Day of the Ditch

Many a corporate days are spent by so many daydreaming portions of their eight hours away. Thoughts of carelessly frolicking through fields of green, sailing towards a sunset on a foreign sea, and soaking in the warmth and caress of the sun free one’s soul for that instance in time. We have all done it. We have all caught ourselves somewhere other than on the spreadsheet in front of our faces from time to time. We learned this skill in K-12, practiced it in college, and have now perfected the art of daydreaming. You spend your days in your often times unfulfilling desk jobs entombed in the four walls that house you in order to pay for your car that is destroying the atmosphere, for the mortgage on the home for which you overextended yourself, and for the retirement account you hope to fill enough to avoid eating cat food in your old age if you make it that far without dropping dead at 55 of a coronary. There must be a reason so many of us do this for so many years of our lives. Even with this highly active imagination I possess, I still can’t figure out why.

Today was a different day for me. Today, I just said “No.” Today was the Day of the Ditch.

After one commits fully to the Call-In, one must then reason the guilt away unless you are so far gone you just can’t possibly give a shit. I am not that miserable yet, nor do I ever plan to be. After my Call-In, I decided to do my reasoning the proper way…from the warmth of my fluffy bed that Evil Work pries me away from each weekday with the assistance of it’s Alarm Clock Henchman. The first wonderful thing I did was to disarm the evil little fucking henchman and silence that bastard with a smile on my face. The next item on my non-agenda was to figure out if I wanted to go back to sleep or engage in something fun. It was time for some fun since I wanted to suck the marrow from this glorious feast of a day and not let anything pass me by.

Today, I felt the warmth of my hazelnut coffee, freshly brewed from my home coffee maker, pass my lips and warm my insides. I smelled the freshness of the crisp Fall morning at 9am from the mass of land in between the Oceanside Harbor and the Pacific Ocean. I tasted the salty air as I ran freely with my dog, stopping as either of us wished, to explore a dock or chase a pelican. I saw an old friend over the relaxing adventure of a B-52 Coffee while appreciating the view of freedom atop an ocean front restaurant. I listened to the stories of a seasoned fisherman, the likes of which I would have never seen had I been trapped in my box at work. I made sure this day was one to remember.

Vacations are harder than I remember.

I created an entire list of things to do - it’s already Tuesday and I haven’t even made a dent! I woke up early this morning determined to conquer my laziness. I made coffee, took a shower and then sat down for a quick peek at my favorite blogs (I couldn’t help it). The next thing I know I have spent the last hour indulging in the latest and greatest from the Glamour blog team (Come on! Glamour blogs?? What the F is wrong with me?)! But it was then I realized that it didn’t matter – I’m on vacation! I don’t have to stick to schedules or arrange To-Do lists. For the next week I am free to wake up late, read mindless blogs for hours, and do crap load of nothing. I don’t even need to drink coffee in the morning. Of course, there is a whole lot I do want spend my time doing but I will not be getting upset if I don’t stick to it. Horary for epiphanies!

Quitting a job is like sex on a first date

Quitting a job is like sex on a first date. It causes strange emotions: a mixture of excitement, dread and anxiety. An adrenaline rush followed by a huge sense of relief.

There is also a certain process; courting your boss, so to speak. You draft a resignation letter, schedule a meeting to present your letter, and then, well, present your letter.

Of course, after doing the deed, there is always a reaction: good, neutral, or bad. The boss with the good reaction provides a counter offer and is the girl who gives you her number (her real number). The boss with the neutral reaction provides you with a box and tight lipped good luck, this boss is the slut who called you Bob when your name is Alex. The boss with the bad reaction is the one who escorts you out of the building without allowing for your full two weeks to expire, this boss is the girl you called Bob when her name is Alex.

Corporate Narcolepsy

I'm seriously beginning to wonder if narcolepsy can be an acquired syndrome caused by one's own horrifically boring work environment, rather than just a genetic neurological condition. As of late, my intermittent workday dyssomnia has begun to concern me. I will be staring at my computer trying to piece together mundane items at work and the next thing I know, I face plant into my laptop keyboard with a complete feeling of bliss as though it were as soft and comforting as my pillow at home. I've recently learned to close my eyes and nap with my head still relatively balanced on my shoulders while sitting in a working position behind my desk, almost appearing to be adamantly reading some important document about whatever on my computer. This camouflaged napping style helps avoid those keyboard workplace injuries when the forehead slams and dislodges the "j" and "k" keys and lodges them into your eyeball.

Regardless of whether there is medically proven evidence to back my hypothesis that work causes narcolepsy, I still plan on using it as a valid excuse for that inevitable day I wake from my serene desk nap and find my boss leering at me with disdainful eyes.

Caffeine: The world's most popular drug

Damn Starbucks. I am addicted and the store front, green in all its glory, is consistently staring me in the face. The front door flirtatiously persuading me to walk through with woman like sex appeal. The windows, welcoming and warm, give the feeling of being home for the holidays. I sit here at my work desk, innocent - puppy eyes in tow, begging for an ounce of relief, a ten minute break to relax from a stressful day in the comfort of this bistro's black iron patio chairs.

Fast forward 30 minutes: Coffee...2 shots...espresso...Next thing I know, eight hours of work is done and I'm furiously cleaning my desk with Windex. Legal crack for sale, I swear.

Part 2: Drawbacks of working from home

It’s only fair - if you highlight the good you must highlight the bad. After racking my brain for the last hour, I was able to create five drawbacks to working from home (Surprising, I know). Follow up to: Part 1: Luxuries of a home office.

Top Five Drawbacks:

1. Co-worker animosity. I realize it is unfair when only a select few are able to work from home and that it is not me they hate, but the system. They were not born with nor did they learn the proper negotiation skills required to land such a sweet deal.

2. Connectivity Issues. VPN, Remote Desktop Connection, LAN, Wireless Internet – words that should only be used space shuttle are the lifeline to my home office. However, while technology advances our society in many ways, it can also be the most frustrating obstacle. This could be the reason there is now an official system administrator appreciation day (The last Friday in July, if you were wondering).

3. Distractions. By far the number one drawback AND the number one benefit. There are so many excuses one can use to avoid putting in a full 8 hours when the work load is low. My dog needs a run. The living room needs cleaning. The beach chair is empty. The beer is cold.

4. Responsibility. With all of the distractions one may face, comes more responsibility. Effective time Management, increased work flow, ability to meet deadlines, and efficient communication skills are all needed. Lack of any attribute listed above could lead to a full time in office position, or worse, no position at all.

5. Exclusion from Free Friday Bagels. It’s a tradition, each Friday free bagels are laid out nicely in the break room complete with various flavors of cream cheese and jams. This platter of greatness is truly the epitome of perfection.

Part 1: Luxuries of a home office

True and indistinguishable luck is scoring a job which will allow you to work from home; at least most of the time. This instantaneously increases quality of life by ten thousand points.

Top five perks:

1. The attire. Forgo suites and heels, welcome PJ’s and slippers. This morning’s choice was an old tank top and some running shorts. No shoes - I was feeling spunky.

2. Fresh home made coffee vs. the burnt and some what odd smelling sludge served in the break room. It is remarkable - the difference between freshly ground beans and month old stale grounds. The creamer…ah the creamer…which, surprisingly, is still in the refrigerator after an entire week. It has not been stolen by various co-workers who seem to think the break room refrigerator is a convenience store sampling.

3. Delays, or keeps to minimum, awkward occurrences of filler conversation. Filler conversation includes topics like, “How was your weekend?” I ask to avoid awkward silence not because I care how hot it was when you mowed your lawn or how wasted you were at your buddy’s house party. Although, I do have to entertain some type of presence in the office during the week, the strategy is to make appearances short and towards the middle of the week. Mid-week, most full time employees have already forgotten the luxuries of the prior weekend or are too anxious for the next one to arrive. In either case, they relinquish weekend conversation because they just can not handle it.

4. Clean and fresh kitchen, perfect for gourmet lunch preparation vs. the break room kitchen and a small, boxed Lean Cuisine. The break room, which consistently smells like moldy cheese and bacon, is resistant to all efforts of sterilization including but not limited to: an intense amount of scrubbing and pure undiluted bleach. The only after effect of this is the break room now smells of moldy cheese, bacon, and pure undiluted bleach.

5. The actual outdoor office vs. the illusion of an outdoor office. While corner offices with large ocean views have their appeal to the average worker bee, I prefer a more ballsy approach, an approach which does not include one flicker of florescent lighting. In my out door office there are no windows, file folders, or land lines. My outdoor office has 4 essential pieces: a laptop, a cell phone, a beach chair, and a pina colada (tiny umbrella optional).

Next post - Part 2: Drawbacks of working from home.

The Work Day Morning Hangover

The noise blaring in my ear gets painfully louder with each passing second. It is rhythmically timed separated by what I visualize as hammers hitting huge bells coinciding with the ticking of a second hand on a clock. This consistent hell has finally motivated me to action. As I peel my eyes open, I realize my next move is to roll over and stem this noise at its source. I fumble gracefully toward this small black mechanical object. It’s hard to believe something so small can make such an earth shattering noise at 7am. After a few unsuccessful attempts to hit the relief button on this small box, I make contact and depress the snooze button successfully. (Repeat this scene five more times)

I don’t think anything is more dreadful than a work day morning hangover.

Just prior to this rude awakening, I was having dreams of water. Not swimming or floating, but actually grabbing and chugging glasses of water because my thirst was so dire I felt like I was lost in the Mojave for days. I sit up in bed wondering where I had left my brain from the previous evening. I look around my apartment and see a ridiculous mess of tortilla chips, strewn clothes, and ant insecticide. What in the hell happened in this place last night? Oh well…no time to figure that out now. I was almost late for work.

After a comical hour of trying to get myself cleaned up and presentable for my job, I managed to get to my car and filter myself into the morning commute with all the other good people of California trying to earn their slice of the American pie. I have to turn my radio up in order to get adrenaline running through my veins to jump start my brain. It feels as though there is something missing where my head should be. The synapses are refusing to fire.

I finally get to work and realize I must still be a certain level of intoxicated. This is good. God forbid I have to roll into work with what will potentially be a huge fucking hangover by noon. At least I will appear perky even though in reality its remnants of the evening past. Damn! I forgot about the 9am meeting. Okay…be cool. Lay low and keep your mouth shut. This tends to work best in situations such as this. Since this is a conference call meeting with someone sharing their computer screen via the Internet, this will be much smoother than an in person meeting. God I love technology.

I have five minutes until the meeting and I have the coffee walk and brew timed to the second. It takes 3 ½ minute to walk to the make-shift cafeteria (aka: converted closet), brew the single coffee serving, stir, and make it back to my office, all assuming there is no coffee traffic. That throws it all off. You could be trapped for several minutes which would call for you to abort the coffee mission and run a serious risk of a narcoleptic-type occurrence during the meeting.

Success! No traffic, no sleepy.

With all said and done, I made it through another hung over morning in the trenches of corporate warfare.

Styrofoam Cups and Buzz Words

Today I am environmentally aware. Instead of using 40 Styrofoam cups and bowls which are provided to me each day in the break room of my corporate company, I have opted to bring my own ceramic coffee cup and a bowl. Not only am I doing a little to save the environment but I am also decreasing my chances of cancer, or so I am told. However, it seems like these days everything causes cancer or some type of fatal health problem – certain types of gum, bananas, Splenda. This is what MSNBC tells me anyway. Health might not be their best face, however, thank God for the live video feeds on Anna Nicole which have been contributing to MANY wasted billable hours at the office.

By the way, I officially loathe the word proprietary. As soon as it rolls off the lips of anyone wearing a suite, a feeling starts in the pit of my stomach like the acid is avalanching backwards up my esophagus. The overuse of certain “buzz words” is sickening and if you can not or will not spend time expanding your own vocabulary you shouldn’t be allowed to use the word proprietary, or any other word over 2 syllables for that matter. Now I feel better, I am going to go back to my Marvin Gaye, cold milk, and 1 million row excel sheets which Microsoft had the thoughtfulness to bestow.

My Florescent Tan

There is always time to blog at work. It is similar to taking a mini vacation except there are no little umbrellas in my coffee, the light on my face is cold and florescent not warm and relaxing, instead of peaceful waves I hear papers shuffling and the insistent ringing of the telephone replaces the annoying squawk of seagulls. As I think of all the places I would rather be, I stare at last years beach calendar that is still hanging in my cube...oh well at least my chair isn’t leaving plastic marks on my sunburned ass…

Laptop Cafeteria

My favorite is that we don't have a lunch room, much less a kitchen even in our office building. I love the fact that as I sit here eating my Chipotle steak salad over my laptop computer as I work that I consistently drop samples of my daily lunch into the sad little spaces between the keys on my computer keyboard. I turned it upside down last week just to see what lovely surprises I'd get and I found such treasures as sesame seeds from bagels past, rice from those always tasty Roberto burritos, and morsels of lettuce clumps of which I have no idea how they made it through those cracks.

Anyway, I long for the day I can have an area designated specifically for eating food, removing me from my computer for at least a few minutes and relieving my office from the stench of cafeteria. One can only wish.