Peeved

Last night I was excited about having all day Saturday to focus on the kajillion things left to do for the move when I got a phone call.

Someone needs an urgent photo shoot - a test shoot to help sell a new contract. Greaaaaaaaaat. I called the agent and right from the start it was clear that she has a ginormous bug up her ass (in the shape of her own head). Not only is my Saturday going to be ruined, but now it's going to be ruined by a total asshole - even better.

We finally agreed on a time and while I was trying to get her to tell me the address, she asked me where I'm located. First, what the hell does that matter - is she planning on coming to my house to make me breakfast?

I tell her I'm in Alameda and she says, "Oh that's so far away!" The job is in Tiburon. I told her that's only about 30 minutes from me. "Oh no, that's at least 45 minutes." Again, who gives a shit? Is this really important?

Trying to lighten the mood, I told her it doesn't take that long if I'm driving. Then she says without any trace of humor whatsoever, "What are you driving, a helicopter?"

Yes, as a matter of fact, I have my own chopper and heliport here in my back yard. The neighbors hate me, but I think it's important to have options.

This agent is supposedly one of the wealthiest in the country, selling homes to celebrities and billionaires, and unfortunately, she's a humorless troll. She started asking me about equipment and how much time I could spend photographing this house, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

I suspect I'll get there and she'll immediately start telling me what to do and how to do it. And just like the other day when I couldn't hold my tongue, I'm not sure today will be any different. I couldn't care less about this house, its views, how much it's listing for or what she wants me to photograph. She can have a big giant poster print of my colon.

Had she been at least polite or in any way flexible about timing or not grilled me on where I live and how long it takes me to drive, she might have been in for great service, but right now, it's all I can do to not call and cancel.

But just like Cameron in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, I'll go, I'll go, I'll go, I'll go, because if I don't, she'll just keep calling me, and then I'll end up killing her with my tripod.

If she turns out to be just as shitty as she was on the phone, I'll quietly gather up my stuff and leave without saying a word, because all I care about is getting this move behind me and starting the next chapter far away from this bullshit.

Update:
She arrived over a half an hour late, which is funny considering how concerned she was about me being able to get there by 11am, and she lives five minutes away. Amazingly enough, she camped out in a small corner of the house and made numerous phone calls, allowing me to work without distraction.

Many times she mentioned that she has two chateaus in France. Two. Chateaus (or chateaux, if you want to be really frenchy about it). In France. She asked me if I could scale a 6-ft. tall property fence to get a better shot of the front of the house, to which I said I would not, but I would gladly ask the neighbors up the hill if I could use their deck. They weren't home, but I tried.

While trying to weakly explain a particular shot she wanted of the back of the house, I thought about pushing her down the stairs right into the pool, but I didn't want to spare the extra time. At ten after 1pm, I said I really had to get going, to which she quickly replied, "Oh I have to go, too, I have clients waiting for me..." She was probably very late, but who cares about time when you have two chateaus in France.

Sadful

Got home from work today and felt totally empty and depressed, like someone had died. With Cameron, Jeff, Julie, Shauna and now Christina gone and Miriam transitioning out of the group, I realized there will be no one left to hand things down to.

A few people have come & gone in the past couple of years, but there has always been an intact group to carry on. All the institutional knowledge and folklore that isn't documented anywhere is passed on so the group can successfully continue in its role.

And toys - "inherited" silly toys, pictures and trinkets decorate the area - little mementos to remind us of former teammates. Like Michael's Grand Marshall name plate and the picture of our mascot, Bob. Pictures of Lewis on a surf trip. Julie's play-doh sea monster sculpture. Jeff's checkered table cloth desk. It will all be left behind and no one will remember our names or what we did.

It won't be long before we're all gone. For the first time since the group was started five years ago, the department will cease to exist. Decimated. At a company with plenty of ongoing revenue and resources.

And it was confirmed this week that the reason for the re-org was to motivate one person to leave. Instead of dealing with the issue directly, an entire group was treated like furniture and moved around without any regard for who we are, what we do, and how the group needs to function to be successful.

One stupid move destroyed a highly-productive, valuable group. Will those responsible ever stand up and admit their mistake? Not likely. They act like it was just a natural cycle of some sort. What a huge disappointment.

Cat Power

I worked from home on Friday to go back through a 90+ page copy deck for a major site enhancement. The deck is based on almost 60 pages of wireframes and after the first pass I like to go back through at least one more time to review and catch whatever I missed.

It's a tedious, time-consuming process. It generally goes faster on the second pass, but it's a methodical thing that shouldn't be rushed.

I brought home a new set of wireframes, knowing they'd changed yet again, but hoped the changes would be minor enough that it wouldn't slow down the review process. I was mistaken.

A third of the way through the wireframes I came unhinged. They *had* been approved as final two weeks ago, as they should be before copy begins, but as always, there is no lock down at any phase of any project - ever. The review became all about finding minor tweaks in the wireframes instead of completing a thorough second pass.

I vocalized my frustration to no one in particular, since I was in my living room by myself except for the bird and a couple of cats. Nikita was napping in her kitty bed when I started mouthing off.

She got up and jumped onto the back of the couch, behind my head, and tried to creep down the front of me to get into my lap. I stopped her because I still had my computer in my lap, but she wouldn't be shoved away.

She was purring loudly and ended up nestled against my neck under my chin. She's never jumped on me and started purring before.

I think she was trying to take the wind right out of my lame sails. Why I let this crap frustrate me like this I don't know, and as she forced herself into my shoulders and under my chin, all I could do was laugh. She'd calmed me right down.

Ass End of April

Sure am happy May is here - April sucked.

A couple of weeks ago David was suddenly "reassigned" at his job without any warning or rationale, after five years of stellar performance and constant, consistent high praise.

The reason they first gave was that a few deliverables weren't on target. Deliverables he had no clear requirements for, nor any feedback to guide the direction, despite repeated requests for requirements and reviews.

The second reason had something to do with supervisory style, yet, he was not a supervisor. What's next - he was coming in too early and staying a little too late? What's the actual story kids?

I think what a friend said might be true, that it's becoming more common to work in companies run by people who have no clue how to run a successful business.

And without any time to process all this crap, his grandfather passed - not unexpectedly, though still sad - and he had to jump on a plane back east.

Today I went to move his car into the driveway and it didn't turn over. He left his parking lamps on for, I'm guessing, three days. I jumped it and drove it around for 45 minutes, but I'm not sure it'll be enough. He might light it on fire if it's still dead when he gets home.

And now I think Neo is depressed, missing his dad - I'm hoping that's all it is. He wasn't interested in his dinner, but to be fair, I didn't give them wet food tonight, which to Neo is what makes the sun come up every day. He seemed to perk up when I put his dad on speaker phone later on.

As my dad said, you never know when something might jump up & bite you.

Nothing Wrong With Shooting...

...As long as the right people get shot.

Got an invite last Friday afternoon for a mandatory, all-staff meeting first thing Monday morning. Last minute... mandatory... all staff... those are never good.

It wasn't about layoffs, but it was a re-org, though the re-org doesn't make much sense. They've all but dismantled the UE group and no one's telling us why.

It seems like no one really thought through all the details. When our (now unhappy) ID's asked about the new structure, they were told it was done to make their lives better, yet no one asked them for input.

What's really behind the re-org? Why can't we hear the whole story? Are we not adults?

So Happy To Be Back

Such a great day. Started off with a nice enough staff meeting, then I was pulled into a meeting with Mothra who was laying piles of eggs all over the office about pages that hadn't yet been posted live.

It's just such a joy to come into a meeting where the first thing I have to say is, "You have to calm down - seriously - please, calm down," before I can begin to repeat the same information I've already supplied four times before.

Mothra didn't think I was making her content a top priority. Never mind the fact that I cannot control the technology used to publish this content. It's like complaining to my boss that I still haven't made the city streets out of chocolate.

It's amazing how hard it is to resist the urge to stand up and wrap your hands tightly around someone's throat.

Only if I want to be forcibly escorted out of the building can I give into those urges. That day may come, but I need to take some stuff home first.

Then there was the kickoff meeting to build a tool there's no data or research to support. If there is, no one's offering it up, yet everyone sat there saying, Oh yes, let's build this thing we can't even implement with our own technology (or technology skills), even though we don't even know if anyone would use it or if it would provide any real value whatsoever - yes - let's - let's run right down the path to more spending and development hell because why not - what else are we going to do to fill the time 'til summer vacation?

Don't get me wrong - I love technology. I love widgets. But I wouldn't dump hundreds of thousands of dollars into widget development unless I knew the investment might be worthwhile. What I can't understand is why isn't anyone asking for data and research to support such projects?

Is it because it's not their own money that our business partners don't seem to give a shit about how much is wasted by poor planning and a lack of research? If the research is there, just tell me and I'll shut up.

Wouldn't it be better to be strategic and not just do what everyone else is doing, but do something even better? I probably should just shut up anyway.

Tee Em Eye

thanks istockphoto!

This morning at work I happened to walk down the hallway that passes the door into the men's room, as I've done countless times because it's a main route back to my desk.

I had the misfortune today of arriving near the men's room door just as a coworker in another group was about to go in, carrying a section of newspaper in his hand. I may not have noticed what was in his hand if he hadn't stopped to say hello as I passed by.

Question: If you know you're on your way into the men's room to mail a package, so-to-speak, why would you stop and say hello to anyone? Wouldn't it seem more appropriate to avoid all eye contact and simply proceed into the post office and take care of your business without involving anyone else?

I'm at work to work - I don't want to know that Bob Smith is headed into the crapper with the Sports page to sit down for a while. If you have to take a section of the paper with you, it's clear you're intending to spend some time in there, and I'd rather not have this information anywhere in my brain.

Not that women are immune to this biological requirement, but I can say I've never, ever seen a woman head into the john with reading material. It seems we aren't as public about what we're intending to do in there.

But I can tell you, there have been some truly disturbing smells in the ladies' room that make me want to loudly ask the offender to please plan around that event so that can be left at home.

We need a new office space with a more thoughtful design around the inevitable need for elimination. I don't want to see people going in and out of the facilities. That should all be down a hallway somewhere else - not on the same aisle with desks where people sit all day.

But whatever - that was the least of my issues with today. Everything seemed fine this morning, then after lunch I came back to a blood-spattered workspace. Someone's head had come clean off her body, spun around several times, then totally exploded all over everything in our area.

There's ongoing trouble with people being absolutely incapable of writing clear requirements, and when it comes back to bite them in the ass that they didn't include critical information, their first response is to blame my group for not psychically sensing this information.

This was all made worse by the fact that the person who supplied the requirements knew full well what was needed and somehow thought we would interpret another requirement to mean this other material would also be produced. How, we've no idea, as we've not yet completed our Miss Cleo Graduate Program in Psychic Requirement Reading and Interpretation.

Then this person had the good sense to escalate this problem to her boss who then slammed our boss who had to come tell us how we were not playing nice with the other kids and we need to keep wiping the asses of other people who can't take responsibility for their projects.

It's amazing that so many people can work at a company and even after lengthy tenures are unable to learn the same things we've been able to learn in just over a year. In short, how to get things done, or how to move a project along through all its required gates. Believe me, it's easy. It's a cake walk if you pay attention to what's going on around you.

But not only that, if people could just learn how to clearly communicate, this debacle would have never happened today. Why is communication so incredibly difficult? Are there special classes you have to take that most people missed? Can they sign up for those classes now? If not, fuck, bust out the stun gun they use on cattle at the slaughterhouse. Let them all sit slumped and drooling on their couches at home and let the rest of us keep moving.

New Work Week

Monday through Wednesday, and that's it. Weekend starts Wednesday night and lasts through Sunday night. I need four days off every week. Every. Week.

Not working from home on Thursday and Friday - those are part of the weekend, as in, Me Time. There's no "work" in weekend. Wend. Keen. Deek. Newk. But no "work."

Here's a question, why is ER still on the air? I thought the big shootout I heard about in last season's finale meant they were all killed. Even the hospital - shot dead.

What are they gonna do next? Put them all in a cruise ship ER with patients infected with smallpox that sails into the perfect storm with terrorists and a bomb on board?

Speaking of bad TV, how jacked is it that Mariski Hardtosay won an emmy and how is it Edie Falco wasn't nominated?

Can't believe they gave a statue to Alan Alda & not the guy who played the conniving, creepy president on 24. That makes no sense at all. Some of these must be charity awards.

First Day Back

Aside from a couple hundred emails to dig through, it was an easy eight. There's a ton of stuff to catch up on - stuff I'd hoped might die a quick death while I was gone so I wouldn't have to return to it. But no. Nothing ever dies there. It drags on and on and on and on and on and on until you give up any hope of anything ever really being done. Ever.

I spoke with someone today who is brand new to a particular process, and as I was describing the general chain of events, she kept asking, "So you'll send that to me using regular email?" I had to ask her what she meant by "regular email" to ensure I wasn't giving her bad instruction in case there was a special email I should be using. She just meant Outlook, or as she put it, "The Outlook."

This particular project was dumped on her right before its usual owner took off for two weeks. There are confusing elements to it, stuff that's never been clearly explained to me in all the time I've been there. It's not her, it's the project and the lack of clear documentation about any given system or process.

You have to know a guy who knows a guy who knows how to get in touch with another guy who will make a call, and in about a month, you'll get some additional info. It may or may not be what you needed.

But whatever. It was mellow. At least I'm not working with these people.

Reset

Maybe it was the Patron last night or the bacon at Sears. Today was weird. I kinda had a breakdown, to borrow the eloquent headline from this week's Onion.

It was all Jeff's fault. He asked me "are you OK?" and sure, I still have my hair and my lungs are working, but my eyes keep leaking.

I rinsed off my mascara with the natural cleansing power of tears and later on went for a nice walk. Had some sorbet. Got some sun. And now I'm planning a vacation. A real vacation. We'll find someone to fill in for me while I'm out so I don't come back to an avalanche of shit.

It's funny when you lose your shit at work. People treat you differently... they talk a little quieter and enunciate very clearly. They refrain from making any large, sudden movements, because at any moment, maybe I'll just start crapping my pants or peeing all over the furniture.

Maybe this is how insanity starts. One day you seem a bit more stressed than usual, laughing & crying simultaneously... and before too long, you're writing your manifesto in your own feces.

Flycatchers

I'm not happy about having a fly or two in the house, but I am enjoying the sound of four little feet landing back on earth after a giant leap into the air to snag a fly.

I love that the little one can't help the urge to hunt the buzzing prey, repeatedly rising from her lounging spot to run them down.

Coming home is the best part of every day. Especially after frustrating emails and being nearly attacked in a meeting for not being a mind reader. Had the person taken five minutes to have a conversation with me early on, all would have been handled in a calm, mutually-agreeable fashion.

Instead, I got to hear how what I provided wasn't at all what was expected, and how she was frustrated at having been over this four times already. Not with me, unfortunately, because if she'd spoken with me, it may have prevented her panties from being sucked up into her colon along with her head.

She seems to be forgetting that this project in particular has the entire company in brand new territory, and because it's not been well planned or thoroughly researched, we all have to work together to move forward, because no one has the script.

Thanks for the support. Thanks for thinking I hold the mystical key and am the one person who has all the answers. It's flattering, but you're really fricking off base.

Just a few minutes into the meeting, all I could think about was How can I get the hell out of here, NOW? It's so goddamn unpleasant.

All we do all day is fight. Fire fight, fight for the right thing, fight for someone to please make a decision, fight for time. Nothing is ever easy.

Today I tried to channel Charlie Sheen's character in Ferris Bueller - to not focus on what's happening or the people around me, but instead on myself & my own attitude. I tried. I really tried. By lunchtime the frustration took over. It's so overwhelming, it becomes impossible to put it out of your mind.

As a wise person said today, Tomorrow is another day.

Funday's Over

Very sad the weekend is over. Sad it's already mid-July and summer will be over in a blink. I hate the cold and hate the gray. I can't bear the thought of seeing days like today shelved for another year. I love perpetual summer.


Took a great ride today on many paths & trails - couldn't have been a more beautiful day.


Last night we enjoyed a delightful tasting at Hangar 1. Some of the best vodka I've tasted. Fuck the goose - we like this better and it's local. The people there are nice. They seem to love what they do for a living. Imagine that.


We kicked off the weekend with a nice breakfast out. Found a place with few fools and plenty of booths. Might become our regular spot, since every time we eat at Ole's my stomach hurts afterward, yet every weekend there's a stupid long line to get into that grease hole.

I expect it'll be a shitty week, starting with a redonkulous 3-hour meeting tomorrow morning. About what, I could not begin to tell you. But I can tell you it's going to be a giant waste of time with stacks of lame powerpoint slides.

Our group is imploding yet again. And if they don't get me out of the producer role soon, I'm not sure how much longer I can hold on. I want to stay. I want to stick it out & move on when I have things a bit more settled. But I'm not sure it'll work out that way.

I'm angry pretty much all the time now. All the shit that was lurking beneath the surface boiled over last week. It'll pass, but not right away. I want to go back & start over.

Left Early

Today I got up from my desk at 4:30, announced I was going home and I left. Everyone said a cheerful "goodnight" and I was out the door.

It was the first night in weeks I didn't stay late or go straight home to my laptop to catch up on two jobs. It felt wonderful.

Moments after leaving the building I was on an uncrowded train going home in bright daylight. After arriving home I curled up on the couch to finish my book with the Tour de France on the TV in the background.

It was great to be home so early in the day, but it won't be easy going back in the morning. I feel like curling up in bed to sleep for a month. After a good long cry.