In which we have a teambuilding exercise only nobody trusts the feedback not to get back to the CEO so we all lie by omission

Dear Managers of [my company]

I look forward to facilitating your team development session. 

We are beginning the meetings with a focus on team and relationship, because everything

depends on the capacity of leaders to be aware of their strengths and blind spots and to recognize, engage and support the strengths of colleagues as well as direct reports.

While some of you have been with the team for quite some time, others are new to the scene!

Regardless of your experience with this team, I would appreciate your response to the following questions:

1)  What is working well?   

                Respect?  Communication? Trust?  Energy?  Innovation?

2) What opportunities do we have to strengthen our working relationships with one another to advance the mission of the business?   What are the barriers?

3)  What are you willing to contribute to the success of our time together?

4) What is one thing that you think I should know about you, your team, [the CEO], etc?

5) What excites you about your work?

Anything else?

Please feel free to respond to this e-mail and include your responses  in the body of the message.

Thank you in advance for your thoughtful consideration.  Be assured that your responses will be kept in confidence. Should there be themes that emerge (ex:  communication is challenging …)  I will offer the themes for our consideration during our time together.

I will see you soon!

Best Regards,

Judi Dench

That's the email that came to me and my co-workers the week before the management meeting.

My boss came into my office and confirmed what I had thought: that over my dead body would I give honest feedback to the facilitator.

"It would probably not behoove you," he said, "to be honest."

I spoke to my colleagues Jennifer Anniston, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, and Regina King. "Are you going to give honest feedback to Judi?" I asked.

They laughed. Hahahahahahahahahaha!

No.

No, they had no intention of telling the truth, ie, that the CEO is a little bit jerky and we are all scared of him and he says he wants honest feedback but then when you give it to him, he gets angry.

"If we could give honest feedback," Brad said, "we would not need this teambuilding meeting."

He speaks the truth.

In which Sergio the CEO of my company announces a new open-plan office where nobody but him gets an office

You guys, I hope by the time you read this, I will be in a new job. I have been looking. Lord have mercy, I have been looking. But looking for a job is very time consuming and exhausting and then the interviewing is a pain in the neck and you have to either take time off or make up appointments, which I don't really mind doing because there are many times when I am on the phone late in the day with Asia and you know, the hours should balance out.

There are three things I like about my job right now:

1. I can take the bus to work, which means that Primo and I can get by on one car.
2. I can go to the gym at lunch.
3. I have a window office with a really nice view.

Today, the CEO, Sergio, who is here from BA for the week while we prepare for a board meeting, announced that the office is going to be renovated.

We are going to an open plan, he said.

I know open plan makes people nervous, but it will be OK.

All the offices will be converted to meeting rooms.

Those of us in offices will move to modules within the open plan. My boss, who is a director, will lose his office.

His office will not be converted to a meeting room. His office will become Sergio's office for Sergio to use the four times a year he is in the U.S.

The rest of us -- all of us -- will be in an open area. This area will Facilitate Communication and Improve Processes and Make Us Better People.

I suggested that it might be noisy.

Oh, no. There will be white noise.

There will be TVs in the conference and break rooms. You know - because being able to watch TV while I am at work is so important.

There will be expensive renovations.

There might not be raises.

The money has to come from somewhere.

In which I find out my readers are scary smart

You guys, I have the nicest, smartest readers in the world. A few of you have already warned me when you have come across identifying details about Primo and where we live. One of you today - hello Erik from Ask a Manager! - figured out exactly who Primo is.

I am not as sneaky as I thought I was and you guys are smart.

Although I don't think what I write about Primo's campaign could be damaging - those who are in the know know that he is not going to win, even if the incumbent were to be caught in bed with a live boy or a dead girl, I wouldn't want to embarrass him or anyone on his campaign team.

Still, I am torn. Can you imagine what it would do for my readership for this blog to be exposed? What if I could get a book deal out of it? Primo says I should re-name the blog "The Candidate's Wife." If someone wanted to pay me big bucks to write about a campaign from the spouse's POV - the spouse who does not want to be in the political world and the spouse who does not agree with the candidate on all the issues, then I would happily take the money and run.

I would also happily take the money to write a book about Sly and Doris. Indeed, I already have, although I had to have a fictional somewhat happy ending because who wants to read a book about the reality of mean inlaws? We want redemption or the possibility of redemption in what we read. I do, anyhow.

But there is no scandal in Primo's campaign, alas. No sex. No bribery. No prostitutes. No texted photos of naughty bits. No lavish parties. No gifts from donors. (There have to be donors.) I would like some lavish gifts. I want a new purse. This one. (It's even made in the US!)

Where is that guy who was so good to the governor of Virginia? Tell him to call me. We could use a new car, too. We have two cars, but one of them is a '65 Corvair that I have no interest in driving and that can't leave the garage when it is raining.

No pregnant volunteers and no lying about who the daddy is. I don't have cancer. Neither of us get $400 haircuts. We both go to Carol and she charges $21. We tip $5 and give a bigger Christmas tip. Plus she is our friend.

Dang. I realize that we are doing this all wrong. If I want a book deal, I have to write about something more interesting than the fact that Primo copy-edits what his social media coordinator posts on facebook.

I decided it is not prudent to post about the campaign before the election. After the election, nobody will care. I will post then. I might have some innocuous posts before November. If I mess up and leave in the name of the district or a coffeeshop that is found only in this city, please let me know! I appreciate you all looking out for me.

xoxoxo,

GD

In which Ted, Primo's half brother, demands that Primo drop everything to do Ted a favor

Last night, Primo came home from a four day business trip. He leaves again today for a week. Today is Saturday. Yes, I posted this on a Thursday, but I write these things as they happen.

So he came home after being gone for four days. I don't know what business travel is like for you guys, but I think for most of us now it means spending all day at the customer site or the conference and then spending several hours in the evening answering email because hey the world doesn't stop just because you are doing something else during the work day and if we don't take care of the customer, someone else will.

So Primo spends all day with the customer and then spends hours answering email from co-workers and other customers and trying to keep everyone happy and every now and then sending me a facebook message that he wants to quit his job and become a revolutionary, to which I say, Don't we all?

So he was gone for four days. Gets home at 8 p.m. Friday. His flight today leaves at noon. No, he is still not ready even though he needs to leave for the airport ten minutes ago.

I did not realize that part of marriage would be Sucking Up Your Partner's Stress. But it is. I guess.

Is there any stress worse (outside of watching someone you love suffer from an illness) than stress you watch that the other person imposes on himself? As in, Primo has to catch a plane. He has to pack and take a shower and doesn't have a lot of time.

So he does the dishes. And scoops the kitty litter.

Neither of those tasks are on the critical path. Both are tasks that can easily be delegated. Both are tasks I can and I will do.

But rather than focus on packing and showering, he does the dishes.

Because I did not do them, he tells me.

I said that I would have done them eventually and it is not necessary for the dishes to be done by 10:00 a.m. and could he just chill and do what he needs to do?

I cannot shower for him. I cannot pack for him. (I don't fold things right. Oh, how sad I am that he would rather I not fold his shirts.)

I can, however, do dishes and scoop the cat box.

Primo is easily distracted. Squirrel!

So. Back to Ted the Jerk.

He came downstairs last night after checking his email and said that his half brother Ted, the one who told me I was f-ing stupid for not thinking that Ted Kennedy was the most amazing wonderful person evah after I pointed out that Kennedy left a woman to drown in his car after he drove the car off a bridge and used his political influence to escape the consequences that would have befallen a normal person.

Ted and I do not get along.

He is his father's son.

How did Primo turn out so well, one asks?

I don't know but I'm glad he did. Still, I wish that he were an orphan. Our lives would be a lot easier.

Ted had emailed Primo, Sly, and Doris, asking them to review the 90-minute rough cut of his latest documentary.

Sly and Doris wrote back to Ted and told him they had watched it and would send him some notes this weekend.

Ted wrote back and said that this weekend would be too late.

Primo wrote and said that he would not have a chance to watch the movie and give feedback for a few weeks, as he was very busy.

Ted replied that if Primo wants to be in [Primo's business], he can do what you want. If he wants to be in politics, he has to adjust his schedule.

I should not be surprised that Ted is being a jerk. It's who he is.

Update:
Primo has more information. Turns out that the person who is funding the production of Ted's film is considering pulling the money. Ted wanted to give her some positive feedback about the film. So his solution was to have his father, stepmother, and half brother review it.

I won't even bother to comment on this.

In which Sly tells Doris, who tells Primo, that he is "hurt" by the distance between us

My mom said that my dad is very hurt by your distance from them. I told her (while he was out) that you can't stand his criticism of her and his periodic meanness. No big blow-ups happened this week, but he came close once.

your dad is hurt?

I don't believe it

She says so.

yeah right

he can't stand me

he just doesn't like that I have rejected him

he wants to be the one to reject me

In which Sly reiterates his dislike of me

Primo: My dad told me I have very bad taste in women.

Me: What? When? Last week?

Primo: Yes.

Me: What prompted that?

Primo: I commented that I thought a particular tennis player is really good looking and he said that I have particularly bad taste in women.

Me: But he is saddened by the rift between us.

Primo: No! Not just saddened. He's "deeply hurt."

In which I question my political bona fides

Am I a bad Political Wife because I don't want to watch Primo march in a Fourth of July parade? I can't think of anything I want to do less next Friday than get out of bed early, take a shower, dry my hair, dress for The Public (even though The Public couldn't care less about me), and then stand for an hour in what should be really hot weather but will probably be cold weather while people walk past me.

In which Primo is dreading his visit to Sly and Doris (and who wouldn't dread a visit to Sly and Doris?)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Oh my god you guys will LOVE THIS BLOG for real. Blog to vent about this woman's in-laws and +

some other weird life stuff, but the in-laws bits are the best far and away. They hate her and she also seems like a prat, but she's funny as hell and her in-laws be CRAAAZY

http://diaryofagolddigger.blogspot.com/search/label/outlaws

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.