The wife is depressed. It's one of those things. You think you're going to be terribly sympathetic and understanding when confronted with someone's supposed mental illness, but then there you are, calling someone's mental illness "supposed."
Being around a depressed person is a lot like being around a sad person, except a sad person still has to go to work and show up places where they said they'd be. For a depressed person, it's just too much to ask. They have to do exactly what they want to do at any given moment. This is the only way they can survive and fuck you for not understanding.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Saturday, April 9, 2011
No One Likes the Posters
I heard you talking about the posters. While I admit that hanging visual representations of our company's core values in the elevator banks is completely fucking ridiculous, your smug attitude about them is really no better.
"I can't believe people really buy into this," you muttered to yourself while waiting for the elevator, then gave a nervous smile when you saw I had appeared behind you. "I mean," you said, "Maybe some people need this encouragement…" I stared at you and we rode to the lobby in silence.
While I can almost appreciate your point of view as I too sometimes feel that I am the only sane one here, I am not nearly egotistical enough to really believe it. We all think the pyramid is shit. I would bet you that even the guy who designed it, thinks it is shit. There is probably one person in the entire company who doesn't think the pyramid is shit and even he has his suspicions. So your amazement at these posters' existence, with its implied condescension at all the assholes you work with, is frankly, irritating. No one believes in anything here, certainly not the posters. We're just getting through the day, just like you.
"I can't believe people really buy into this," you muttered to yourself while waiting for the elevator, then gave a nervous smile when you saw I had appeared behind you. "I mean," you said, "Maybe some people need this encouragement…" I stared at you and we rode to the lobby in silence.
While I can almost appreciate your point of view as I too sometimes feel that I am the only sane one here, I am not nearly egotistical enough to really believe it. We all think the pyramid is shit. I would bet you that even the guy who designed it, thinks it is shit. There is probably one person in the entire company who doesn't think the pyramid is shit and even he has his suspicions. So your amazement at these posters' existence, with its implied condescension at all the assholes you work with, is frankly, irritating. No one believes in anything here, certainly not the posters. We're just getting through the day, just like you.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Company Values
The company has hung poor replicas of the food pyramid in every elevator. But instead of nutritional information, these sad signs are apparently meant to illustrate the hierarchy of our company's values. It looks just like this:
But with "integrity" forming the base instead of whole grains. I would have appreciated some originality - overlapping circles or something. Now every time I leave work, I'm hungry, the shape working on my subconscious.
I have no idea why our parent company felt the need to remind us all that our core value is "integrity". I don't even know what the value of integrity means. You can be a serial killer and maintain integrity by continuing to kill people. It's a nonsense value. The entire moral code of the company is resting on something meaningless. If some inspired higher-up did this intentionally, well, my hat's off to them.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Job Search for Managers
Part of any job is spent looking at other jobs online. Everyone knows that. And it's fine when you're an assistant. It's soothing.
But one day you'll realize that the job descriptions you're mindlessly scanning are actually in your field. Instead of the whole search inspiring strange fantasies in which you're suddenly working as a video game programmer, you'll find yourself just picturing doing your job somewhere else. For a moment this will depress you, but then you'll think Maybe I should actually apply to one of these.
It's a bold idea, and you'll be worried that the new job wouldn't be any better than your current one. Maybe it would actually be worse? You'll check the salary range and realize that the logic of market valuation dictates that the job would have to be worse to in order to merit higher pay. And if you're currently not having children because your wife insists you'd need more money for their demands then any additional income you accrue would be earmarked for a diapers savings account or lamaze classes or a bigger apartment or cribs - and how does that incentivize you to move to a new, worse, job? So some tiny creature can sit in an overpriced chair while barking demands at me in its tiny creature language? It's like Communism! The more I make the more I will have taken away!
And that is why I am still at this shitty job. It will happen to you too.
But one day you'll realize that the job descriptions you're mindlessly scanning are actually in your field. Instead of the whole search inspiring strange fantasies in which you're suddenly working as a video game programmer, you'll find yourself just picturing doing your job somewhere else. For a moment this will depress you, but then you'll think Maybe I should actually apply to one of these.
It's a bold idea, and you'll be worried that the new job wouldn't be any better than your current one. Maybe it would actually be worse? You'll check the salary range and realize that the logic of market valuation dictates that the job would have to be worse to in order to merit higher pay. And if you're currently not having children because your wife insists you'd need more money for their demands then any additional income you accrue would be earmarked for a diapers savings account or lamaze classes or a bigger apartment or cribs - and how does that incentivize you to move to a new, worse, job? So some tiny creature can sit in an overpriced chair while barking demands at me in its tiny creature language? It's like Communism! The more I make the more I will have taken away!
And that is why I am still at this shitty job. It will happen to you too.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Lying in an Interview
Everyone lies in interviews. If you accuse them after the fact, people say "Oh no, I didn't lie, I just exaggerated." Whatever, you lied. It's fine. Everyone lies. I lied to get this job. In my interview, they asked if I had ever worked with some obscure computer system and I said fuck yeah and I was hired.
I experienced some mild panic over the lies I had told, but then I did what any sane person would do and Googled everything. When I came to work I had at least some knowledge of what I was saying I was an expert in. And I have never been found out, effectively transforming my lies into truths.
Now you on the other hand. I remember your interview. You were so calm, so self-assured, but just nervous enough that I didn't think you were an asshole. You told me how much you liked problem-solving, how great you were with numbers, how just totally fucking smart you were. You were a breath of fresh air and didn't look like you were about to cry, which is more than I can say for the girl who interviewed before you.
At this point you've worked here long enough for me to realize that your interview was either a once in a lifetime fluke, or you are a sociopath with different personalities. And I've been moving towards accepting that. I'm working through it, it's a process. However, when I hear you say, just outside my office door, in casual conversation with an intern, how much you hate problem-solving (who the fuck SAYS that), how horrible you are with numbers, and how, overall, you consider yourself pretty dumb - well, this is a new level. You are a whole fucking new level.
I experienced some mild panic over the lies I had told, but then I did what any sane person would do and Googled everything. When I came to work I had at least some knowledge of what I was saying I was an expert in. And I have never been found out, effectively transforming my lies into truths.
Now you on the other hand. I remember your interview. You were so calm, so self-assured, but just nervous enough that I didn't think you were an asshole. You told me how much you liked problem-solving, how great you were with numbers, how just totally fucking smart you were. You were a breath of fresh air and didn't look like you were about to cry, which is more than I can say for the girl who interviewed before you.
At this point you've worked here long enough for me to realize that your interview was either a once in a lifetime fluke, or you are a sociopath with different personalities. And I've been moving towards accepting that. I'm working through it, it's a process. However, when I hear you say, just outside my office door, in casual conversation with an intern, how much you hate problem-solving (who the fuck SAYS that), how horrible you are with numbers, and how, overall, you consider yourself pretty dumb - well, this is a new level. You are a whole fucking new level.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Assistant Appreciation Day
The company has an Assistant Appreciation Day, which I usually find….you know, fine. It's fine. If everyone wants to have a party because a group of people do their fucking jobs, that's fine with me.
It only mildly irritates me that I am expected to actually attend Assistant Appreciation Day. I mean, do I make all of you assholes come to Management Appreciation Day? No, of course not. It's a trick question too, because we don't even have one. The most appreciation I get is pretending I don't know you all hate me.
But I'll go to Assistant Appreciation Day. I'll show up and clap for you poor schmucks and smile over my whiskey. Maybe there are hardships of the assistant job that I don't fully understand, maybe fucking up someone's coffee order every day takes an emotional toll, I don't know.
However, when my boss comes downstairs and tells me that not only do I need to attend Assistant Appreciation Day, I need to leave the office at 3pm to be there on time – all because of you, because you are my personal assistant and it would apparently mean something to you if I was there for the entirety of the festivities – well, that is where I draw the line.
Up until then you had helped me in absolutely no way and been a personal pain in my ass. The one item in your favor was that you had not actually negatively impacted my life. You'd been a moot point, a zero, a burden to the company, but mostly a wash for me. It was like I had never had an assistant at all. But now the very person who was hired to make my life easier, the very person who was hired to ASSIST me has instead started to IMPEDE me. Do you see the total illogical nature of this?
Because of your day in which I dutifully showed my appreciation by drinking Johnny Walker Blue, I was forced to come into the office over the weekend. This is something I have done many times before, but never with so much resentment.
Cost/benefit analysis of you:
Benefit: None
Cost: My time on the weekend, the $200 tie on which a woman from accounting spilled her Cosmopolitan.
It only mildly irritates me that I am expected to actually attend Assistant Appreciation Day. I mean, do I make all of you assholes come to Management Appreciation Day? No, of course not. It's a trick question too, because we don't even have one. The most appreciation I get is pretending I don't know you all hate me.
But I'll go to Assistant Appreciation Day. I'll show up and clap for you poor schmucks and smile over my whiskey. Maybe there are hardships of the assistant job that I don't fully understand, maybe fucking up someone's coffee order every day takes an emotional toll, I don't know.
However, when my boss comes downstairs and tells me that not only do I need to attend Assistant Appreciation Day, I need to leave the office at 3pm to be there on time – all because of you, because you are my personal assistant and it would apparently mean something to you if I was there for the entirety of the festivities – well, that is where I draw the line.
Up until then you had helped me in absolutely no way and been a personal pain in my ass. The one item in your favor was that you had not actually negatively impacted my life. You'd been a moot point, a zero, a burden to the company, but mostly a wash for me. It was like I had never had an assistant at all. But now the very person who was hired to make my life easier, the very person who was hired to ASSIST me has instead started to IMPEDE me. Do you see the total illogical nature of this?
Because of your day in which I dutifully showed my appreciation by drinking Johnny Walker Blue, I was forced to come into the office over the weekend. This is something I have done many times before, but never with so much resentment.
Cost/benefit analysis of you:
Benefit: None
Cost: My time on the weekend, the $200 tie on which a woman from accounting spilled her Cosmopolitan.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The Good Mood
Yesterday I went home feeling that we'd had a good day. You seemed to understand the words that came out of my mouth, something I had long ago stopped taking for granted. You seemed to be listening, sort of. You seemed to almost learn.
It meant something to me. It meant maybe you could stick around. It meant maybe I wouldn't have to fire you, an unfairly intricate process which involves recording every time you fuck something up - a task which frankly, can get exhausting.
But then I realized that I had come into the office with uncharacteristic good cheer that morning. After my generous and inexplicable purchase of coffee and doughnuts for the team, I had exhibited patience, forbearance - maybe even kindness - as you told me precisely what you didn't understand about your job. As I explained the finer points of Excel for an hour or so, I spoke with the attitude of a teacher speaking to his most treasured pupil. You sat there wide-eyed, eating doughnut after doughnut as I held your hand through each step of the way.
In retrospect, you didn't learn any faster, or actually help me, or really do much of anything besides eat the free doughnuts. I was the one with the great attitude, I was the one laughing off the fact that you had been faxing papers to clients upside down for a month. So our great morning together was only a result of the fact that I woke up still drunk. It seems the only way this relationship can work is if I am constantly drinking whiskey to the point of vomiting each night - unfortunately a pipe dream.
It meant something to me. It meant maybe you could stick around. It meant maybe I wouldn't have to fire you, an unfairly intricate process which involves recording every time you fuck something up - a task which frankly, can get exhausting.
But then I realized that I had come into the office with uncharacteristic good cheer that morning. After my generous and inexplicable purchase of coffee and doughnuts for the team, I had exhibited patience, forbearance - maybe even kindness - as you told me precisely what you didn't understand about your job. As I explained the finer points of Excel for an hour or so, I spoke with the attitude of a teacher speaking to his most treasured pupil. You sat there wide-eyed, eating doughnut after doughnut as I held your hand through each step of the way.
In retrospect, you didn't learn any faster, or actually help me, or really do much of anything besides eat the free doughnuts. I was the one with the great attitude, I was the one laughing off the fact that you had been faxing papers to clients upside down for a month. So our great morning together was only a result of the fact that I woke up still drunk. It seems the only way this relationship can work is if I am constantly drinking whiskey to the point of vomiting each night - unfortunately a pipe dream.
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