sabotaged my lunchtime gym going printed my photo and put it up next to the printer by the other photos of everyone in my group so every time I picked up a print job, I had to be careful not to look at myself because I hate the way I look. (That is a very good reason to be nearsighted and never wear glasses, btw - if you accidentally look at yourself in the ladies' room mirror, you won't see much because you are nearsighted.)
I got that stupid photo deal over with and thought I was safe until last week when someone from my company's parent company emailed and said that we have a new CEO and wouldn't it be so fun if she made a video of everyone singing and dancing to a song that shall be unnamed just in case someone from work googles this whole concept. I really like the person who suggested this and my only conclusion is that someone hijacked her email. I don't want to be mean but I think this is one of the stupidest ideas I have ever heard.
Let's say the song is "Take this job and shove it," which of course it would never be because that would not be the proper message to send to a new CEO and also because you really can't dance to it.
So we are supposed to video ourselves dancing and lip-syncing to the popular song du jour and I don't want to do it.
1. I hate having my photo taken. Did I express that idea before?
2. In addition to hating having my photo taken, I also prefer not to dance
a. at work
b. in front of people from work
c. in broad florescent light
d. without alcohol
Then the third thing is - have I mentioned that I work for an organization that is having financial problems?
One co-worker said, "The new CEO would probably be a lot more impressed to see a video of everyone working."
Let me tell you the fourth thing:
The new CEO is a retired admiral. For those of you not up to date on your military ranks, admiral is the four-star general of the navy.
You don't get to be an admiral by singing and dancing in videos. You don't get to be an admiral by being impressed by singing and dancing employees in videos. Can you imagine a ship of sailors welcoming the new admiral with a video?
I posted a comment about the situation on a blog I really like and another commenter said, "If I were the new CEO coming into an underperforming (sic) organization and saw such a video, I would know exactly where things had gone off the rails."
I will let you know how the new CEO reacts to the video. They are launching it at a welcome potluck lunch.
Oh yes. I said it. A welcome POTLUCK lunch. Discuss amongst yourselves.
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
As Dolly Parton said, "I don't mind dumb blonde jokes because I know I am not dumb and I know I am not blonde."
Someone wrote this about my blog on some review site. I think I am flattered - but is being a prat a good thing or a bad thing?
Well, as long as it brings readers, I guess I am happy! So welcome, makeupalley.com readers! Glad to have you.
Well, as long as it brings readers, I guess I am happy! So welcome, makeupalley.com readers! Glad to have you.
Oh my god you guys will LOVE THIS BLOG for real. Blog to vent about this woman's in-laws and +
Monday, May 5, 2014
In which weird stuff starts happening in the campaign so I have to postpone posts until after the election
Oh you guys. There are weird people out there. But weird people = great material, so I just smile and take notes.
However, some of these weird people could potentially be very damaging if they ever read this blog, so I am going to be discreet (sort of) and delay some posts until after the election, as I did with Primo's first run for office. I will post innocuous stuff here up until November, but the truly bizarre events will have to wait.
However, some of these weird people could potentially be very damaging if they ever read this blog, so I am going to be discreet (sort of) and delay some posts until after the election, as I did with Primo's first run for office. I will post innocuous stuff here up until November, but the truly bizarre events will have to wait.
Thursday, May 1, 2014
In which Becky walks off the job
You guys, I have usually worked with professionals who take pride in what they do. Sure, we all complain about the boss and about the CEO and the CEO's wife, who has decided that a Fortune 100's main charity should be something completely unrelated to the company's business -
I won't give you the real company and the real stupid charity because that would be stupid of me, but let's say that the company made steel and the charity was Feed the Kitties in Finland. Not that I am against feeding the kitties - I am not - I love the kitties - but what on earth does feeding kitties have to do with making steel? A company's charitable enterprises still should support the overall mission of the company. They are not supposed to be the whim of someone who does not even work at the company.
So yeah I have worked with people who do the normal griping about the things that normal people gripe about, but when it comes down to it, we have all done our jobs and done them well. We don't blow things off so our co-workers are stuck with them. We try to work together even when we don't like each other very much. We do what needs to be done because 1. we are not working as a hobby and 2. we take pride in doing good work.
One thing we do not do is say, "That's not my job." I hate hearing that. When I was a clerk at Macy's, I heard other clerks saying that. "That's not my job," even when it was a customer asking something reasonable. Your job is to help the customer and to do what it takes to increase sales, as long as it is moral, legal, and ethical. You might not like picking prom dresses up off the dressing room floor, but yes, that is your job.
I now work with an interesting bunch. A few super people and then a few with the "it's not my job" attitude.
How can it not be your job to think of better ways to do your job? How can it not be your job to help prepare documents for your replacement? How can it not be your job to share what is happening with your customers with the rest of the group?
My boss is the highest-ranking person in my office, but he is not the boss of anyone else but me. Still, he is doing what he can to improve office operations and morale. He has implemented a weekly meeting for the entire office. The first few times, half the people sat there with their arms folded. Didn't have anything to say when my boss asked them what was going on in their areas. Two of the people didn't even sit at the table - they sat against the wall.
My boss and I talked about it. I think he's doing the right thing - we have to do something to improve morale and operations - but it will take time. I told him half the office hated the meetings. He didn't believe me.
"When Sergio was here, he asked if people wanted to have a weekly meeting and they said yes!" he exclaimed.
I shook my head. "Nobody dares contradict Sergio to his face," I said. "Haven't you noticed how they sit there with their arms folded?"
Nope. He hadn't. Bless his heart my boss is really good at what he does, but he is not a reader of people and is just not interested. Primo is the same way. We were walking through the airport here once - plain midwestern city airport - and among the jeans and sweatshirted and mulleted I spied two Buddhist monks in saffron robes.
"Omigosh!" I said to Primo when I caught up to him. "Did you see the monks?"
"The what?" he asked.
"The monks! The two Buddhist monks!"
"Nope," he said.
"THEY WERE WEARING SAFFRON ROBES! THEY WALKED RIGHT PAST YOU! HOW COULD YOU MISS THEM?"
He shrugged. "I don't pay attention to anything but my goal."
(Note that intense focus disappears when we are at home and he has the distractions of facebook and the cats and potato chips.)
My boss doesn't notice things like that. I suggested that he insist that everyone sit at the table. "You cannot have everyone at the table - you cannot have everyone agree - if some of the team literally is not at the table," I said.
Notice how I used "literally" in its literal sense. Do you like how I did that?
He agreed and the next meeting, everyone was at the table. And today, I asked one woman, one of the folded-arms group, to tell us about what she has been complaining about. She said it was nothing but I said that nope, it was a valid issue and we should all hear it.
So this is the climate - people who do not want to think.
Which leads to the bigger question: Why not? Are we hiring non-thinking it's not my job-ers?? Or do we hire thinkers and then convert them to non-thinking it's not my job-ers?
Last week, Becky resigned. Gave her two weeks' notice. Today, she had only a few days left. I thought we would probably have a lunch for her on her last day.
She was cranky, though. Her boss wanted her to put together a process manual for her replacement (who has yet to be hired, but a temp is coming in tomorrow to be trained). Becky was complaining that writing a process manual was not her job, it was her boss' job.
Of course, her boss probably does not know how to do Becky's job. A manager does not have to know how to do everything her subordinates do.
When I got back from lunch, I learned that Becky had walked out. Just quit. Left her badge. Did not serve out her notice period.
Just. Quit.
I have not been in that situation before - where someone just walked out.
One co-worker mused that maybe Becky was just like that. I asked if she had suspected it when they hired Becky. Nope, the co-worker said. She had interviewed Becky and liked her.
So the question is again: is my company hiring the wrong people, the people with the bad, unprofessional attitude? Or is it hiring good people and turning them bad?
I won't give you the real company and the real stupid charity because that would be stupid of me, but let's say that the company made steel and the charity was Feed the Kitties in Finland. Not that I am against feeding the kitties - I am not - I love the kitties - but what on earth does feeding kitties have to do with making steel? A company's charitable enterprises still should support the overall mission of the company. They are not supposed to be the whim of someone who does not even work at the company.
So yeah I have worked with people who do the normal griping about the things that normal people gripe about, but when it comes down to it, we have all done our jobs and done them well. We don't blow things off so our co-workers are stuck with them. We try to work together even when we don't like each other very much. We do what needs to be done because 1. we are not working as a hobby and 2. we take pride in doing good work.
One thing we do not do is say, "That's not my job." I hate hearing that. When I was a clerk at Macy's, I heard other clerks saying that. "That's not my job," even when it was a customer asking something reasonable. Your job is to help the customer and to do what it takes to increase sales, as long as it is moral, legal, and ethical. You might not like picking prom dresses up off the dressing room floor, but yes, that is your job.
I now work with an interesting bunch. A few super people and then a few with the "it's not my job" attitude.
How can it not be your job to think of better ways to do your job? How can it not be your job to help prepare documents for your replacement? How can it not be your job to share what is happening with your customers with the rest of the group?
My boss is the highest-ranking person in my office, but he is not the boss of anyone else but me. Still, he is doing what he can to improve office operations and morale. He has implemented a weekly meeting for the entire office. The first few times, half the people sat there with their arms folded. Didn't have anything to say when my boss asked them what was going on in their areas. Two of the people didn't even sit at the table - they sat against the wall.
My boss and I talked about it. I think he's doing the right thing - we have to do something to improve morale and operations - but it will take time. I told him half the office hated the meetings. He didn't believe me.
"When Sergio was here, he asked if people wanted to have a weekly meeting and they said yes!" he exclaimed.
I shook my head. "Nobody dares contradict Sergio to his face," I said. "Haven't you noticed how they sit there with their arms folded?"
Nope. He hadn't. Bless his heart my boss is really good at what he does, but he is not a reader of people and is just not interested. Primo is the same way. We were walking through the airport here once - plain midwestern city airport - and among the jeans and sweatshirted and mulleted I spied two Buddhist monks in saffron robes.
"Omigosh!" I said to Primo when I caught up to him. "Did you see the monks?"
"The what?" he asked.
"The monks! The two Buddhist monks!"
"Nope," he said.
"THEY WERE WEARING SAFFRON ROBES! THEY WALKED RIGHT PAST YOU! HOW COULD YOU MISS THEM?"
He shrugged. "I don't pay attention to anything but my goal."
(Note that intense focus disappears when we are at home and he has the distractions of facebook and the cats and potato chips.)
My boss doesn't notice things like that. I suggested that he insist that everyone sit at the table. "You cannot have everyone at the table - you cannot have everyone agree - if some of the team literally is not at the table," I said.
Notice how I used "literally" in its literal sense. Do you like how I did that?
He agreed and the next meeting, everyone was at the table. And today, I asked one woman, one of the folded-arms group, to tell us about what she has been complaining about. She said it was nothing but I said that nope, it was a valid issue and we should all hear it.
So this is the climate - people who do not want to think.
Which leads to the bigger question: Why not? Are we hiring non-thinking it's not my job-ers?? Or do we hire thinkers and then convert them to non-thinking it's not my job-ers?
Last week, Becky resigned. Gave her two weeks' notice. Today, she had only a few days left. I thought we would probably have a lunch for her on her last day.
She was cranky, though. Her boss wanted her to put together a process manual for her replacement (who has yet to be hired, but a temp is coming in tomorrow to be trained). Becky was complaining that writing a process manual was not her job, it was her boss' job.
Of course, her boss probably does not know how to do Becky's job. A manager does not have to know how to do everything her subordinates do.
When I got back from lunch, I learned that Becky had walked out. Just quit. Left her badge. Did not serve out her notice period.
Just. Quit.
I have not been in that situation before - where someone just walked out.
One co-worker mused that maybe Becky was just like that. I asked if she had suspected it when they hired Becky. Nope, the co-worker said. She had interviewed Becky and liked her.
So the question is again: is my company hiring the wrong people, the people with the bad, unprofessional attitude? Or is it hiring good people and turning them bad?
Thursday, April 10, 2014
In which Isabel continues - yes, continues - to cause problems
Primo resolved the timeshare deal. He sent them the death certificate and then paid the past-due monies.
"It's in my name," he said, "and it's my credit rating that's affected."
Which makes sense.
The next part of the plan is to give the timeshare to Laura and Kate, who will reimburse him what he paid.
But - Primo also got a statement from Merrill Lynch about an account that was supposed to have gone to Isabel. She never took his name off the account.
Isabel blessherheart was very financially irresponsible and incredibly disorganized.
Let's review. Since her death, we have learned that she
1. had paid years of storage fees for a wine locker even though she had room at her new house to store the wine. She never even got any wine out of it.
2. never took Primo's name off the timeshare and she borrowed money to buy more timeshares, even though she had to borrow money from her mother to pay her medical bills
3. never took Primo's name off the Merrill Lynch account
Let's not forget that she came to Primo for money to pay her taxes last fall. If I had been smarter - again, always fighting the last war - I would have asked Primo to ask her if there were any expenses she could cut, like the timeshare.
Seems to me if you are having problems paying your taxes, you don't invest in vacation property. But that's just me.
So Primo got the ML statement. There is enough money in there to cover what he paid on the timeshare.
He is going to send the death certificate to ML, take the money out of the account, keep what he needs to cover the timeshare, and send the rest of the money to Laura and Kate.
Don't be Isabel. Don't be irresponsible and leave all the work for your family after your death. People will not think kindly of you.
"It's in my name," he said, "and it's my credit rating that's affected."
Which makes sense.
The next part of the plan is to give the timeshare to Laura and Kate, who will reimburse him what he paid.
But - Primo also got a statement from Merrill Lynch about an account that was supposed to have gone to Isabel. She never took his name off the account.
Isabel blessherheart was very financially irresponsible and incredibly disorganized.
Let's review. Since her death, we have learned that she
1. had paid years of storage fees for a wine locker even though she had room at her new house to store the wine. She never even got any wine out of it.
2. never took Primo's name off the timeshare and she borrowed money to buy more timeshares, even though she had to borrow money from her mother to pay her medical bills
3. never took Primo's name off the Merrill Lynch account
Let's not forget that she came to Primo for money to pay her taxes last fall. If I had been smarter - again, always fighting the last war - I would have asked Primo to ask her if there were any expenses she could cut, like the timeshare.
Seems to me if you are having problems paying your taxes, you don't invest in vacation property. But that's just me.
So Primo got the ML statement. There is enough money in there to cover what he paid on the timeshare.
He is going to send the death certificate to ML, take the money out of the account, keep what he needs to cover the timeshare, and send the rest of the money to Laura and Kate.
Don't be Isabel. Don't be irresponsible and leave all the work for your family after your death. People will not think kindly of you.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
In which I discover a former co-worker was trying to undermine me all along and I just about lose faith in humanity
I have moved, as I mentioned, to a new group at work. That means I left my former group behind. I am, however, still friends with the people in my former group. Let's call them Isabel, Monica, and Bob.
The woman who was my boss' administrative assistant is no longer there. She quit at about the same time I did. I volunteered to be a reference for her. I understood how crazy making our boss was - we all speculated that perhaps he was suffering from early-onset Alzheimer's or had had some mini strokes or that he was having a reaction to medication he might be taking. His behavior was irrational and unpredictable and it confused us and made for a very uncomfortable workplace.
The admin - Brenda - was a basically nice person, but sometimes a little prickly. She seemed efficient and capable to me and seemed focused on getting her job done. She didn't gossip about our other teammates to me, although she and I together would gossip about our boss, mostly because we were trying to figure out what the heck was going on with him.
She stumbled across the fact that I was interviewing with a different division of the company but promised she would keep it a secret. As far as I know, she did.
She had already confided in me long before my job search that she was looking for a new job. I listened to her stories about interviews and encouraged her and wished her well.
When I traveled outside the US for work, I brought back little presents for everyone in the office, including her.
I didn't think we were friends, but I thought we were friendly.
I didn't try to undermine her. I tried to support her and tried to help her with her job search.
She got a new job. I did serve as a reference.
And then, last week, when I was telling Isabel and Monica about the crazy in my new job, they told me that Brenda used to complain about my two-hour lunches and how I left early a lot.
"She would come to me and say, 'Did you know that Goldie left early today? Are you going to do something about it?'" Monica said. By the way, Monica was officially my boss, but our big boss wouldn't let her manage. He still wanted to run everything.
I gasped. "But why would she care?"
Monica shrugged. "I told you not to trust her. She said that to me several times until I finally told her that I did not care and I did not want her telling me."
I told the story to Isabel. "Oh yes!" Isabel said. "She would tell me that, too, and she would complain that you took two-hour lunches!"
I shook my head. "But I didn't take two-hour lunches."
"I know," Isabel said. "But she didn't like that you blocked your calendar from 11:30 to 1:30 so she would deliberately schedule meetings to start at 1:00."
I gasped again. "I always wondered why she seemed to ignore my calendar, but it was always for meetings with the Big Boss and I just assumed that was the only time he had to meet, so I wouldn't ask her to reschedule."
It's not a good idea to tell the Big Boss that you want to reschedule his meeting so you can attend body pump or spin.
"She did it on purpose," Isabel said. "She would say that you shouldn't be taking such a long lunch."
"But I didn't!" I said. "I blocked my calendar so I could get to the noon class and stay for the entire class, but I wasn't taking two hours."
"I know," Isabel said. "And even if you were, it wasn't her business."
I got indignant. "Did she know that I had actually cleared a longer lunch with my boss? Did she know I work on weekends? That I would have conference calls with the Middle East at 6:30 a.m.?"
Isabel said, "Does it even matter? It was none of her business! That's the main issue! She was not your boss and your boss did not care. Why was she tattling? What was it to her?"
I guess I am lucky to have made it this far in my life before encountering someone that spiteful and mean, but I still don't understand why someone would care so much about what someone else does when it has nothing to do with her. Have you guys encountered people like that?
The woman who was my boss' administrative assistant is no longer there. She quit at about the same time I did. I volunteered to be a reference for her. I understood how crazy making our boss was - we all speculated that perhaps he was suffering from early-onset Alzheimer's or had had some mini strokes or that he was having a reaction to medication he might be taking. His behavior was irrational and unpredictable and it confused us and made for a very uncomfortable workplace.
The admin - Brenda - was a basically nice person, but sometimes a little prickly. She seemed efficient and capable to me and seemed focused on getting her job done. She didn't gossip about our other teammates to me, although she and I together would gossip about our boss, mostly because we were trying to figure out what the heck was going on with him.
She stumbled across the fact that I was interviewing with a different division of the company but promised she would keep it a secret. As far as I know, she did.
She had already confided in me long before my job search that she was looking for a new job. I listened to her stories about interviews and encouraged her and wished her well.
When I traveled outside the US for work, I brought back little presents for everyone in the office, including her.
I didn't think we were friends, but I thought we were friendly.
I didn't try to undermine her. I tried to support her and tried to help her with her job search.
She got a new job. I did serve as a reference.
And then, last week, when I was telling Isabel and Monica about the crazy in my new job, they told me that Brenda used to complain about my two-hour lunches and how I left early a lot.
"She would come to me and say, 'Did you know that Goldie left early today? Are you going to do something about it?'" Monica said. By the way, Monica was officially my boss, but our big boss wouldn't let her manage. He still wanted to run everything.
I gasped. "But why would she care?"
Monica shrugged. "I told you not to trust her. She said that to me several times until I finally told her that I did not care and I did not want her telling me."
I told the story to Isabel. "Oh yes!" Isabel said. "She would tell me that, too, and she would complain that you took two-hour lunches!"
I shook my head. "But I didn't take two-hour lunches."
"I know," Isabel said. "But she didn't like that you blocked your calendar from 11:30 to 1:30 so she would deliberately schedule meetings to start at 1:00."
I gasped again. "I always wondered why she seemed to ignore my calendar, but it was always for meetings with the Big Boss and I just assumed that was the only time he had to meet, so I wouldn't ask her to reschedule."
It's not a good idea to tell the Big Boss that you want to reschedule his meeting so you can attend body pump or spin.
"She did it on purpose," Isabel said. "She would say that you shouldn't be taking such a long lunch."
"But I didn't!" I said. "I blocked my calendar so I could get to the noon class and stay for the entire class, but I wasn't taking two hours."
"I know," Isabel said. "And even if you were, it wasn't her business."
I got indignant. "Did she know that I had actually cleared a longer lunch with my boss? Did she know I work on weekends? That I would have conference calls with the Middle East at 6:30 a.m.?"
Isabel said, "Does it even matter? It was none of her business! That's the main issue! She was not your boss and your boss did not care. Why was she tattling? What was it to her?"
I guess I am lucky to have made it this far in my life before encountering someone that spiteful and mean, but I still don't understand why someone would care so much about what someone else does when it has nothing to do with her. Have you guys encountered people like that?
Monday, March 31, 2014
In which I win Cuban coffee from my friend Marta's blog
You guys, I am so excited - I won the coffee package Marta had on her blog! Go see - and read her blog. It's fun. I have been a Marta fan for years. I even have her cookbook and have made several of the recipes in it.
Oh! And she was on the BBC website this morning! Can you imagine what a shock it is - maybe it isn't a shock for you - maybe you are used to such things but I am not - to see someone you know quoted at the BBC? They did a story on the cold war and talked to Marta about it!
I know the neatest people. (Not in person, but if I ever get to LA, I am totally inviting myself to Marta's for homemade pastelitos de guayaba.)
(I have met Lisa in person and Holly and Rubi and have a long list of others I want to meet.)
Oh! And she was on the BBC website this morning! Can you imagine what a shock it is - maybe it isn't a shock for you - maybe you are used to such things but I am not - to see someone you know quoted at the BBC? They did a story on the cold war and talked to Marta about it!
I know the neatest people. (Not in person, but if I ever get to LA, I am totally inviting myself to Marta's for homemade pastelitos de guayaba.)
(I have met Lisa in person and Holly and Rubi and have a long list of others I want to meet.)
Thursday, March 27, 2014
In which Tanya complains loudly that she is tired of "this petty shit" and the radio is killed forever
I moved into the office, but not before someone sitting near to my cubicle sent an email to Kyle complaining about how I identified the company and myself on the phone.
Have I already talked about this?
Let's say my company is called Apple. We have that degree of brand recognition in our market.
But Sergio decided that with the growth of the company via acquisition that we needed a new identity. So we changed the company name from Apple to The Sunshine Company.
1. Nobody has ever heard of The Sunshine Company
2. Nobody has ever heard of me.
So when I called customers to introduce myself I said, "This is Goldie at Apple" so they would take my darn call. Then, during the call, the customer would say, "Haven't you guys changed your name to The Sunshine Company? Why would you do that? That is so, so stupid. We hate it."
And I just had to smile and toe the company line, because badmouthing the CEO is poor form in most places.
Someone sent Kyle an email complaining that I was saying I was from Apple and not from The Sunshine Company.
Kyle sent it to my boss because why should Kyle deal with this crap? My boss emailed it back to me and said what's up with this?
I went to my boss and said, "Is this a kindergarten? What is this tattling crap? If someone had a problem, why didn't she just say something to me? And HOW IS IT HER BUSINESS ANYHOW?"
I was cranky.
My boss is in a big corner office with windows and a door. He is insulated from all of this so he doesn't care.
Whatever.
Then Bridget pulled me aside.
"Trust no one," she said.
Well. That's not something I am used to hearing from a co-worker. But it was valuable advice and certainly fit with what I had figured out so far.
Fast forward a few weeks. I am in the office. I have a door. I close it. When I close the door, it is blissfully quiet. So I no longer need to comment on the radio. I no longer have a dog in this fight. My problem has been solved. I am happy.
I work at home one day because I have a doctor's appointment in the middle of the day. I check my email when I get back from the doctor. There is an all-office note from Kyle: Effective immediately, there will be no radio in the office.
Wonderful!
Except - wait. Crap. Somehow, this will be blamed on me.
The next morning, I go straight to Kyle's office. "What's the deal with the radio?" I ask.
"Close the door," he says.
"I was just up in HR, minding my own business, taking care of an insurance thing," he said, "when the HR director, Bill, asked me to talk to him. I went into Bill's office, wondering what I had done wrong. Turns out that someone had complained to HR about Tanya."
Well. Now I was interested.
"Tanya came into the office late on Tuesday. The radio was off. The radio was off because there was a problem with the reception and they couldn't get a good signal from any station, so everyone who was there agreed just to turn it off for the day."
"She walked in and without even asking for information, went straight to the radio, turned it back on, and said loudly enough that everyone in the office could hear her, 'I am TIRED of this petty shit!'"
My jaw dropped. Whoa! This was even better than the Hand of Stop Talking!
But why hadn't I heard this?
"When was this again?" I asked.
"About 10 on Tuesday," he answered.
Ah. Right when I was across the street at the public library in one of their tiny conference rooms, having a phone interview with Big Company. No wonder I hadn't heard anything.
Kyle continued. "So someone complained to HR about her. And you know Bill - they think they need to deal with everything. I don't know why someone didn't just come to me if they were unhappy about Tanya. I'm Tanya's boss."
He sighed. "So Sergio got a phone call and so did Sofia and everyone had to get involved and I'm going, 'This is all about a darn radio?' and I cannot believe this is how this organization is run - that the CEO has to be involved in this kind of decision, but the new rule is no radio."
If Tanya had just kept her mouth shut, she would still have her tunes. She has nobody to blame but herself.
Have I already talked about this?
Let's say my company is called Apple. We have that degree of brand recognition in our market.
But Sergio decided that with the growth of the company via acquisition that we needed a new identity. So we changed the company name from Apple to The Sunshine Company.
1. Nobody has ever heard of The Sunshine Company
2. Nobody has ever heard of me.
So when I called customers to introduce myself I said, "This is Goldie at Apple" so they would take my darn call. Then, during the call, the customer would say, "Haven't you guys changed your name to The Sunshine Company? Why would you do that? That is so, so stupid. We hate it."
And I just had to smile and toe the company line, because badmouthing the CEO is poor form in most places.
Someone sent Kyle an email complaining that I was saying I was from Apple and not from The Sunshine Company.
Kyle sent it to my boss because why should Kyle deal with this crap? My boss emailed it back to me and said what's up with this?
I went to my boss and said, "Is this a kindergarten? What is this tattling crap? If someone had a problem, why didn't she just say something to me? And HOW IS IT HER BUSINESS ANYHOW?"
I was cranky.
My boss is in a big corner office with windows and a door. He is insulated from all of this so he doesn't care.
Whatever.
Then Bridget pulled me aside.
"Trust no one," she said.
Well. That's not something I am used to hearing from a co-worker. But it was valuable advice and certainly fit with what I had figured out so far.
Fast forward a few weeks. I am in the office. I have a door. I close it. When I close the door, it is blissfully quiet. So I no longer need to comment on the radio. I no longer have a dog in this fight. My problem has been solved. I am happy.
I work at home one day because I have a doctor's appointment in the middle of the day. I check my email when I get back from the doctor. There is an all-office note from Kyle: Effective immediately, there will be no radio in the office.
Wonderful!
Except - wait. Crap. Somehow, this will be blamed on me.
The next morning, I go straight to Kyle's office. "What's the deal with the radio?" I ask.
"Close the door," he says.
"I was just up in HR, minding my own business, taking care of an insurance thing," he said, "when the HR director, Bill, asked me to talk to him. I went into Bill's office, wondering what I had done wrong. Turns out that someone had complained to HR about Tanya."
Well. Now I was interested.
"Tanya came into the office late on Tuesday. The radio was off. The radio was off because there was a problem with the reception and they couldn't get a good signal from any station, so everyone who was there agreed just to turn it off for the day."
"She walked in and without even asking for information, went straight to the radio, turned it back on, and said loudly enough that everyone in the office could hear her, 'I am TIRED of this petty shit!'"
My jaw dropped. Whoa! This was even better than the Hand of Stop Talking!
But why hadn't I heard this?
"When was this again?" I asked.
"About 10 on Tuesday," he answered.
Ah. Right when I was across the street at the public library in one of their tiny conference rooms, having a phone interview with Big Company. No wonder I hadn't heard anything.
Kyle continued. "So someone complained to HR about her. And you know Bill - they think they need to deal with everything. I don't know why someone didn't just come to me if they were unhappy about Tanya. I'm Tanya's boss."
He sighed. "So Sergio got a phone call and so did Sofia and everyone had to get involved and I'm going, 'This is all about a darn radio?' and I cannot believe this is how this organization is run - that the CEO has to be involved in this kind of decision, but the new rule is no radio."
If Tanya had just kept her mouth shut, she would still have her tunes. She has nobody to blame but herself.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
In which the CEO kicks Bridget out of her office and me into her office
The radio continued to play. I continued to wear earplugs and a headset and to listen to the sound of a B52 bomber and the rain and the waves crashing into the shore. By the end of the day, my temples hurt because of the pressure of the headset on my glasses and I was cranky.
A few people continued to mention that I should have an office. I hadn't said more about the radio. Well. Not to the other people in the open area. I had gone to Kyle, Tanya's boss, who is my peer, and asked him to find a solution for the radio. He shook his head and said, "That radio has been an issue since the day I started. The CEO doesn't like it to be too quiet. He wanted the radio."
"Oh man," I said. "So the radio is A Thing."
"It is," Kyle agreed.
May I note for the record that the CEO works in the headquarters office in Buenos Aires and cannot hear our radio - we are in North America - from there.
May I further note that the CEO is deadset against cubicles because he doesn't like people being separated from each other.
I have not seen the CEO's office, but could I get an "Amen!" to the idea that he is probably not in an open area with no walls.
I explained to Kyle what had happened with Tanya and that if I went to my boss, he would happily throw the radio away without consulting anyone. Kyle said he would do some looking around for a long antenna and we commiserated.
On my way out of Kyle's office, I looked at the org chart on his door. Bridget was in the office next to his. Bridget is lower on the org chart than I. I was the only person reporting to a director not in an office.
I sighed, looked longingly at Bridget's office, and returned to my little cube, which was only half the size of the cube I had had in the other division with only 1/4 of the storage space, including no place to to put my coat.
I longed for that office but I was not going to ask my boss about it. I was not going to displace someone else out of her space. I didn't know why someone at a lower reporting level than I would be in an office while I was in a cubicle, but I did not think I should make waves about it.
After I had been there a month, the CEO showed up from headquarters. At 7:50 a.m., after an overnight international flight, he appeared in the office. My boss was not there yet. I'm glad I was. The CEO - let's call him Sergio - walked over to my cubicle, introduced himself, and asked why I was in a cubicle rather than in an office. I told him this was where my boss had put me but I would eventually like walls and a door.
"I think everyone should have a door," I said.
"I'll take care of that," Sergio said.
I shrugged and said, "OK," thinking that he meant that if they ever did the office remodel, they would build me a space.
Then he sipped his coffee and made a face. "Thees coffee, eet is not very good," he noted.
"Let's go to the coffee shop across the street," I suggested. I agreed with him on the office coffee. How quickly I went from being excited that I was finally back in an office where they supplied coffee - the other division did not, which is the first time in my life I have worked someone where they didn't have coffee for employees - even when I was a Peace Corps volunteer, we had coffee - to being an ingrate unhappy that the free coffee - free coffee! - was bad.
We walked and chatted and he paid for my split shot latte' after laughing about it - "What ees these split shot?" -- and drank his cafe' American with two shots of espresso and he was quite charming. But I already had evidence from my job negotiations that he was not a man to be crossed, so I was careful.
Two hours later, I walked back from the ladies to see Sergio standing with Kyle and my boss. He looked at me. "You have an office now."
He turned to Kyle. "Tell Bridget that Goldie is getting that office and she needs to move out."
Sofia, Kyle's boss, who was also visiting from the BA office, smiled and said, "Now, you are one of us."
I looked at Kyle. My jaw dropped. He shook his head very slightly. I clamped my mouth shut. Didn't want to catch flies or any other kind of trouble. I had nothing to gain by protesting to the CEO that I should not have Bridget's office, as much as I thought the process was handled poorly. And if I have to have someone angry with me, it should be Bridget over the CEO.
Except the problem with Bridget being angry with me is that I see her every day. But Bridget can't fire me.
Quelle dilemma.
I walked back to my cube. I saw Kyle go into Bridget's office and close the door. A few minutes later, she walked out. She wouldn't look at me.
Oh great. Now I was going to have everyone hate me because of the radio and because I had gotten Bridget kicked out of her office. Joy joy joy.
I put my head down, put on my headset, and worked. I went to lunch, came back, and worked some more. I passed Bridget in the ladies.
"Bridget," I whispered. "I promise I did not say a word to Sergio about your office. Not a word!"
She said flatly, "OK," and walked away. She had always been friendly to me. Now she wouldn't even look at me.
Sofia came over to my desk. "I talked to Bridget."
My face reddened.
"I didn't ask Sergio to do that," I said.
"I know," she said. "And I talked to Bridget. She is not angry with you. But she was surprised. She needs some time to adjust."
I nodded. "OK," I said. "But I don't like the way this was done."
She shrugged slightly with the Latin shoulders. What is one to do? The CEO orders, we ask how high.
The next day, Bridget came over to my cube. "Do you have a minute?" she asked.
"Sure," I said. I followed her to her office and she closed the door behind her.
I took a deep breath. I was preparing myself for - for I don't know what. Nothing good.
"I just want you to know that I'm OK with this," she said. "I don't like the way it was handled, but I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at Sergio, but not at you."
I exhaled and bent over. I hate it when people are mad at me.
"Oh good!" I said. "I promise you I didn't say anything to Sergio. I mean, when he asked why I was in a cube, I told him this is where Mark put me and I would rather have walls, but I didn't say that I wanted him to kick you out."
She shook her head and smiled. "It's OK. I know."
"Because I like you and I want us to be friends," I confessed. "So I would never have had him kick you out."
She smiled again. "OK."
And then we hugged, because that is sometimes how women roll.
And then I talked to Kyle, who said he had suggested to Mark that they put me in Bridget's office before I ever started but Mark didn't want to do that, which made me cranky because all this could have been dealt with before I was ever involved but it wasn't and now it was just one more strike against me with the hoi polloi.
Next: Someone complains about how I identify the company on the phone and Tanya pitches a hissy fit about the radio and the radio disappears.
A few people continued to mention that I should have an office. I hadn't said more about the radio. Well. Not to the other people in the open area. I had gone to Kyle, Tanya's boss, who is my peer, and asked him to find a solution for the radio. He shook his head and said, "That radio has been an issue since the day I started. The CEO doesn't like it to be too quiet. He wanted the radio."
"Oh man," I said. "So the radio is A Thing."
"It is," Kyle agreed.
May I note for the record that the CEO works in the headquarters office in Buenos Aires and cannot hear our radio - we are in North America - from there.
May I further note that the CEO is deadset against cubicles because he doesn't like people being separated from each other.
I have not seen the CEO's office, but could I get an "Amen!" to the idea that he is probably not in an open area with no walls.
I explained to Kyle what had happened with Tanya and that if I went to my boss, he would happily throw the radio away without consulting anyone. Kyle said he would do some looking around for a long antenna and we commiserated.
On my way out of Kyle's office, I looked at the org chart on his door. Bridget was in the office next to his. Bridget is lower on the org chart than I. I was the only person reporting to a director not in an office.
I sighed, looked longingly at Bridget's office, and returned to my little cube, which was only half the size of the cube I had had in the other division with only 1/4 of the storage space, including no place to to put my coat.
I longed for that office but I was not going to ask my boss about it. I was not going to displace someone else out of her space. I didn't know why someone at a lower reporting level than I would be in an office while I was in a cubicle, but I did not think I should make waves about it.
After I had been there a month, the CEO showed up from headquarters. At 7:50 a.m., after an overnight international flight, he appeared in the office. My boss was not there yet. I'm glad I was. The CEO - let's call him Sergio - walked over to my cubicle, introduced himself, and asked why I was in a cubicle rather than in an office. I told him this was where my boss had put me but I would eventually like walls and a door.
"I think everyone should have a door," I said.
"I'll take care of that," Sergio said.
I shrugged and said, "OK," thinking that he meant that if they ever did the office remodel, they would build me a space.
Then he sipped his coffee and made a face. "Thees coffee, eet is not very good," he noted.
"Let's go to the coffee shop across the street," I suggested. I agreed with him on the office coffee. How quickly I went from being excited that I was finally back in an office where they supplied coffee - the other division did not, which is the first time in my life I have worked someone where they didn't have coffee for employees - even when I was a Peace Corps volunteer, we had coffee - to being an ingrate unhappy that the free coffee - free coffee! - was bad.
We walked and chatted and he paid for my split shot latte' after laughing about it - "What ees these split shot?" -- and drank his cafe' American with two shots of espresso and he was quite charming. But I already had evidence from my job negotiations that he was not a man to be crossed, so I was careful.
Two hours later, I walked back from the ladies to see Sergio standing with Kyle and my boss. He looked at me. "You have an office now."
He turned to Kyle. "Tell Bridget that Goldie is getting that office and she needs to move out."
Sofia, Kyle's boss, who was also visiting from the BA office, smiled and said, "Now, you are one of us."
I looked at Kyle. My jaw dropped. He shook his head very slightly. I clamped my mouth shut. Didn't want to catch flies or any other kind of trouble. I had nothing to gain by protesting to the CEO that I should not have Bridget's office, as much as I thought the process was handled poorly. And if I have to have someone angry with me, it should be Bridget over the CEO.
Except the problem with Bridget being angry with me is that I see her every day. But Bridget can't fire me.
Quelle dilemma.
I walked back to my cube. I saw Kyle go into Bridget's office and close the door. A few minutes later, she walked out. She wouldn't look at me.
Oh great. Now I was going to have everyone hate me because of the radio and because I had gotten Bridget kicked out of her office. Joy joy joy.
I put my head down, put on my headset, and worked. I went to lunch, came back, and worked some more. I passed Bridget in the ladies.
"Bridget," I whispered. "I promise I did not say a word to Sergio about your office. Not a word!"
She said flatly, "OK," and walked away. She had always been friendly to me. Now she wouldn't even look at me.
Sofia came over to my desk. "I talked to Bridget."
My face reddened.
"I didn't ask Sergio to do that," I said.
"I know," she said. "And I talked to Bridget. She is not angry with you. But she was surprised. She needs some time to adjust."
I nodded. "OK," I said. "But I don't like the way this was done."
She shrugged slightly with the Latin shoulders. What is one to do? The CEO orders, we ask how high.
The next day, Bridget came over to my cube. "Do you have a minute?" she asked.
"Sure," I said. I followed her to her office and she closed the door behind her.
I took a deep breath. I was preparing myself for - for I don't know what. Nothing good.
"I just want you to know that I'm OK with this," she said. "I don't like the way it was handled, but I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at Sergio, but not at you."
I exhaled and bent over. I hate it when people are mad at me.
"Oh good!" I said. "I promise you I didn't say anything to Sergio. I mean, when he asked why I was in a cube, I told him this is where Mark put me and I would rather have walls, but I didn't say that I wanted him to kick you out."
She shook her head and smiled. "It's OK. I know."
"Because I like you and I want us to be friends," I confessed. "So I would never have had him kick you out."
She smiled again. "OK."
And then we hugged, because that is sometimes how women roll.
And then I talked to Kyle, who said he had suggested to Mark that they put me in Bridget's office before I ever started but Mark didn't want to do that, which made me cranky because all this could have been dealt with before I was ever involved but it wasn't and now it was just one more strike against me with the hoi polloi.
Next: Someone complains about how I identify the company on the phone and Tanya pitches a hissy fit about the radio and the radio disappears.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
In which I have an altercation with a co-worker about the office radio
I moved to a new job within my company. New job, same company, different division. There has been drama since before Day 1, but I don't want to get into any of that while I am still working there. If, however, I get a new new job at a completely new company, I will tell all. Let's just say that I keep learning questions I should ask before I accept a job, like, "Is this group financially stable or are you way behind in revenues and will there be mass panic and thoughts of layoffs in the near future?" and "Will you be changing the job description dramatically once I start and be wanting me to make cold calls?" and "This promised trip to the company headquarters in Buenos Aires in January - will this actually happen?"
Unfortunately, like the generals, I keep fighting the last war, so who knows what new drama I might encounter at a new new job?
On my first day of work, my boss showed me to my space: a desk in the middle of the office. A desk as part of a pod of desks. No walls. OK, a short wall between me and the other three desks that were clustered together, but no other walls.
I thought it was bad being in a cubicle. I didn't know it could get worse - that I would be demoted from an office (pretty much every job I've had) to a cubicle to - a desk.
My boss said, "We can build you a cubicle if you want, but you might like this."
I looked around me at all the space. At the way the desk was completely open to everything. Then I looked at him and wanted to say, "You have a window office in the corner. Do you think you would prefer to have this space?" Instead, I said just, "I expect I will prefer a cubicle so I can have some kind of walls."
"Well, we can't get maintenance to do anything for a few weeks," he said.
Note that I had accepted the job a month before I started. The long notice period was because of Drama that I will not divulge now, but there was Drama and there were Red Flags and it was too late to do anything about them because my former boss already knew I wanted to go and it's hard to stay working for someone who knows you want to not be working for him.
I was going to have to suck it up.
I sat down at my new desk. There was no nameplate. There was no computer. My phone had not been connected. I'm not sure what I was supposed to do without any tools to do the job.
They had known for a month.
But then - then I realized at least there was a distraction.
There was a radio playing not ten feet away from me. I was in the desk closest to the radio.
Some people may thrive in a noisy, crowded atmosphere.
I am not one of those people. Indeed, I do not know any one of those people. I will bet if you ask everyone you know, almost all of them would prefer an office to a cubicle and definitely to an open desk in a cluster.
Not only was I in an exposed area, I was in an exposed area next to the radio.
The women behind me in the old job used to chat all day - which actually didn't bug me - but also would eat noisy things, like carrot sticks and dry Cap'n Crunch, all day? Crunch, crunch, crunch, all day long.
Although to their credit, when I asked them to tone it down, they did, but only after apologizing for disturbing me.
See, the thing is, professional people, adults, who work in shared spaces get that we all have to make little sacrifices to make up for the cheapness of our employers, who refuse to provide people with the proper space and privacy to do a good job.
I do not want to listen to the radio at work. I want to work. I need to be able to concentrate. I need to be able to put together contracts and analyze pricing and speak to customers in Spanish and think about strategy and do things that require concentration. I can't do these things with a radio playing.
But it was my first day at work. I was not going to say a word.
Instead, after lunch, when my computer finally arrived and had been set up, I took it into the conference room so I could read all the training materials in peace.
After an hour, my boss, Mark, came in the conference room. "What are you doing in here?" he asked.
"The radio is distracting," I said. "I came in here for the quiet."
"Why don't you just turn the radio off?" he asked.
I sighed. "I am not going to be the person who comes into a place on her first day of work and tries to change everything. It would make everyone hate me."
Mark rolled his eyes, walked out of the conference room, and turned off the radio. Then he stuck his head back in the room and told me that the radio was off.
I took my computer back out to my desk and started working again.
One of my new co-workers, Jan, came over to me. "You don't like Christmas music?" she asked.
"What?" I answered.
"The radio. Mark said you didn't like the music."
"He did what?"
"When Mark turned off the radio, he said it was because you didn't like it."
Oh great. I shook my head. "It's not that I don't like Christmas music. It's that I have a hard time concentrating if there is music playing."
"Well," she said carefully. "We all like the music." (There are seven other women in the open work space, although most of them were gone for the holidays.) "It keeps us from going insane."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't know what to tell you. I will try to work with it and we can see what happens once they build me a cubicle. Maybe the walls will baffle some of the sound and it won't be an issue."
She smiled. "We really like the radio."
I brought in a headset and listened to the sound of rain falling and the sound of waves crashing and the sound of a jet engine all day long. It still didn't drown out the radio. So then I put in earplugs underneath the headphones. Still didn't drown it out, but made it easier for me to tune it out. Still, I could hear Elton John and Billy Joel and Meatloaf and the Beatles all day long and if I didn't hate their greatest hits before the new job, I sure hated them now.
They built me a cubicle that was half the size of the cubicle I'd had in the old job. I looked longingly at the office occupied by a woman who was below me on the org chart. But I said nothing to Mark other than, "I will say this only once. I want a door. I want a door and walls. I cannot concentrate with all that noise out there."
He dismissed me. "We were supposed to do an office renovation this year, but now there is no money for it."
I moved into the cubicle. It was still noisy.
Finally, I went back to Jan. "I am really sorry," I said, "but I can't stand that radio. Is there any way you could have it closer to your desk?"
I had already checked into jango.com and pandora.com. Both were blocked. I had asked IT to make an exception, but they said the request had to come from Mark. I was not going to get my boss involved in this. I had carefully asked a few of my other new co-workers what they thought about the radio. Two of them took out their earbuds and said, "What?"
Jan said she would try. "The problem is that it's hard to get good reception in here," she explained.
"I have tried," I said. "I wear my headset and earplugs and I listen to white noise, but the headset bothers my ears after a few hours."
She moved the radio. She couldn't get a signal.
"Our work is so boring that we really need the music," she said. "I can't believe they don't have you in an office."
I just shrugged and smiled slightly. I was not going to get into the office issue with anyone.
OK. I lie. I did say, "Yes, it would be nice to have an office."
So I sucked it up. And I started looking for a new job.
But one day, after I had tried to have a conversation with a customer in Mexico over the phone and had to press one hand against my free ear so I could concentrate on what he was saying - it's hard to understand a foreign language over the phone because you don't see the person's face and body language, I went over to the radio and turned it off.
Tanya popped up from her desk.
Tanya had not been there when Mark turned off the radio. She is about 20. This is her first job.
She marched over to the radio, turned it back on, turned to me, and said, "You don't get to come in here and do whatever you want."
"Excuse me?" I said.
"This is how we do things here. We listen to the radio. You don't just get to come in and change things."
I sighed. "Look. It is really hard for me to concentrate with the radio on. I need to be able to work."
She pushed her hand out in the Hand of Stop Talking move. "Don't be talking to me like that!"
"Like what?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.
"All mad and moving your hands!"
I hadn't realized I was moving my hands and I didn't think I had raised my voice, but I took a deep breath and said, "Look. I'm sorry. But we need to be able to work something out. I cannot work with the radio playing."
She folded her arms, shook her head, and said, "You need to talk to your manager about this."
This left me dumbfounded. I have never in my entire life gone to my boss about an interpersonal problem. Never. Speechless, I walked slowly back to my desk.
I sat there, fuming. Then thought, No! I need to deal with this!
I returned to the radio, where Tanya still stood.
"Look," I said. "We are both adults. We should be able to resolve this ourselves without going to out bosses." What I did not mention to her, although I was sorely tempted to, was that if I went to my boss, he would take the radio and throw it through the window.
She just shook her head. "You need to talk to your manager."
I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and walked away, shaking my head.
Next: I talk to Tanya's boss about the radio, someone complains to Kyle about how I talk on the phone, and the CEO kicks Bridget out of her office
Unfortunately, like the generals, I keep fighting the last war, so who knows what new drama I might encounter at a new new job?
On my first day of work, my boss showed me to my space: a desk in the middle of the office. A desk as part of a pod of desks. No walls. OK, a short wall between me and the other three desks that were clustered together, but no other walls.
I thought it was bad being in a cubicle. I didn't know it could get worse - that I would be demoted from an office (pretty much every job I've had) to a cubicle to - a desk.
My boss said, "We can build you a cubicle if you want, but you might like this."
I looked around me at all the space. At the way the desk was completely open to everything. Then I looked at him and wanted to say, "You have a window office in the corner. Do you think you would prefer to have this space?" Instead, I said just, "I expect I will prefer a cubicle so I can have some kind of walls."
"Well, we can't get maintenance to do anything for a few weeks," he said.
Note that I had accepted the job a month before I started. The long notice period was because of Drama that I will not divulge now, but there was Drama and there were Red Flags and it was too late to do anything about them because my former boss already knew I wanted to go and it's hard to stay working for someone who knows you want to not be working for him.
I was going to have to suck it up.
I sat down at my new desk. There was no nameplate. There was no computer. My phone had not been connected. I'm not sure what I was supposed to do without any tools to do the job.
They had known for a month.
But then - then I realized at least there was a distraction.
There was a radio playing not ten feet away from me. I was in the desk closest to the radio.
Some people may thrive in a noisy, crowded atmosphere.
I am not one of those people. Indeed, I do not know any one of those people. I will bet if you ask everyone you know, almost all of them would prefer an office to a cubicle and definitely to an open desk in a cluster.
Not only was I in an exposed area, I was in an exposed area next to the radio.
The women behind me in the old job used to chat all day - which actually didn't bug me - but also would eat noisy things, like carrot sticks and dry Cap'n Crunch, all day? Crunch, crunch, crunch, all day long.
Although to their credit, when I asked them to tone it down, they did, but only after apologizing for disturbing me.
See, the thing is, professional people, adults, who work in shared spaces get that we all have to make little sacrifices to make up for the cheapness of our employers, who refuse to provide people with the proper space and privacy to do a good job.
I do not want to listen to the radio at work. I want to work. I need to be able to concentrate. I need to be able to put together contracts and analyze pricing and speak to customers in Spanish and think about strategy and do things that require concentration. I can't do these things with a radio playing.
But it was my first day at work. I was not going to say a word.
Instead, after lunch, when my computer finally arrived and had been set up, I took it into the conference room so I could read all the training materials in peace.
After an hour, my boss, Mark, came in the conference room. "What are you doing in here?" he asked.
"The radio is distracting," I said. "I came in here for the quiet."
"Why don't you just turn the radio off?" he asked.
I sighed. "I am not going to be the person who comes into a place on her first day of work and tries to change everything. It would make everyone hate me."
Mark rolled his eyes, walked out of the conference room, and turned off the radio. Then he stuck his head back in the room and told me that the radio was off.
I took my computer back out to my desk and started working again.
One of my new co-workers, Jan, came over to me. "You don't like Christmas music?" she asked.
"What?" I answered.
"The radio. Mark said you didn't like the music."
"He did what?"
"When Mark turned off the radio, he said it was because you didn't like it."
Oh great. I shook my head. "It's not that I don't like Christmas music. It's that I have a hard time concentrating if there is music playing."
"Well," she said carefully. "We all like the music." (There are seven other women in the open work space, although most of them were gone for the holidays.) "It keeps us from going insane."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't know what to tell you. I will try to work with it and we can see what happens once they build me a cubicle. Maybe the walls will baffle some of the sound and it won't be an issue."
She smiled. "We really like the radio."
I brought in a headset and listened to the sound of rain falling and the sound of waves crashing and the sound of a jet engine all day long. It still didn't drown out the radio. So then I put in earplugs underneath the headphones. Still didn't drown it out, but made it easier for me to tune it out. Still, I could hear Elton John and Billy Joel and Meatloaf and the Beatles all day long and if I didn't hate their greatest hits before the new job, I sure hated them now.
They built me a cubicle that was half the size of the cubicle I'd had in the old job. I looked longingly at the office occupied by a woman who was below me on the org chart. But I said nothing to Mark other than, "I will say this only once. I want a door. I want a door and walls. I cannot concentrate with all that noise out there."
He dismissed me. "We were supposed to do an office renovation this year, but now there is no money for it."
I moved into the cubicle. It was still noisy.
Finally, I went back to Jan. "I am really sorry," I said, "but I can't stand that radio. Is there any way you could have it closer to your desk?"
I had already checked into jango.com and pandora.com. Both were blocked. I had asked IT to make an exception, but they said the request had to come from Mark. I was not going to get my boss involved in this. I had carefully asked a few of my other new co-workers what they thought about the radio. Two of them took out their earbuds and said, "What?"
Jan said she would try. "The problem is that it's hard to get good reception in here," she explained.
"I have tried," I said. "I wear my headset and earplugs and I listen to white noise, but the headset bothers my ears after a few hours."
She moved the radio. She couldn't get a signal.
"Our work is so boring that we really need the music," she said. "I can't believe they don't have you in an office."
I just shrugged and smiled slightly. I was not going to get into the office issue with anyone.
OK. I lie. I did say, "Yes, it would be nice to have an office."
So I sucked it up. And I started looking for a new job.
But one day, after I had tried to have a conversation with a customer in Mexico over the phone and had to press one hand against my free ear so I could concentrate on what he was saying - it's hard to understand a foreign language over the phone because you don't see the person's face and body language, I went over to the radio and turned it off.
Tanya popped up from her desk.
Tanya had not been there when Mark turned off the radio. She is about 20. This is her first job.
She marched over to the radio, turned it back on, turned to me, and said, "You don't get to come in here and do whatever you want."
"Excuse me?" I said.
"This is how we do things here. We listen to the radio. You don't just get to come in and change things."
I sighed. "Look. It is really hard for me to concentrate with the radio on. I need to be able to work."
She pushed her hand out in the Hand of Stop Talking move. "Don't be talking to me like that!"
"Like what?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.
"All mad and moving your hands!"
I hadn't realized I was moving my hands and I didn't think I had raised my voice, but I took a deep breath and said, "Look. I'm sorry. But we need to be able to work something out. I cannot work with the radio playing."
She folded her arms, shook her head, and said, "You need to talk to your manager about this."
This left me dumbfounded. I have never in my entire life gone to my boss about an interpersonal problem. Never. Speechless, I walked slowly back to my desk.
I sat there, fuming. Then thought, No! I need to deal with this!
I returned to the radio, where Tanya still stood.
"Look," I said. "We are both adults. We should be able to resolve this ourselves without going to out bosses." What I did not mention to her, although I was sorely tempted to, was that if I went to my boss, he would take the radio and throw it through the window.
She just shook her head. "You need to talk to your manager."
I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and walked away, shaking my head.
Next: I talk to Tanya's boss about the radio, someone complains to Kyle about how I talk on the phone, and the CEO kicks Bridget out of her office
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