The Morning After

It is time for me to whine (again) about working for a non-profit. Specifically, the dreaded Fundraiser (or as I affectionately call it, the Fundbeggar). …

I am not a fundraiser, nor do I aspire to be one. I can be a whore for my own personal gratification, but somehow, doing it for a living is something I find distasteful – of course, I am grateful to those who do and make my paycheck possible. I am a finance guy who would love to have no other responsibility than to crunch numbers, produce financial reports, and make overly complex spreadsheets. For me, fundraisers are like going to the dentist – you dread it before you go, it is painful while it is happening, and you still hurt the next day. We only do a couple of major ones a year, although they seem to be growing and having babies. Last night we had one of two big annual fundraisers and while it is necessary, I don’t like that part about coming home after midnight and being so sore from standing for hours, that I can barely walk today (wah, wah, wah).

Since before I actually started working there (as a volunteer), I have been responsible for the same task at each event – collect the money, be a cashier, make change, run auctions… etc. Any place that money needs to be paid or received is where you will usually find me. This time was different. I decided that I am not being an effective manager if I cannot have my staff do the work, thereby allowing me to “work” the event by talking to our donors, board members, and other guests. I almost pulled it off. I chose a simple task that allowed me to meet and greet the attendees as they arrived. The problem was that people arrived over the course of a three hour period and I was standing in one spot most of the evening. Ouch… my feet and back are not happy today. That, and getting home at 12:30am, still completely wired… oh well, it is part of what needs to be done (but I don’t have to be happy about it, wah, wah, wah).

Everybody wants to do outdoor events in Florida. Then they remember why it is not such a great idea, i.e. heat and humidity (“Gee, it is not usually this hot in October”… yes it is – another manifestation of that sun brain damage I wrote about last time). By the time I left I was so completely soaked through that I could barely peel off my clothes when I came home. Did I mention I hate heat and humidity? (wah, wah)

So here I am, the morning after, glad through all of my aches and pains that we have another one behind us. Tomorrow we count the money and see to what degree it was worth it. (wah)

AND, work on the next four events are in process… oy.

Il n'y est sans joie dans Mudville

I think I need to be self employed again. Anybody got a couple of $100K they don’t need?

When I really sit back and think about work, it is not all that bad. I have a good position, I really like my boss, business is showing signs of an upturn, I have flexible hours and lots of vacation time… so why is it that I want to run out the door half the time, and the other half is measured as the space between vacations? On vacation days (like today) I just want to sit quietly in solitude and not have to interact with anyone – no matter what I have planned.

This is not like me. I am a social creature, but I feel like I am withdrawing more and more. I try to avoid most people at work, which is quite the challenge considering how small our office space is. I think it was easier (in a way) when I was just a nobody at work and did what I was told. Now that I have the ear of the CEO and the respect of the board of directors (well, most of them) I have a voice, an opinion, and an influence on how business is conducted. I said it before when I worked at HP – the closer you are to the decision making process of a business, the scarier it gets. That part is pretty scary right now because it all feels so out of control. So my opinion, voice, and influence prove to be mostly a frustration when I hear, “you’re right.” Well, I think I would rather be happy than right.

Yesterday, I was reminded of my true nature – you know, that aforementioned social creature. I actually unchained myself from my desk and met with the (a?) VP of our bank. In the process of negotiating our business line of credit (quite successfully, you’re welcome) I spoke to about four or five people, engaging in conversations from simple pleasantries to serious business matters. All polite, pleasant, and even… dare I say… fun. I was in my element. I left feeling good and then returned to work, put the chain back on, and went back to juggling balls, switching hats, and putting out fires.

“Oh, by the way, the meeting with the bank was very productive.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, not only will we renew, we can increase the limit if we want.”
“That’s great, good job.”
“It‘s what I do.”

Then I turned back to my computer and continued working while I ate lunch at my desk.

I know it is easy to glamorize the past, remembering all of the positive things and forget the drudgery that happens in the day to day. But when I had my own business, there was energy, there was satisfaction, there was… joy. I never worked so hard in my life and looking back, it took a serious set of balls to leave a successful job with a major corporation and jump into the unknown. Possibly the best choice I ever made – at least in the top three.

That is not to say that I have made or I am making bad choices since then. Now, it is more about making the only choice. It is about taking responsibility and understanding consequences. I suppose I should be glad that I had the experience and just get on with dealing with the realities of getting by in this economy and living in a place where the cost of living is disproportionate to income.

But it is also about that elusive joie de vivre… seriously, I only need about $250,000. Anyone?

Human Nature

I am not a psychologist, anthropologist, or any other “ologist” whose opinion is anything other than that – an opinion. But I think I know a thing or two of human nature. I see patterns. The reason for any success I have attained during my life has come from my ability to observe, process, evaluate, and see the patterns that emerge. My ability to play several musical instruments without any training is simply hearing and reproducing the patterns of sound and transferring what I know from one instrument to another. My work in finance is recognizing that numbers are inherently neutral and only have the meaning we give them. Recognizing the patterns provides the ability to forecast and make corrections when the patterns change. My time spent in Hospitality (my only field of endeavor that deserves capitalization) was a great lesson in the patterns of human nature. Life changes and relationships have added additional information – sometimes pleasant, sometimes not.

I always start with the assumption that people have good intentions. For the most part, I still believe that is true. Unfortunately, where that is not true can been tragic, other than the valuable lessons learned. Others, I believe, start out with good intentions and then things go horribly wrong. The saddest and most damaging part of this is the effect it has on those who are within the blast zone… when one of these individuals has a flip of the internal switch that sends all civility awry, stand clear. They cannot be reconciled and they are never (in their own minds) wrong. Working from a starting point of compassion is still my modus operandi. Sadly, this pattern seems to be repeating in my life and the difficulty is to avoid it from coloring my perception to a dark shade of cynical. So far, I am succeeding, but why is it that this darkness can too easily overshadow all of the good?

This week, I have seen the best and worst in human nature – from the dark and threatening to the light and comforting. My challenge is to process all of this without dwelling on the intensity of the negative. It is far too easy to close yourself off and react to all people from your negative experiences. I choose not to do that. In spite of everything, the good far outweighs the less than good. If Anne Frank could say “It's a wonder I haven't abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart,” who am I to do otherwise?

And so ends another work week.

The Calm After The Calm

It is now a week since returning from vacation. David and I had a wonderful time and if you haven’t seen the pictures, check them out – to the right of the blog on my Flickr page. David actually has better pictures on his Facebook page, so if you have access to his page, check that out as well.

My return to work was… unusual. Usually, when I return to work from a vacation, I get irritated quickly and it proves to be a hellish week. Not this time. I felt brain-dead all week. It may be that I was actually relaxed and have become unfamiliar with the feeling. Lots got done, (although it is never enough), bills were paid, deposits made, employees were added to insurance policies, a new employee started, contact was made with a new IT company, lots of discussion on our company website, meetings were endured, a million questions were answered, toilets were repaired… you know, the usual stuff. But I took it all in stride nearly all week. Something shifted on Friday and a little bit of the tension started seeping through. I suppose I should be grateful for four relatively calm (that is, me being calm) days.

I imagine that after all of the elegant resort atmosphere, attentive staff, spa pampering, and amazing food, I should expect the mundane world to be a bit colorless. I am trying to add some color to my life by sinking my teeth into my music studio – a pleasant reminder that I have a life outside of work. It is progressing slowly, but it is getting there.

So here I am, struggling to put a few sentences together because the brain is still in a bit of a haze. Probably best that I stop here and start making some noise... I mean, music…

Cheers!

Zen, the Art of Tri-Fold, and Wisdom of Lily von Shtupp

I am tired of doctor’s offices. I am tired of waiting rooms, examining rooms, patronizing medical staff, hospitals, fasting, phlebotomists who can’t find a vein, tests, test results, more tests, insurance companies who try to dictate what your doctor should be prescribing, doctors who don’t talk to each other (yet work in the same hospital system)… as Lily von Shtupp sang in “Blazing Saddles,” “Tired of pwayin’ da game, ain't it a fwiggin’ shame… Let’s face it, I’m tired.”

There is within us all a place of strength. A place that, when we remember it is there, gives us tremendous power and resilience. It only takes a few moments a day to tap into that place and allow it to carry us through the day.

This economy sucks. It has completely fucked any plans for moving to a more temperate location and getting on with our lives in any way other than “getting by.” People’s nerves and emotions are on edge at work. One can play the role of “the voice of reason” for only so long before you want to scream ‘Don’t you people fucking get it?” Half are in panic (as they should be) and half are oblivious (as they always have been and will be). As I have observed before in other jobs, the higher up you go in the chain of decision making, the scarier it gets. Add to that, living in possibly the rudest place I have ever lived (and I come from New Jersey), it makes the day-to-day nothing more than something to be endured. I hate South Florida.

I love palm trees. My parents lived in Florida for five years and I would visit each February. They lived in a house that was right on a mangrove with exotic flora and fauna just outside their door. Of all of the things that were so different from the cold, Maine winters I would be visiting from, it was the palm trees. For some reason, they made me smile. They still do.

When I told my boss that I would be needing more time off today for a doctor visit and tests, she suggested that I take the day off. Bless her heart. At first I thought that it would only make my already unmanageable workload even worse. But as the week went on, I realized that a little time off right now would be a good thing. Still, I took work home with me and what am I doing while writing this? Laundry, cleaning up, etc. I suppose it is my way of bringing some order to a world of chaos in a way that I can control… my own personal battle with entropy. There is Zen in a clean tri-fold of shirts, towels, and underwear (yes, we tri-fold our underwear). It is 78 degrees outside; dry, sunny – and I am using my time off for laundry and logging into the server at work.

I am often surprised to hear how many people feel that they “have no choice.” “I hate my job, but I have no choice.” “I want to break up, but I have no choice.” “I want to do this another way but I have no choice.” There is always a choice. Of course, there is also accountability and consequence. When you face those two things, you choices expand considerably.

Yesterday, at work, we had a speaker who was a psychologist gracing us with her personal vision (and sales pitch for her business) about coping during these difficult times. She went on about Eastern Philosophy (mostly Buddhism) and how many of the more effective coping mechanisms used in Western culture were stolen from the East. Even though there was noting particularly wrong about what she said, who has not heard all of this before? Well, apparently everyone else in the room. I couldn’t let it go. Normally, I am a good soldier, but this one I could not let go. When she motioned the author Pema Chodron, I said “the author of ‘When Things Fall Apart’ - yup, I read it.” That got me a glare and was just the beginning. By the third of fourth round we had, she offered me $5 to keep my mouth shut. I said, “You don’t want me to do that. As a psychologist, don’t you want to know how I feel?” For all those who live in the world of psychobabble – don’t assume we are all newbies and ignorant just because you read “The Secret” and most of the other manipulative bull out there, and that you have stumbled upon THE ANSWER.

There is a place deep inside, in the heart of hearts, the place where we are our naked selves with no judgment, pretense, or walls of defense. For many, just the thought of this place frightens. For those who have been there, it is where our answers reside – only if we are listening.

“I am a walking contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction.” All of these things are me.

‘Tis the Season

I love Christmas, but even more, I love the Christmas season. I love the smells, sights, the music, the decoration, the presents (giving and getting), even the crowded stores. The world always seems a little brighter, yet softer this time of year.

But… you knew there was a but… there is the work aspect. Since we close between Christmas and New Year, it is a short month. I am happy for the time off, and I am happier still that I get paid for it, but all of the work still has to get done. When you work in finance, there is a monthly cycle and payroll still has to happen, bills still have to be paid, financial reporting still has to be completed… add to that every cold caller trying desperately to drum up new business before the end of the year…

So when I hit a normal amount of hours for a work week sometime on Wednesday, I realized why I am so tired. I was told I could take the day off today, but if I am going to make payroll next week, someone has to do bank deposits – that would be me. I worked five hours, finished all of the processing and entry necessary to do a bank deposit, and then called it a day. I think there is a nap in my near future…

It is not going to get any easier for the remainder of the month, but I do have that time off as a light at the end of the tunnel.

I really can’t complain (although, I spent the last couple of paragraphs doing just that). I have a job, a nice place to live, a functioning car, and a wonderful, supportive, loving partner. Not everyone is so blessed.

‘Tis the season to remember these things.

Common Sense

I hate it when I’m right.

Look… I don’t claim to be perfect – far from it. But I do possess an apparently rare quality – Common Sense. As much as I love some of my co-workers, there seems to be a serious void in the common sense arena. Here is just one example…

A couple of weeks ago, someone called our office with a wonderful idea for a donation – a 20 foot Christmas tree. I overheard the conversation and was gesturing wildly, non-verbally communicating the word “NO” in every way conceivable… to no avail. When I started asking the obvious questions like “Where, exactly, are we going to put it when our ceiling is 16 feet?,” I was told that I am a spoilsport and I say no to everything. Well, yes… like to the albatross of a copier that takes up a big chunk of a tight office and now sits, not functioning, with no technical support that came with this generous donation.

There is a theme here that nobody else seems to recognize… people don’t get rid of things that are useful. But they do dump them on a non-profit organization to get a tax break. Fortunately, I have intercepted a few of these calls and said what others seem incapable of saying; “No, thank you.”

Yesterday the tree arrived. It is, of course, an artificial tree, because live ones don’t fare well in our winter heat. The poor delivery guy wheeled in a pre-decorated tree that stood about six feet tall. Everyone said that I worried for nothing… um, people… that’s the top of the tree. Then three, four foot sections came in next and the panic started. I asked if that was it, and it turned out there was one more section. Short of cutting a hole in the roof, the only alternative is putting it outside. Thinking they were being creative, my crazy co-workers suggested we stake it to the ground. When I pointed out that our “ground” outside is all brick, the real panic ensued. Some thought it was funny – I was not amused.

As the crazy people went back and forth with crazy ideas, I talked to the delivery guy and found out how the sections went together. After trying out different possibilities, we found a way to connect the bottom section into its 4’ X 4’ base (like we have room for that) and put the top piece into it – that alone, almost went to the ceiling. All excited, my crazy co-workers were about to take all of the limbs that needed to be inserted and I said “STOP!” If you take the limbs that are supposed to go in that bottom section, you will have a wide bottom and a skinny top. So we started sorting out limbs that would go into the second section – all while the poor delivery guy is still having to hang around.

When that was done, I told them I had real work to do and to have fun putting it together. I’m the finance guy, not the interior decorator. I have a board meeting coming up where I have the unenviable task of reporting on our current financial status. I walked away and went back to work, allowing the crazy people to do some crazy decorating.

This was not how I planned to spend my work day.

I can’t wait until they figure out that when it comes down after the Holidays, we have to find a place to store it…

Stress Release

If you watched the video, you will understand why I am off from work. Tension can only build up to a point where you have to let off some steam. I don’t think it was an overreaction, do you?

Fortunately, there are those who understand my distress. When I sent my “out of office” email auto response to my web guy (AKA my friend Tom, AKA designer of the Mr. Bitch t-shirt, AKA look at the link to the right of the blog that says “Tom”), I received this revised version:

I will be out of the office until Tuesday, October 28. I don't care if you need anything from now until then. Figure it out for yourself. THEY CALL THIS BEING PROACTIVE - do YOU know what PROACTIVE IS??? or are you still on B in the dictionary?

If it is ABSOLUTELY an emergency call 911 or 411 or - whoever the hell else you want to call but DONT CALL ME because I simply don't give a shit.

Good luck - hope not to see you again.
Mr. Bitch

Clearly, I have expressed my feelings about my work associates directly and accurately. But you probably ascertained that from the video.

So with that, I bid you all a happy and stress-free weekend.

Fundbeggar Event #7

… but who’s counting…

I feel I have been run over by a steamroller. Every muscle in my body is aching as if I have the flu – but I don’t. I feel like I have a hangover – without the benefit of alcohol. What would cause this malaise? Welcome to the world of the Fundraising Event.

Our little non-profit does a couple of these a year and I hate them. I don’t think I expressed that strongly enough. I HATE THEM… even that doesn’t express it, but you get the picture.

If I didn’t give a crap, these events would be easy. I would let the person who is supposed to handle this (ie – this is not my job) go down in flames through their own destructively nonchalant approach. But the mission of a cancer care support organization that is free to its members is too important to let the organization fail. So I ask the “did you do this,” “how is this being handled,” “what is the process” questions as my boss is getting nauseous about what is left to the last minute – or completely forgotten.

This is where my hospitality experience kicks in. No matter what – at all cost, an event should look effortless and seamless – Especially when people are paying $150 a ticket in this economy. Fortunately, we pulled one off again, but at the cost of frazzled nerves and MY sore muscles (not to mention money). When you spend an entire day preparing, and then hold the event while unconsciously tensing your muscles until 12:30 am… ouch. I’m getting too old for this crap.

One very good but somewhat surreal aspect of the evening was having David there. Since he left the organization last year, I have slowly and eerily taken over the exact role he had – right hand and confidant to the CEO (different CEO) and the person who holds it all together and makes sure it all gets done properly. It was equally surreal for him, returning to the place he continues to have a great passion for but was unceremoniously removed from. I can’t imagine how it must have felt for him, but I give him great credit for attending and making polite conversation with the people who were responsible for him losing a job he loved – through no fault of his or lack of competence, quite the opposite – his great skill and value to the organization continues to be irreplaceable… chalk it up to political bullshit. In spite of all this, David’s presence last night was the brightest spot of the evening for me.

So tomorrow I count the money and Tuesday I report to the board of directors on how much of a financial success or disappointment the event was. If it was not a financial success (and I seriously doubt it was), I have the option of political suicide by throwing the (recently former) board chair’s wife under the bus for all of the ways she undermined the event financially (long story). Or I could just give them the numbers and let them figure it out. I’m going with plan B unless pressed…

So, in summery… I’m tired, I’m sore, I’m cranky, and I get to try and clean up the financial mess in a bad economy. Sucks to be me… but it could be worse – I could be having my own financial meltdown with the growing ranks of the unemployed down here. There… I ended on a positive note. See… I’m smiling. OK, enough smiling; those muscles hurt too.

Not Exactly a Vacation – Epilogue

Let’s not call it time off. Let’s call it staying at home (mostly) and being constantly annoyed, harassed, and generally pissed of at people who can’t think for themselves for FOUR FREAKING DAYS.

Earlier, I said that I have not whined about work for a while. I intend to change that...

It is official. I did not have one day of my “vacation” where I was not contacted by work for reasons from the ridiculous to the more ridiculous. When, on Wednesday, I issued an edict that I would no longer be looking at or responding to emails, but rather acting like I was on vacation, I thought I was pretty clear. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there.

Monday was a Holiday, so nobody was at work… thank God for Holidays. Tuesday was countless emails about getting what I needed to do a payroll from home (my fault for choosing a payroll week) and several “while I have you” emails. Wednesday was doing payroll at an ungodly hour because the cable guy was coming to repair our wireless signal – we already talked about that, but let me reiterate that the cable guy was an IDIOT! When the emails starting coming to my personal account, I had to issue aforementioned edict. Thursday was the panic about getting ready for a hurricane that IF it was actually heading in this direction would not be an issue for at least five days. Did that deter them from panicking? No. Did my edict hold? No. Did not responding to emails work? No. That’s when the phone calls started.

Let me say at this point that I am not a genius, a psychic, or in possession of any superhuman abilities… in other words, these are things that anybody can handle if only they would allow their brains to engage before working their mouths.

I snuck into work very early Friday morning to get out the plans for the hurricane shutters (even if it was too early to put them up) and directions for changing the system voicemail message (which didn’t need to be done). I made a copy of each to leave as a present for my boss and almost got out the door… almost. I could hear someone downstairs as I was leaving and I knew it was my boss *sigh* She is a very, very nice woman and she looked like she was about to burst into tears. It seems that in three sort days, the crazies had gotten to her to the point where she felt like she was losing her mind. Uh, yeah…I understand. You see, she and I share an office; we’re roomies and we get along very well. We bounce ideas off of each other, laugh a lot, and make the best of a… let’s say, difficult work environment. We’re a team. Uncouple the team, and apparently there is trouble.

I listened to her for an hour (did I mention that this is my vacation?) and when she said that she was starting to feel better, I recognized my cue to leave and possibly have one day of a vacation-like illusion. No such luck… While finally doing something with a friend that resembled having a life, the phone rang – Incoming text message “r u there?” I turned to my friend and said “Why do I do this to myself” as I, the world’s slowest texter (not a real word), responded. We were out, and about to head home, so I allowed myself those five short minutes before I called. Hurricane panic again. I was brief, I was curt, I was in no way going to be party to a plan that was a knee-jerk reaction to an undetermined problem that would involve going into work over the weekend which, by the way is STILL PART OF MY VACATION.

So that is how I spent my week off. My goodness, am I SO primed for Monday…

Not Exactly a Vacation…

… but close enough. Let’s call it time off. I am taking advantage of a Holiday weekend to have a full week of greatly needed time off.

I have not whined about work for a while, but I will say this much. I need a serious reset. I’m thinking of having a reset button installed… somewhere near the port for a memory card that I have planned. What do you think – neck, forehead? The neck would be better aesthetically, but the forehead would be more practical because I wouldn’t have to fumble without being able to see where I am inserting the card. Maybe a different spot for each… the last thing I need is for some damn fool to come running up and hit a reset button on my forehead. I would probably think it was time to start my day over. Hmmm… the challenges of bionics.

But I digress… and probably inadvertently proved my need for a reset.

So, the “not exactly a vacation” part has to do with the fact that we are not going anywhere. But that’s OK, I have enjoyed home vacations before. But David has to work… but that’s OK (for me, not him), I just need time away from work. But I forgot when I planned this time off that it is a payroll week, so I will have to do that (from home, I hope). But that’s OK, it should only take a few hours. But it will involve communicating with people from work, and I don’t know about you, but to me a vacation means NO communication with work…

I work at strange place where the managers feel they need to be in constant communication with work on their time off. That’s just wrong. Why bother taking the time off if you are checking your work email and making calls to “check in?” I am dedicated, but that is just obsessive and more than a little controlling. I have a good, competent staff and I trust them to do what needs to be done. Someone needs to change that mindset and I am happy to start a new trend.

Now that I whined about work (yet again), the fact remains that I AM on vacation and I have some fun projects planned. Woe be the first misguided soul to call me from work and say “Help me Poppa Smurf, we don’t know what to do!”

The Morning Commute

I hate crying. It clogs the sinuses and often starts a headache. It is particularly bad when driving because you either have to pull over or squint through your tears to see the road. When it happens during a morning commute, who really wants to take the time to pull over?

Yesterday, preoccupied with the prospect of experiencing my first hurricane, I thought the flashing lights in the distance might be due to a road closed from flooding. I thought, “Great, just a mile from home and I am going to get detoured.” As I got closer, I could see that there were three police cars with their noses all pointing towards each other in the middle of the road. I thought it strange and proceeded slowly, as the few cars on the road braving the weather went down to one lane. It was just a couple of car lengths before the intersection, so I was right beside the police activity as I was stopped for the red light. When I turned my head and looked, my hand went to my mouth in horror and I couldn’t stop the tears.

An empty car was in the center turning lane, and a few feet in front of it was a wheelchair. The wheelchair was knocked on its side with pieces of metal scattered all around.

Just beyond the base of the chair was a single, empty shoe.

I have seen him sitting at the intersection. His hair long and wild, I imagined that he might be a Vietnam vet. When he would cross this very busy intersection, he would do it with impressive speed, but he was unpredictable. Sometimes he would just dart out, sometimes he would wheel himself backwards, while other times he would carefully wait for the light. He might have been homeless; he was probably not mentally stable. But he was as much a part of my daily commute as the road itself – except he had a name.

The police officers were taking pictures of the scene and going about their business in what appeared to be an emotionally detached way. I realize that they see things like this, and worse, every day. But the placement of cars, police officers, empty wheelchair, and shoe, looked like a bizarre still life carefully being photographed - that someday, might appear in an exhibition of surrealistic hyper-realism.

Had I left for work a few minutes earlier, I may have been part of that picture.

I have seen this man every day on my way to work for nearly two years. I did not see him this morning.

There was no hurricane, just a lot of rain.

I went about my day, like any other day.

I can’t get the image of that empty shoe out of my head.

They Say There’s No Such Thing…

… as a stupid question.


Now, I am not completely without compassion and I don’t expect everyone to be a tech geek. But still, there are times when the desire to ask, “DID YOU READ THE FUCKING DIRECTIONS OR ARE YOU JUST ILLITERATE!” (thanks, Tom – your royalty check and t-shirt are in the mail), is very strong.

Those of us who work in a technology intensive field, have to work with technologically challenged people, or just have common sense and are searching for the glimmer of the light of intelligence in any co-worker’s eyes, might understand the picture above. I don’t know whether it is a fabrication, a clever bit of photoshoped humor, or a real help screen - but to whoever submitted this picture to Google Images… I understand and feel your pain.

True story… back in my days of working at HP we had just such a challenged admin. She was trying to install software and got stuck when the message appeared “PRESS ANY KEY.” For the life of her, she could not find the key to press that was labeled “Any.” So, she called the help desk and told them that her keyboard was missing a key... you can’t make this stuff up.

For nearly two years, I have been the equivalent of our little business’ help desk. I have endured the slings and arrows of outrageous inquiries about email, “broken” PC’s, keyboards, and mice (mouse’s, mouses?) that were actually unplugged or otherwise disconnected. I “fixed” copiers and printers that were out of paper. I “made the digital camera work” by charging the batteries. I have been a hero, a savior, a god… but no more.

I hired someone to take on one of my five jobs where I work. For the past week, I have experienced the singular joy of redirecting all of the calls of technology doom and disaster to another. I feel a sense of relief that I have not known for lo, these past two years. While he is taking it all in stride (yes, HE – I had the audacity to hire a male in our little gynocracy), I sit snickering inside waiting to see how long it will take him to mutter the bold words above.

Ah, life’s little joys… ya gotta take ‘em where you can.

Deep Breaths…

…did you ever have one of those days when you knew you would have been better off staying in bed? Of course you have. Today was my turn. Let’s run down, the list, shall we?

1. When I arrived at work, there was a very strong odor of fish. OK, let’s get past the obvious jokes… some fool taught a cooking class last night and cooked fish in a placed that is never going to have a window open because it is too freaking hot here. I like fish, but this smelled really bad.

2. There was a sticky note on my monitor. I hate sticky notes on my monitor because they never say things like “Hi Thom, I was just thinking about how wonderful you are and wanted to post it on your monitor to cheer you up first thing in the morning.” They say things like “FYI, the basement flooded again : )” Yes, they had the audacity to put a smiley face on the note as if this was going to be my best news of the day. Sadly, it was.

3. The alarm system decided to start beeping randomly, then at regular intervals. Could someone pick up a phone and call ADT to tell them? No, I had three people pick up the phone to complain to me about it. One of them is close enough that she could have just shouted it to me. One did shout it to me…

4. I hate meetings. I hate pointless meetings. I hate meetings that run off on tangents from scatter-brained people who couldn’t follow a linear line of thought if someone tied a rope to their head and pulled. I had one of those this morning, but the best part is that I wound up with al of the action items because I am the only one who can handle the mess made by aforementioned non-linear thinkers. No pressure, it all only needs to be completed by tomorrow…

5. Cowgirls. That’s my nickname (aside from she-devils) for my co-workers who never think things though, but rather just constantly shoot from the hip. Today, it was “let’s screw up my PC and make Thom fix it” day. I listened patiently to the imaginary PC problems, told them to step aside, and found no problem. “But it wasn’t working before! What did you do?” I didn’t sit there pounding keys impatiently waiting for a program to do what it is supposed to do when you stop pounding the freaking keys! .

6. The server is stuck in a back-up loop and won’t get unstuck. I called for support and got some of the best double-speak I have heard in a long time. No help there. If it’s not better by tomorrow, I will do what I need to do – turn the damn thing off and let it reset itself. Not the most elegant way around the problem, but it works… usually.

7. Did I mention that I am the Finance Manager? Did I get to work on the budget that is now a week past due? No. Will I get crap for it not being finished? Yes. Did I go home early because I was going to blow a gasket? Yes.

Actually, I was planning on going home a bit early… I am expecting a furniture delivery and they won’t deliver if no one is home. I just left a bit sooner than I planned. So now I am home, enjoying the silence and imagining the sticky notes that are being plastered all over my monitor…

It Was Nice…

… while I lasted. As good as it is to have three day off, it is really too short. It seems to have highlighted the need for a REAL vacation. I look forward to the end of June when David and I are off for a week – a whole honest-to-goodness week.

Oy… I am so not ready for tomorrow. Oh well, so it goes…

Put the coffeemaker on the timer and put the Tums in my briefcase – and so begins another work week.

Après Trey

As anticipated, the week after “it’s finally over” is proving to be a killer. In addition to the ladies who composed two thirds of the trio who ran the show last Saturday (the third is me) being away on vacation, another coworker is out sick all week. That’s three out of a staff of ten – and four of the remainder are part time employees, and one of the remaining is completely incompetent… that pretty much leaves my boss and me. My boss has been at meetings, lunches, media events… the usual boss lady stuff… so while it has been a quiet week, it has been a very BUSY week.

We lowly finance people do not have glory jobs. The event people, fundraisers, program coordinators, and anyone associated with children’s programs are usually in the spotlight. I get to clean up the mess afterwards, pay the bills, and make sure that everyone gets paid on time. Some of my highlights of the week included the joy of explaining to someone why their tickets to our event are not tax deductible, how someone who paid nearly $30,000 for a winning auction bid (a motorcycle) had to get the bike out of the venue this week and pay for the towing himself, and fend off a steady stream of “How much did we make?” from people who think the credit cards process themselves, everything automatically enters itself into Quickbooks, and the bills all come on time. I also got to meet with a rep from Pitney Bowes because our lease is nearly up… talk about your good times!

The real highlight of the week was the board of director’s meeting Tuesday evening. Aside from being a 12 hour day, I am the official board bitch, so I have to prepare all of the reports, agenda, minutes, and play “hostess with the mostess” when they all arrive. Actually there was a real highlight – the resignation of a board member who is the foulest sort of creature to slither the swamp that is South Florida. He is the pompous ass who unceremoniously escorted David out the door when his job was eliminated. A rare moment of vindication – this ass made a fool of himself one too many times and after 13 years on the board, he removed himself. The chairman quickly squashed any protest and made it clear that we should honor his wishes. Just when I thought said chair didn’t have a set… There was much celebration in my office…

But it has taken its toll. I am putting in a ridiculous number of hours and I am still not keeping pace with what needs to be done. I woke at 2 am and spent the rest of the night running back and forth to the bathroom… yuck. I went to work, but I was barely there mentally. I made it until about 2 pm and just hit that wall. I faced the reality that I was completely useless today. So I came home and slept until about 5 pm, decided to get this all out (aren’t you lucky?) and I will meet with my boss at 8 AM tomorrow to review the new fiscal year’s budget – that I have to complete in three weeks.

BUT… the work day ends at noon tomorrow and I have an honest to goodness three day Holiday weekend!!! It sucks that David has to work on Saturday, but we both have Monday off. Time off… I have almost forgotten what it is like.

Yay for Holiday weekends and Imodium!

So… how has your week been?

Trèy Bien

No, my French is not that bad… it relates to the story about:

It’s Finally Over…

…sort of. The most dreaded day of the year – the annual BIG fundraiser that can make or break our little non-profit. The basket we foolishly put all of our eggs into, then try stretch this money until the next annual BIG fundraiser.

Some people enjoy this kind of thing. I don’t. I am not an event planner, I am not a fundraiser, I don’t even get the concept of non-profit… OK, I do, but I have always worked in for-profit business and that’s the business world that makes sense to me. But not only do I get roped into this and all of the other smaller fundraisers, I am always the one who has to deal with the raffles (bad idea), auctions (worse idea) and anything that remotely deals with money or the collection of cash, checks, credit cards, and anything people want to throw at us. I am the finance guy – Give me with my HP12C calculator and an Excel spreadsheets and I’m happy.

Well, it has now gone to another level of personal hell for me. Since letting go of experienced, competent staff (i.e. David), I am now pretty much running the show. Which means that I don’t get to enjoy the entertainment (that’s a story in itself) I have to be in three places at once orchestrating volunteers collecting money for a raffle, and training them in five minutes or less to be spotters and runners for a live auction and dealing with those, yes, again, damn mechanical swipe credit card machines. This year, the “organizers” of the event decided to have three auctions spaced out during the performances – with no room for as much as a table for me to get organized. So I stood for the better part of eight hours.

Did I say I hate events and I am not an event planner? Well, no one at work seems to get that.

But to show that I have not completely turned into a bitter bitch who only complains about work, I have to admit that there was one good (and very funny) thing that came out of the evening.

The day before the BIG fundraiser, a group of us went to the theatre to go over our logistics (that seemed to change every five minutes) with the theatre people. It took about five seconds to recognize that everyone involved with the theatre was gay (gee, in Fort Lauderdale… go figure). The manager was very nice and we quickly connected to the point that he started directing all of his questions to me. Now, it could be a gay thing, but I am going with the theory that it was his astute sense in recognizing who was sane and actually doing something other than looking pretty, stupid, or pretty stupid.

The funny part was when I arrived yesterday (at 3 pm for a 7:30 to 11:30 event). While standing amongst the ladies who were supposedly running the show, the manager came over to me and introduced me to Trey… my personal assistant for the evening. The look on their faces was almost worth the agony of the event. They were supposedly running the show and I got a personal assistant… hehehe. I was assured that Trey was there to provide me with anything I need… and my goodness, did Trey just follow me like a puppy asking me if I need water, a chair, or anything (and the word anything was repeated several times).

Let me take a moment to describe Trey. Have you ever met a young, extremely good looking Persian or Middle Eastern guy? Trey is just that. His eye contact was direct with a slight dilation of the pupils when he spoke to me (I know a bit about body language). The women were drooling and I was enjoying every minute of it. He completely ignored them… does it get any better? At one point in the evening I had to leave the theatre and put stuff in my car. I took one of the ladies with me because the theatre door would lock behind me and I needed to get back in quickly. Before hand touched door, Trey practically knocked her over and said “I’ll walk you to your car,” and dismissed her with a glance. We had a nice little chat, Trey and I, he let me in backstage and asked the anything question again.

Oh Trey, you made an old guy feel special for a few hours.

It was best summed up by one of my co-workers who was assigned to assist me with the auction. She is a very attractive young lady looking particularly hot in a tight fitting red silk dress and FM heels. With her at my side, and a gaggle of young female volunteers, Trey came over to ask me the anything question without as much as a glance at any of the fine looking ladies. In her lovely British accent, my co-worker said, “Well wasn’t he just all about you… don’t you just have too many bitches here tonight.”

Hehehe..

Oh, the “sort of over” part. The two ladies supposedly running the show are both leaving for a vacation – one for three weeks in Ireland, the other for a week on the coast of North Carolina. I have to go to work tomorrow, sort out all of the money collected in the chaos, run credit cards, call in pledges, summarize the information, get ready for a board of directors meeting, get busy on he annual budget that is due very soon… so it’s never really over.

But they will never have Trey, will they… hehehe…

Out Of The Frying Pan…

I am sitting in a hotel room looking at a view of something I haven’t seen in two years – mountains. I don’t count Vented Landfill Mountain on Rt. 95 as more than a blip in the flatness of Florida. I am on a business trip in Palm Springs, CA… OK, I know what you are thinking – wow, nice gig. Well, it is nice to get away, I am traveling with my boss who is as much of a buddy as a work associate, but… you knew there as a but… It is an organization of 99% women (chatty, chatty women) and the seminars and workshops are like a reintroduction to the corporate world… something I thought I left behind.

It’s not all bad. It is a good organization and I am meeting some very nice people. But (another but) the days are longs and each day seems to get more intense. For example, today’s activities start at 7:30 and end at 10 PM. Given the three hour time difference, this is WAY past my bedtime.

What a strange area. I have been to the desert before (south Arizona), but not here. Other than what has been artificially introduced to the area (golf courses, palm trees) there is no color. The mountains, while striking, are grey or brown. The winds, which I am grateful for after our first day hit 100 degrees, are ceaseless. Last night looked like a blizzard with sand instead of snow- it makes for interesting night driving. The nighttime view of a fire on top of a mountain was disquieting, although I’m not sure what can burn on barren rock. I look at it as an interesting place to visit… check it off the list of potential place to see.

It is good to be out of the office, even if I am getting annoying emails from work. They think I can fix their computer problems from here. Right… the problem is seldom the computer. I am trying to have fun with it as much as possible. What makes it difficult is the presence of three of our board members in attendance. They are, well… did I mention my boss is nice?

OK, off to shower and get ready for ten hours of back-to back seminars. I hope you are all having as much fun in your world.

Be good, my friends…

P.S. – David, I miss you so much! Next time I go away, I’m taking you with me. In this situation, it would be a little too much fun… then again I need to keep my job : )

On Being Bitchy

I went into the day knowing it was going to be a bad one. I promised myself that no matter what happened, I would remain calm, cool, and collected. I was none of those.

Since I work for a non-profit organization, we get involved in fund raising events. I hate these events – all of them. Here’s how it goes for me… gather all of the credit card machines and slips (yes, the old mechanical card swipe variety), grab some cash to make change, gather lots of pens, and hope somebody at the event has a clue about a process – any process –any idea of what I can expect.

I had my stuff ready, and as usual, nobody had a clue. It was a Casino event in an open airport hangar, which could be fun if you’re NOT IN SOUTH FLORIDA. It was brutally hot and humid – a VERY bad combination for me. The people running the event were nowhere to be found and so people started arriving asking me question that I had no idea how to answer. First I was annoyed, then I got pissed, how far behind can bitchy be?

Not far, it turned out.

Fortunately, the bitchiness was not directed at the people who were giving me money. Unfortunately, it was directed at my coworkers. Most didn’t deserve it, but some, correction… one, did deserve it. SHE, as I will refer to her, first pissed me off when SHE discovered SHE had a flat tire and went straight into high drama. SHE, who was supposed to be running the show for our little non-profit, left just before the event was supposed to start, leaving us high and dry and trying to figure out what we were supposed to be doing. When SHE returned, did SHE help? No, SHE went to the gaming tables and played all night. The final blow was when it was time to leave. At this point I was drenched, tired, and more than ready to get into my air conditioned car heading for my air conditioned home. With our arms full of things to bring back to the office, why can’t we leave? Because SHE was having another crisis – SHE couldn’t find her lip gloss so we couldn’t leave… that’s when I lost it.

“Lip gloss? LIP GLOSS? Oh yeah, we’re ready to leave… aren’t we ready to leave everyone? Yup, we are SO ready to leave. Have fun … good luck finding the LIP GLOSS!” With just a tad of sarcasm in my voice and daggers flying from my eyes, I stormed out the door.

In retrospect, I might feel bad or at least be concerned for Monday morning since SHE and I share an office. But since I am going on a business trip next week, I won’t see HER for another week. SHE can chew on it for the week. SHE can chew on the bloody lip gloss for all I care.

I am not normally inclined to displays of drama. I do my best to control my inner bitch. Sometime, however, ya just gotta let ‘er loose…

Always

The usual suspects of my office space
are strewn across the desk.
A study in organized disarray
both functionally and aesthetically displeasing
at once
in a fashion, or lack of fashion
that would make the most attention deficient
proud.

But over in the corner,
tucked between the phone
and my grossly ostentatious display
of position (not) and power (not)
(an engraved NAME and TITLE
that is in itself a study in bad taste),
is a picture.

In a little gold frame,
a little picture
of a man whose smile lights my life.
The cleaning crew may wonder
as they wipe around the clutter late this night
why the nameplate is a man’s
and the picture is of a man
but if I cared about that
the picture wouldn’t be there…
or maybe the name plate wouldn’t…

It doesn’t matter.

My love is always watching
with a smile on his face
as if he knows that his virtual presence
is a way to haunt this place
that treated him so poorly.

Let them think what they may.
You will always be by my side.

Always