My mantra this week: from The Yoga Journal - a sign above the change jar in a coffee shop reads: “Fear change? Leave it here!”.
Oversleeping. Every day and then some. Wanting to call in sick, but no good reason to. Can you call in sick to claim laziness? I always thought that’s a disease!
Too much work. No. An inhumane amount of work. The work for four done by one. Doesn’t seem fair, does it?! No kudos. Just more work. And complaints that perfect-ness was not achieved. No real need for kudos. Just need for less work. Life is never fair when it comes to what we think we deserve, is it?!
Sick of office dramas. Why do adults behave like 4 year olds whose toys have been misplaced? Do we really have time in our adult lives to worry about whose bean count is higher?! Really??
Long lost friends coming back into the picture. Sometimes happily. Sometimes just to reaffirm the disappointment. Life’s cruel, I tell ya. Life’s cruel in telling you you were right when you made the toughest choice.
News about Patrick: first good, more progress; then not so good: the child discovers he can move, and therefore fall, too, so he’s a walking hazard! Tears. Pain. Worry. How will he do in daycare? More fear … And worry … How did nay of us made it to adulthood, I wonder?!
Days too hot and days too long when you can’t exercise because of no stamina whatsoever. I need a new life! Some days more than others!
Rediscovery of “the mat”. So refreshing. Returning back to my oasis and finding all my muscles and my ham strings again! Oh, how they scream!!!
A birth. A new life. And then sickness. Sadness and more. Then, a death of an acquaintance’s family member. More work and sadness. Discovering how insensitive management can be in the face of tragedy. Too bad that they don’t factor in human emotions in the “bottom line” which we’re all (allegedly) striving for. Life goes on. It stops somewhere, and it starts in another spot … always moving. Not asking us for approval …
Vacation plans! How sweet!
Home cooked meals! Discovery of Romano cheese – salty and creamy all at the same time! Garlic! Yum!
Lunch with remote friends, and knowing that one cannot be forgotten. Such a relief to know that there are people who can still make a difference. And more importantly, that there are people who still bother enough to recognize that. The human factor has not died in the world, after all! It might be meager, but not extinct.
Above and beyond all … love. Mutual, deep, passionate and caring, like I have never, ever dreamed of. I have always thought I wanted to live a romance that movies and books have not written about yet … And now, it feels like I am there. Happiness. Joy. And distance. But going to bed with a prayer that it’ll be there tomorrow. And a thank you that it is here today.
Finished books. About passion, death and life. New books. On humor and lighter hearts. A good mix of the ever consistently delivering “written word”.
Being tired, and being sleepy 24/7. Hungry and fed. Loved and cold. And hot outside. Missing people I love, and sharing the proximity and lives of those who are near. All – such a gift! Happy and frustrated. Generous and judgy.
In other words: just a regular week…
I am as puzzled when people tell me a movie was “cute” as when a realtor tells me a house is “darling”. These are very vague terms, to me, to refer to things that probably don’t suck that bad, but are not quite excellent.
But I found myself saying that the movie “The Proposal” is quite “cute”. And let me define it, from my point of view, at least!
Sometimes, at the end of a busy week, during which I have had everything from pleasant meets with friends, to boss screaming at me for trifles, from dealing with stomach bugs to forgetting to put out a weekly newsletter (oops! - that’s a first), from being totally and utterly in love to coming down to earth and realizing that a big project I am putting together will only have three volunteers, me included, maybe …- so at the end of such a week all I wanted was bag of movie theater popcorn (isn’t that the best comfort food??) and a chick flick!
And I chose The Proposal, because from all the reviews, it seemed to fit the bill! I wanted something without guns, and violence. Some sob story of someone falling in love and living happily ever after: you know – the kind of stuff that’s hard to believe in anymore. And not much brain engagement, either.
And for once, the movie delivered: it was not stupid, and it was not fantastical, and it was not lame, and it didn’t have crazy, surreal and unreal dialogues, nor retarded, fall-on-your-ass-and-expect-me-to-laugh, or cat-flushes-the-dog-down-the-toilet kind of jokes … It was just … a normal chick flick!
Relaxing, funny, mildly intellectually written. Sure, the eagle does snatch the dog, and then the cell phone, and the girl who could not swim is thrown in the water and doesn’t die, but that’s just to tell you, you’re still watching fiction! Other than that, it was a very, well, “cute” movie.
Sure, it could not help but have my biggest pet peeve about it, too, overcritical as I am – but it is one pet peeve I have about all American movies and TV shows: I do not (cannot) understand why, no matter how rich the characters are in a movie (or show), they always have to drive a beat-up, clunky, some sort of washed out blue, gray or orange shade truck from the 60’s or older!
WHY does every producer/ director/ movie creator feel the need to add such fake “local color” to the movie, beats the bejesus out of me! It’s so made-up and so contrived anymore! In this particular flick, the main family is referred to as “The Kennedys of Alaska”, and yet the mother drives one such truck, bad paint and rust and all. Why?!
But this is just my own “battle” with The American Movie Industry. Not just with this one clip!
So, all in all, I recommend that you go and see The Proposal, if you want to escape.
And trust me on this one: it’s cute, and it will deliver as promised.
“Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds the sun is shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.”
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I know I have said before that I am fed up with people’s attitudes at work towards the company, the layoffs and the economy in general. I still am, so I won’t repeat that. I still believe you should not bite the hand that feeds you, and that if you bother to show up, you need to make an effort to justify your paycheck.
But I will have to say that it’s very easy lately to take our frustrations, lack of hope, on the company, its leadership and to be altogether absolutely impossible to work with, across the board, because of all the punches in the gut we’ve received.
It takes me all I have got, and then some to go through the day with a smile anymore. It takes me my whole will (and trust me, I have will!), my whole strength and I need to borrow some extra patience from some, to go through 4 hours of the day, till lunch, but it takes more than those to make it to 5 PM! Amazing what you’ll do for food, ya know!
The notion of career, and work ethics is out the window, it seems! The only notion there is, is survival! What can we do, folks seem to be wondering, to put in the minimum effort not to get fired?! The company wants us to participate more, to communicate more, but that’s not going to happen, because people refuse to look at this “durra mater” of a job as their home, and family, as something they actually care in the least about. Something that bears their signature, their pride anymore. And can you really blame them?!
We’ve had waves and waves of layoffs and retirements, forced, involuntary and voluntary as well. We have shrunk our overall staff by at least 150 people in the past year and a half. That’s a lot for a company that used to be 600+ folks. And we’re still not done.
A memo came out today to let us know we are to take furlough days, 5 in all, before June. So, instead of 26 weeks, as we should, we will get paid for 25 of those weeks, basically. Along with that, any kind of “cost of living” raises are frozen. Unless you change jobs or you take on more responsibility, you can’t get a raise. But that’s of course, felt as unfair, too: with as many folks gone, we all feel like we have taken on more than we can handle, but …
As always, we’re not sure what’s going to happen next, after June. Layoffs, more retirements (is anyone eligible anymore?!), more budget cuts, more furlough days, 4 day weeks?! Who knows?! Again, as I have said before: it’s not us, it’s everyone. We still have a job, and benefits. We still have a purpose in the morning, and if we cut a commodity, maybe two, we might even make it.
But it’s still hard, for some folks. Those who live paycheck to paycheck and the notion of savings or extra cash is foreign! There are those! Those whose spouse has been laid off or whose job has also been cut , those who have several children in schools and are single parents with no help. How they find solutions and hope in these times, beats the heck outta me!
My heart breaks every morning when I see another “For Sale” sign in my neighborhood. I pray that’s a person who got a better job somewhere else, and that’s not someone who is about to lose their home. It’s hard to smile anymore, and hard not to be frustrated, on the hallways of the building I have buried my last 8 years in! It’s hard to trust. It’s hard to care. It’s hard to go on. It’s hard not to ask: “Hhmm… is their profit margin shrinking, as my paycheck is?!”.
I tell myself, though, everyday, that I have to be grateful for what I have. And if they do fire me (whether you call it “layoff” or “voluntary layoff”, or “restructuring”, we, on this end of the bargain, feel it like a firing job: just like the gun firing: straight through your heart!), so, if they do fire me, still, it’s not something I can control – and that is my only consolation now.
My job performance is the only thing I can control and I will, and I am, with all I have got. If they let me go for crappy performance, then, I won’t be settled within me forever; but if they let me go for a budget expense, it’s gonna hurt, and be hell for a while, heck, without health insurance I might not even make it, but it won’t be “their fault”. I refuse to believe that! I am sure they’re not looking for absolution, but I just felt I needed to get it out of me, to stay sane! It’ll be just another loss I was thrown my way.
Unfortunately, as mom says, “I wasn’t capable to be my own boss, have my own business and call the shots, so I am expendable!”. The job will then become just … collateral damage. Sad – but so true. For so many!
Some people are lucky enough to grow up with a full set of parents. Some of us happen to be double blessed, and find another set of adoptive parents along the way of life. Like I found a second “dad”. Almost. Let me explain.
My former boss and I met over eight years ago when he gave me my first job at The Paper, as a sales assistant. Before the interview and until I got my job, he would call me at odd times, and the interviews were a bit out of the ordinary. He was an original, for sure, even before knowing me that well. There was a familiarity there that I didn’t quite grasp, but it became evident over time. We both have felt like “family” from the beginning, in a way. We both shared an honesty and openness that I have yet to find in most people.
After the first six months on my first job, he learned pretty fast that I learn faster than most, and I get bored easily. So, just like my real dad who threw me and my sister in a slew of extra-school activities to keep us busy and out of trouble, my boss had a mission to find me “stuff to do” so I won’t get bored, or God forbid leave! He constantly gave me one or two or several channels for my learning and my curiosity to go to. I am sure he was doing most of this for the benefit of the company as well, as I was (and still am) very cheap labor, and I would never say “no” to any task!
But pushed me he did. He drove me into marketing, he sent me to be a “leveraging conflict” trainer, he dragged me kicking and screaming into the IT world, and into the Project Management one, and he dropped me like a bag of potatoes into the United Way Campaign, to be not just a team member, but the chair. One thing he never convinced me to do was sales. Just like dad never sold me on the “medical school” idea, either.
Every time he did this, I was just like a kid: “No! No way I’ll do this!”. And he was just like my dad: “No way. You’ll do it. Now! Faster! Stop whining and get it DONE!”. Just like I do with my real dad, I hated him for pushing me, I ground the teeth and made faces behind his back, I lost sleep over how I am going to disappoint him, and I did it anyway to the best of my abilities. In the end, I thanked him when I realized he saw in me what I could not, and he made me a success by pushing me and ignoring my fight-backs.
The older I get, the more I don’t mind hearing the “I told you so”’s, either … And I am so grateful he’s dragged me through this winding career that I’ve had for eight years now.
Just like I would rather be caught killing puppies than upset or disappoint my dad, I did what my boss wanted me to because I would have been mortified if I ever disappointed him! I went to bed happy, and I thought I looked better in the mirror every time I’d do something and I’d get a “You’re the best!” from him!
Just like I seldom tell my dad that he’s one of my best friends, and I love him, I never told my boss these. But somehow I know he knows it. I feel like he’s helped me grow old and up in these 8 years. You’ve learned above what I have been through, professionally, thanks to him: from the sales assistant of a 3 sales people team in the Online Department to Jack-of-all-trades-known-to-all-in-the-company in IT, it’s been a long, painful, and also rewarding journey.
But our closeness and his caring and paternal interest in me has not stopped at the professional level, and now, that he’s retired, I am going to miss him more because he’s been my personal “double dad”, too: he’s helped me grow up and old, and gray through my separation and divorce, through home selling and home buying, through deaths, and births of my loved ones, through car sales, and car rentals, through the good years of dating and the hell years of dating; he’s listened to more of my blabbing about the un-necessary-ness of men, and about my frustration with my family, my friends, my co-workers, and life in general than my own mother has!
I’ve asked his opinion on everything, from where I should buy my plane tickets to Europe, to how far in advance I should buy ham for Christmas, or where you can get really good discounts on wine. Just like I do with dad for the ‘Romanian side’ of my life, I have learned to check with my boss before I make any major decisions here, in The States.
He’s always given me his best answer and his honest opinion. I knew exactly how he felt about my boyfriends, and my family, about my cats, and about the way I clean my house before I go on vacation. We disagreed on things, just like parents and kids do: anything from “don’t date that loser”, as I am stubbornly holding on to a failed relationship, to “God is a Woman”, as he stubbornly tells me over and over. I hated some of his decisions and he knew it, I hated him for not liking some of my personal choices, too. But in the end, what was great between us prevailed – the honesty and truthfulness of our bond - and that was what kept me going back! I knew he cared enough to give me a real answer, not some bogus “make me feel better” piece of BS just to get rid of me. And with this trust, the bonding grew! One can only be so lucky to find in their jobs what I found in this one person.
I called them “life questions”, as I was closing the door of his office for our “private chats”: “Hey, you know a good mechanic?” – he was replying: “You got a life question? Here’s the answer: get one!”- before I even opened my mouth.
And so, now, that he’s retired and no longer in this office, I feel like I have lost not only my boss, but a good and dear friend, and my surrogate “dad” as well. I am not planning to have any kids of my own, but this feels as close to an empty nest feeling as I’ll ever come, I guess. With “dad” moved out, I have the same feeling kids have when they’re dumped in the school bus for the first time, or to college, 5 states away. It’s this hallow, lonely feeling I am not sure how to replace or remedy! Where to turn to? How do I do this or that? I know, I need to stop the self pity and move on, and grow up – which I’ll do, slowly, I am sure. Just right now, it’s a separation and it hurts like all separations do!
Sure, he told me I can call him, but he deserves his rest and his fun! After 100 years of working (sorry, I had to do this!!), he deserves just to play golf! Plus, he never asked for any kids to take care of, so my uncertainty and tribulations should not be his burden! And I need to listen to him one last time, and just “get a life” of my own: just like birds eventually learn how to fly, I need to start using the wings he’s been mending for me for eight years – and continue to make him proud. I hope.
I can only hope I meant to him as a “surrogate daughter” as much as he meant to me as a “surrogate father”, and that time and distance will not sever what we worked so hard to build. Somehow, I just guess (or maybe it’s just hope?!) that he’ll still be there, watchful and critical, as ever, wagging his finger and telling me “ I told you so”, also encouraging and loving, even if our physical time is not there anymore. I cannot wait to continue our relationship, now, in a new setting, hopefully! I know I’ll do my part to keep it going.
And whatever you’ll tell me, “dad”, I still think God is not you, but He is, however, a Man! Thank you, again, for giving me a home, support and a good scolding when I needed it, and see you at lunch, soon! Prepare your preaching, ‘cause I am sure there will be something to preach about. Cannot wait!
We have all been through this. Times when we hate our jobs or something related to it (the boss, the company, the co-workers, the team, etc), that is. For whatever reasons, and the reasons are too many to spend time here on them, we have all seen it before … But no matter how much they suck (the reasons, that is), and no matter what we see in our jobs, when we decide to “stay” and not to “flee”, should we not also, as free thinking and deliberating adults, make a commitment that we must do a good job at it? Or at least a decent one? Should we not at least close the door of that sucky office at night saying “I did the best I could, but oh, well”?!
I have never considered myself a “career woman”. I look at my job as giving me purpose, and giving me a source of income. It has to match my skills and I have to find enjoyment in the time I spend there. It also has to teach me something new, if not every day, at least every week. It has to enrich me, somehow. Otherwise it’s a waste of time. It must not fill up my entire day, and my entire cranium. At 5 PM, if possible, with very few exceptions, I want to close that door, lock it, move into my “real life” for the evening, and then unlock it the next day.
My job is not something I plan to tell my nieces and nephews about, when I am old and gray, and sit around the Christmas fire with them. It’s not something that it will necessarily go in my “life resume”. My trips, sure; my relationships and friendships, absolutely; my picture albums, most definitely; my job – just as a background mention.
But when I spend (so much) time on it, every day, I try to give myself 100% to it. Otherwise, what is the purpose of going? Sooner or later “they” will find out you’re not doing a good job, don’t you think? And one day, we all need references. It would be nice to know they will be available…
Our company announced in the first week of this year that it’s being sold. Our Publisher told us to pretend that we never heard that announcement. I did that. I tried to do that. But everyone seems to have listened to it, VERY carefully, and to milk all the bitterness out of it … And no one cares about the tasks at hand anymore.
The tune of the day, in the building, at every level, is “who cares?”. Everyone is behind, everyone does a half-ass job, and everyone is rhetorically asking “ who cares??”. And it’s driving me batty!
Loose ends everywhere, and past due assignments, and work-around-s instead of true fixes, when fixes are available, and budgets ignored, because we’ll let the “future owners worry about them”, and all swimming in the dolce-far-niente of the soup called with a shrug “who cares?”.
And the sad part about it to me is that it’s not the news of the sale makes my job sucky; and not the repeated lay-offs, not the volatility of my job, and the insecurity about tomorrow, either. It’s this “who cares? – I’m a slacker!” attitude that drives me nuts.
I feel like sending an “Everyone” email that will tell people to grow up or get the hell out. Because I surely feel like I am working with toddlers, and not adults anymore.
I guess mom was right: “In
And I am, again, a misfit. Because the way I look at it is this: the present, and the future will do, whatever they will do, and I have no control over those. But I have to be myself, 100%, in happy times and bad. And myself cannot allow herself to be a slacker. Myself is a hard working, conscientious and ethical worker in happy times and threatening times. The environment has nothing to do with my core and with who I am – which is more important to ME than what the future and the present want to do with me.
I could not go to sleep at night if I knew my core, my true self was not out there, day in and day out. In sickness just as in health.
10 years from now, I will meet these people and to me, they’ll forever be slackers. The circumstances of today all long forgotten and gone, they will come to my mind as what they are today: self-absorbed, vengeful, lacking any kind of work ethics, ultimate slackers. That’s what will stay.
But, as the minority, I am subdued! And once again, a slave. And in the meantime, till emancipation comes, I’ll wait at the bar.
