Category Archives: Work

Fayetteville, Lemon Moment, Personal, Work

If

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A huge bolt of lightning shook the neighborhood shortly before 1:30 a.m. Even though it’s rare for me, I had miraculously fallen back to sleep after waking up around midnight. I was dreaming so intensely that the lightning strike seemed to have followed me out of the dream. I’m certain that one part of the dream resulted from a conversation I had yesterday when I explained that I track how many days old I am.

It’s rare for me to remember my dreams vividly. Since my sleep pattern switched a few years ago, my brain retreats to a dead place that is more akin to hibernation than sleep.

Today is my first day off work all year. It didn’t occur to me that this was the case until late last week. I decided I would make the final decision as to whether I would work when I woke up this morning. And that if I didn’t go in, I would take a ridiculously long walk. I had to wait for the storm front the mostly move away. For those of you who weren’t up at 1:30, the lightning show was amazing.

I work with several hard workers who don’t get to enjoy the incredible benefit of paid time off. Some of them are losing almost a couple of hundred dollars per pay period because we lose the hours once we are capped out at the maximum. All of us appreciate that we work for an employer with good benefits. But all of us feel the cringe of being put in a situation where we can’t enjoy it because of understaffing. Whether I should say that or not is another issue. But everyone knows that burnout is unsafe for us as individuals and as workers. 

Perhaps they grind of work is training for the upcoming economic mess. There is no doubt it is coming and its tendrils will affect all but a few of us. I can picture my grandma saying, “there ain’t no belt tightening when someone has taken your belt.”

My long walk was beautiful. The strange misty glow of the early morning-late night after rain lights. The smell from the rain and the clingng heat. The empty roads that I walked down the middle of. A family of raccoons that complained as I unknowingly walked by. An unseen young woman on one of the balconies of the beautiful modern apartments flanking Gregg, as she beautifully and melodically sang a song I wasn’t familiar with, and a song probably unwelcome to the ears of the other residents. (But for me, as an accidental audience, it was perfect.) The long stretches of both hill and road. The night time summer sky billowing with retreating white clouds. The occasional person on a scooter; some of them involuntarily participating in the morning. 

I hated giving up ownership of the streets. Leaving the unobserved and frozen in time houses with all the residents tucked away inside. 

It’s hard to explain how rounding a corner and seeing strange orange glow of a section of road brings on the same feelings that “Something Wicked This Way Comes,” or “Stranger Things ” It’s just a stretch of road illuminated by optical illusions. But you weren’t there when I looked to my left and saw a ground light being temporarily blocked by a cat who was creeping along the edge of the driveway. It was accidental synchronicity and caused the hair on my arms to stand. I stopped to take a picture of the light. But that’s all it is. People sound a little off when they try to express how such little moments are entirely different when they are experienced. 

The same is true for most of us when we listen to someone describe their dream. The narrative loses the immersive magic that held the storyteller captive while they were experiencing it. 

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(I added the word death to the mailbox as a joke…)

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The dream:

Instead of a tombstone, the grave was marked by a tall crystal spire. Somehow, I knew that it wasn’t an actual grave and that inside whatever what was in the ground was nothing more than a DNA sample. 

The sun peeking through the trees was orange red and seemed off in a way I couldn’t precisely explain. 

Even the air felt thin and reprocessed. 

The dash of the dates didn’t initially make sense: “1967-23,666.” Then I realized whoever designed it knew about my penchant to calculate my age based on the number of days instead of years. 

Turning my head, I saw that four people stood behind me. Each of them carried a vial of colored sand. The sand shown brilliantly, like ground diamonds. 

They didn’t speak English but I understood them. 

“Does anyone have anything they would like to say?” I couldn’t see who voiced the words. 

“No. I think he said it all before he left.”

As I turned my head again, the four people moved closer. I didn’t step away. They passed through me as they approached the spire. I felt like I had become mist.

Each of them opened their tiny vials and poured the contents into a almost invisible seam about halfway up the spiral. Flashes of almost every color began washing over the grass around them. 

They disappeared as the sky became dark, like a sped up movie traversing time. As I watched the sun slide down the sky, my field of vision collapsed into a single dot of rainbow colored light and then disappeared. 

…

Music, New Word, Personal, Work

This Place (A New Song)

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This Place
I threw down the manual and kicked over my chair
one more set of numbers might murder my will to live
ain’t got another damned day to give

this place
this place
never had any grace

every second measured, each move under evaluation
human life reduced to numbers to the left of zero
ain’t got another damned hour to give

this place
this place
never had any grace

each morning takes a little corner of my mind
listening to contradictory and meaningless instruction
ain’t got another damned minute to give

this place
this place
never had any grace

if I don’t break free and surrender from this place
even the idea of me might dry up and blow away
might not have another damned second to live

this place
this place
never had any grace

(screams)
I’m out of here!

Humor, Work

π

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“Like a small man at a urinal, I’m going to have to stay on my toes.”

A paraphrased joke from Leslie Niellsen. He should be my spirit animal for the day and for the week.

I’ve been practicing the face that made him famous.

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Behavior, Government, Justice, Opinion, Social Rules, Work

Act Your (W)age

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Act Your Wage

A friend showed me a meme with this clever turn of phrase. It was in reference to the coworker we all have no matter where we work, the one who acts as if they are in charge. If you work for an organization, it’s a 100% certainty that you have at least one such coworker. Just like you undoubtedly have one that is constantly telling you how busy they are as they stand nearby with a cup of coffee in their hand.

But like all clever phrases, this one started my mind churning. We’ve all heard of quiet quitting by now.

I get paid well for my job, given the requirements. It’s physically tough at times, but my wage is aligned with the principles of fairness. The benefits I enjoy go well beyond what many receive for doing really tough jobs.

But like most people, I know a lot of people who aren’t being paid for the amount of work they do. Many of them are hardwired to do good work and to go above and beyond regardless of the wage they are earning.

I often wonder what the capitalist system would look like if everyone suddenly realized that they should act their wage. The wage they are being paid should reflect their contribution and value. That’s the theory anyway.

I feel even more strongly about this regarding people who are paid the legal minimum. Or people in the service industry being taken advantage of. The tip wage is a nasty anachronism that needs to be eliminated.

Many people have misguided ideas about the effects of higher wages on consumer prices. Even so, it’s hard to reconcile justifying such low wages based on the alleged potential consequence of higher prices. I won’t cite the numerous examples and studies that prove it’s a myth. Because people only acknowledge what already aligns with their belief system. It’s one of the many reasons I prefer to use the term living wage. All of those difficult jobs that aren’t paid sufficiently are required to keep the businesses running. We all enjoy the consequences of lower prices. All too often we do it at the expense of the people at the bottom of the pay range. Many people never have to confront the struggle of those who work hard but know that they’ll likely never escape the endless cycle of indebtedness. If you say, well, they can improve their lives. Although that’s true, we are still going to need people working the positions that others move past in such a scenario.

I look at all of these issues from a liberal viewpoint. But also a practical one. At the center of all these ideas we have are people who deserve better opportunities. I despise the system that allows anything less than a living wage. What constitutes a living wage is up for debate. What’s not on the table for discussion is that it is unethical to me that we willingly look the other way for a big segment of society. I don’t look down on anyone working fast food or cleaning the floors. All of those jobs are necessary for us to enjoy the goods and services they help provide.

Several years ago, there was a movie titled A Day Without a Mexican. It comes to mind when I think about people working for less than a living wage. I imagine a world wherein everyone making less than what is required just to stay even wakes up and refuses to participate in the rigged system.

A famous comedian once said that minimum wage is proof that many businesses would pay you less if they could. And history rubber stamps this idea by demonstrating that people lose sight of the fact that we’re supposed to be our brother’s keeper even in the pursuit of commerce or profit. For those who follow history, even the way we elect our president is a result of a segment of society insisting that enslaving people was justified based on the economic outcome.

I wonder what it might be like if those who are not being paid a living wage followed the principle of Act Your Wage.

It’s not our imagination that doom spending and disengaging from the pursuit of our alleged American dream is accelerating.

I find it hard to judge anyone who resents working hard and being unable to stay caught up. And if you tell me that people will take advantage if we put our hand out to help, my answer is, so what. You don’t fail to reward those who work hard by punishing everyone. The system is rigged in favor of those who already have more than their share.

In the same way that we could feed everyone in the world if we focused our priorities and resources, we could also easily ensure everyone has a slice of the so-called American dream. It’s not a zero-sum game.

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Humor, Work

Ways To Happiness, Monday X Edition

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  1. Drink water for your body. You can also use it for an exorcism.
  2. Drink coffee for your sanity and vodka for the safety of your coworkers.
  3. Mind your own business.
  4. Remove sharp objects from pockets in case of arrest.
  5. Give hugs even when you’d rather give karate chops.
  6. Smile. Show your fangs.
  7. Don’t open restraining orders until 6 p.m.
  8. Laugh often. Especially when reading emails or talking to your boss.
  9. If people complain to you, send them an invoice.
  10. Leave a toothbrush hanging from your mouth if you want to be left alone.
  11. Monday is a gift that you can’t return.
  12. Mondays are 1/7th of your life. That’s 26% if you didn’t spend enough time learning.
  13. Always carry a fork. If someone bugs you at work, pull it out and give thanks for the meal you are about to receive.
  14. If you get upset, whisper. It’s much scarier than shouting. Doubly so if you turn off the lights before you do so.
  15. Keep a good work friend close by. It reduces your chances of a bear attack by 50%.
  16. Don’t battle craziness with brilliance. Nonsense is more effective and always debatable.
  17. If you have gas, don’t hold it in. Instead, shout, “Now With Gas Power!”
  18. If you want a snack, spend a dollar. If you want all the snacks, buy a brick.
  19. There will always be more work. There won’t always be more time.
  20. No matter what your job is, don’t forget that all of us are looking for a way to be happy without drowning. Don’t throw both ends of the rope if we’re in the water.
  21. Use the stairs for exercise and the elevator for gossip.
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Lemon Moment, Personal, Work

Momentary

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Someone pulled a me on me today. To say that work has been a feat of athletics in the last few days is an understatement, right up there with mentioning that lightning wakes you up. I was hurrying back into the building and someone stopped me to talk. 

It wasn’t one of those polite conversations or one filled with superficial exchanges. 

To say that it was probably exactly what I needed is another understatement. He offered his personal insight about one aspect of me and my life. Where it told with any more authenticity, the air might have been permeated with static.

Though I was past due back in the mayhem of my job, I stood outside in the chill weather and listened to him. We exchanged more words today than we had in the sum total of our being acquaintances. 

I learned an awful lot about him, both through words spoken, and words not uttered. 

Whatever idea I had of him shifted from a casual one to a complex astonishment that someone with so much story had been right in front of me for a long time. 

Though I was tardy in my return, I would welcome such a conversation each day to remind me that people are much more than they seem and that most of the time we don’t make the effort to get beyond the surface of our interactions. 

That he approached me changed the tenor of the day for me. The hell of work was still upon me. But I got a reminder of what life and conversation can and should be like if someone reaches out and creates the opportunity.

PS I took a picture of my view, using one of my beautiful hanging prisms on the landing. Considerate it a beleaguered metaphorical attempt to reveal the filter that each of us carries inside our head as we walk around the world.

Love , X

Animals, Behavior, Personal, Psychology, Work

Subversive

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This isn’t a vaguepost. It’s an observation about how I interact with the world, which evidently runs afoul of many people’s attitudes. We need a ‘pass’ sometimes, wherein we can just stand and shout, “WTF, dude? Explain this to me.” Sometimes, the person in question might apologize and say, “I needed to get my entire foot in my mouth. I am so sorry. That was stupid and petty of me.” People are going to misbehave, have a bad day, or just suffer the same affliction of quickness and not thinking twice that I do. If we did have a ‘pass’ option, at least we’d know if they react angrily that we aren’t dealing with someone interested in communicating authentically. Ain’t nobody got time for that, much less the sanity of long-term exposure.

We can’t know someone’s intentions most of the time. That’s why it’s more important to observe behavior rather than words. But there are times when “nothing” actually happens, but someone has consciously or unintentionally demonstrated a horrific outlook. In those cases, words have significant power. Last week, I heard a story about an example of this. Anger flared inside me righteously and briefly. The person being treated poorly and demeaned will never know about it. But I do. And I’m stuck with the knowledge, knowing that the person and people involved revealed a sliver of the “real’ them in their behavior. It wasn’t mere pettiness. It was hostility on a basic level. They pulled back the veneer and let their mask slip. Witnessing or knowing such an attitude is inside a person fundamentally shifts my ability to trust such people. This is so much of the reason that I have lingering problems with people I know to be racists. If they gossip to you, they’ll gossip about you. If they treat others with subversive hostility, they’ll do the same to you. It’s just a question of when. Most prejudice stems from the false idea of superiority. Superior arrogance lends itself to a lot of rationalization regarding behavior. In most cases, we never hear about it because they recognize that such behavior or words are reprehensible. They conceal and camouflage the “real’ them. I’d rather deal with outright hostility in most cases. You can avoid a snake in the open field or when it announces its presence; the ones hiding in the grass at your feet mostly can’t be avoided.

Love, X
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PS That’s my cat judging me for not kicking the heat up to maximum. He ain’t 7 feet off the ground for the view.

Business, Humor, Opinion, Work

Superhero For Mockery

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“Put your hands up. This is a mockery.”

We need a superhero with this famous tagline phrase.

He swoops in at the very moment someone sends us a CYA email, one that probably starts with the passive-aggressive “per my last email.”

Or when management blames us for failing to complete a 9,000-item checklist with staff better suited to boil water.

Let’s not forget in-service or education, the kind that includes things we don’t need to know (or we’d already know it), where the goal is to get through as quickly as possible without succumbing to insanity as our fingers click keys faster than a cocaine-fueled chipmunk.

We definitely need this superhero when we have a malingerer. The ones with apparently infinite time to tell us stories, usually punctuated by, “I am SO busy.” All they’ll feel is the splash of the water balloon, right after they feel something press into the small of their back.

When we hear the phrase, “We’re family.” Lord knows that when we’re with family at Thanksgiving, most of us are calculating how quickly we can stuff Uncle Larry and his opinions into the garage deep freezer. It’s best to avoid that phrase at work.

He’d dramatically run into the meeting, the could-have-been-an-email kind, and force us to put our hands up and admit no one knows why we’re in a budget crisis yet spending thousands on a gathering to consume bad pastry products and pray that we might be drinking poisoned coffee.

My superhero would have the elements of Terry Tate, Office Linebacker, armed with only scathing sarcasm, eye-rolls, and water balloons to lob at the offenders upon discovery.

Lastly, my superhero would tell us jokes until we laughed. Even if takes ninety-seven jokes to do so. And to remind us that work is just work, not a mission to save mankind or fool ourselves into getting our identity mixed up with commerce-driven endeavors.

A lot of work is Greek tragedy, at least to those wrapped up in it. Look at how all those turned out.

Take a step back. Lighten up. Do your job well. But not so much that you can’t appreciate the farce of sacrificing your well-being for a position that will be refilled faster than a manager’s coffee cup.

And if you forget? My superhero will be there when you least expect it.

“Put your hands up! This is a mockery!”

Love, X
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