Category: drama

For the birds

This being a grown up thing is really for the birds.

I mean, sure, being an adult has its benefits. Cookies and ice cream and beer for dinner, for example. Yeah.

I don’t have to ask permission to buy a candy in the checkout line.

Disposable income.

I can tie my own shoes.

No homework.

Yeah.

But being a grown up means getting up every morning to go to work.

Trying hard to “get ahead”. Get that better job. Be a better employee. Get paid more. More respect.

Sleepless nights worrying about getting that project done, or the political implications of a decision.

No summer vacation. Of if you get one, it’s just a week long. Ugh.

The reason for my lament today is that we’ve entered the performance review stage at work. Meaning I have to write up and rate my team for the year.

Now, this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve done this for many years, but it never gets any easier. To reduce the sum total of another human’s work for the year to a percentage number and a couple paragraphs is an agonizing process for me.

Part of what makes me a good manager is the depth of my compassion. But it’s also one of my biggest limitations.

Our company gives out paltry merit raises, and it’s hard to hand out a tiny raise for a hard year’s work. This year, I have a pretty good boss who is helping me fight the good fight for rate increases. But I still go home a little bit demoralized.

Good thing I can have all those cookies and beer for dinner.

Image via.

Thoughts at less than a week to the "big day"

I promise to get back to regularly scheduled snarkery soon, but I just gotta get through this week.

We are down to less than a week until I get…(holy crap) married.

Here’s the thing, I feel pretty calm. It seems like everyone around me (mostly work folks) desperately want me to display full-blown anxiety. Like my freak out would somehow validate them?

Oh, I’m sure that this calm feeling won’t last through the weekend. We’re down to where the “small stuff” gets sweated. Where you find out if the people you paid a not-insubstantial amount of money will actually step up to the plate.

So far, I’ve managed not to be a bridezilla. Ok, to be fair, I was *prepared* to lose my shizz on Saturday for my latest dress fitting. The folks just don’t seem to be getting it. The seamstress had the audacity to tell me that the top wasn’t too large, I was just “not used to wearing a strapless dress”.

I informed her, in no uncertain terms, that I would NOT be spending my wedding day tugging at my dress. So they fixed it.

On this past Saturday, I was prepared to take the dress home, but for this weird pucker in the seam at my hips. I said “that needs to be fixed” and the lady helping me said “oh no, you just need to smooth it”. I said no, she said smooth. This went on for a while.

After a bit, the owner came over (she hadn’t been privy to the no/smooth conversation) and said “hey, it looks like this fits great…oh, except for THAT” and pointed RIGHT at the pucker-in-contention.

Then she ordered her minions to fix it.

Heh.

No need to bridezilla when the owner of the shop (who puts her name on my dress) can do my dirty work!

And that’s not the half of it…

Am I worried that the lackadaisical new owners of the reception location will not pull it off? Sure. But there is little I can do about it at this point. We have to, as The Good Man says, “play through”.

Will I feel the intensity of the event when, starting Friday, our nearest and dearest start arriving? Sure. Family always ups the ante.

But included in those nearest and dearest are my best friend and my two goddaughters. For how ever worried I could be, I can look into the faces of my two baby girls and smile. Because being with them is what matters. And having my best friend to hold my hand. Oh, and having her help me into my bustier and Spanx.

I already promised her I’d try not to be too sweaty. I’m a real good friend, huh?

I’m not going to jinx myself by saying “oh everything is perfect!!” It can’t be.

But The Good Man and me…we’ll just play through.

It’s the foundation of our relationship.

And at the end of the day, if I end up married to him, then the day was a rousing success. No matter what else happens.

Oh..and cake! That always helps…

My lunch pal

I have a friend at work who, most days, I go to lunch with. Now, when I say “go to lunch” I should probably clarify.

She and I go together to the cafeteria onsite to grab some food that we take back to our respective desks. There at the desks, we eat and work, thus maximizing our time. You’d be surprised how busy noontime can be, seeing as we have main offices two time zones ahead…two o’clock there seems like a nice time for a meeting. Ugh.

My pal has worked here for a while, like me, and she and I are at the same level, reporting to the same manager.

We use the time on our walks to seek advice from each other. We talk over management problems. Or just to complain, because our employer inspires that in most of its employees.

She was raised in Ohio by a Steel Magnolia-of-a-mom straight out of the deep South. So that’s given her a certain, uh, colorfulness that is often amusing.

Lunch Pal is having some problems on her team, which means she gets pulled into last minute meetings and closed-door discussions in the office of our boss.

So I end up *waiting* on her until she finishes.

I tried going off for food without her a couple times.

It didn’t go over well.

No, I’m expected to WAIT on her to finish so we can walk over together. Who cares how hungry I am? It’s all about her.

Let’s face it, my friend is really kind of a pain in the ass.

So why am I wasting both bandwidth and pixels on her?

Because she’s on vacation this week!

HOW DARE she not be here?

She may be a pain in the ass, but she’s my pain in the ass.

Never thought I’d miss her…

Quote of the Day

From a high level meeting I attended at work, during which we had an hour long debate about a difficult and political situation regarding budgets (if you haven’t done the corporate thang, then know that nothing gets hackles raised like budget conversations).

At the end of the meeting, the Financial Analyst said to the Senior Director,

“So, do I make it so?”

“No.” He replied, sternly. “Make it subtle.”

I had to write it down, it was just so good.

Don’t let the door hitcha on the way out

So Friday May 29, 2009 is the end of another era in the history of The Tonight Show.

Jay Leno breathes his last as host.

And to that I have to say…it’s about damn time.

I’ve not ever really been a fan of Leno and really wasn’t into it when he took over the show. But against my own negative opinion, he’s done his schtick and done it successfully for the past sixteen years.

But in my mind, he’ll never be the king of late night that Carson was.

And I wonder if his departure will be anywhere near as classy?

Remember Bette Midler’s appearance on the second to last Carson show? Memorable. She made Carson cry…I was watching that night.

In case you don’t remember or are too young, YouTube is there to pick us up.

Unsure that Conan will do much to fill the shoes of Carson, or even Leno.

Hard to watch. So I won’t.

Ah well, watching that vid brought back some happy memories. Ah the magic of YouTube.

If you are a GenX’er and REALLY want to sashay down memory lane, try out this one…link love to NewMexiKen for this voyage in the wayback machine.