Worst of 2008

This is my third attempt at this post.  Maybe the third time now will be cathartic… here we go.

I know last year I massively linked to my own stuff – sue me, but I’m being lazy this year (as self-evident with the massive amounts of non-posting the last several months).  No, I won’t be boring you with a blow-by-blow, month-by-month recap.

Without further ado, and in no particular order, the following are some of the biggest trials and challenges and my own self-styled “Worst of 2008.”

- In January I was promoted to an interim director position where I had great successes, but where I was ultimately passed over for an inexperienced, pasty-white Mormon kiss-ass imbecile.  He told me he was Mormon because he divulged that even though I was gay he wanted to get along with me.  He took great pains to express how devout and heterosexual he was.  Did I mention that he thought I’d be training him?  Yeah – that was as likely to happen as me fucking his wife.  This incidence will also rank in the “Best of 2008″ because from this experience, in which I was supposed to suck it up and train the vile fuck-wad (because “no one gets a job handed to them” even if you’re in the job doing it…) yes, this incident motivated me to get my ass out of a toxic environment that I hated.  I still hate the place and hope they get their asses audited and heads to roll.  Yep – I’m feeling some catharsis.

- Through the spring I worked with an insane and dishonest woman.  I think the powers-that-be got a certain voyeuristic pleasure, watching me deal with this twat-monkey because the spineless fucks wouldn’t.  She’s still working there, even though I was told that she’d be gone (or maybe that was the dangling carrot in the hope that I’d stay).  The experience helped me appreciate conflict resolution in other settings.  I’m grateful for that twat-monkey that let me grow – that no matter how unpleasant, nasty, merciless and mean the people are that you may work with, they are still human somewhere in their little shriveled hearts.  I can thank her existence as an example of what not to become.

- Scholastically, I dropped the masters program and haven’t re-enrolled.  Part of me can’t wrap my mind around any more on my plate right now.  Part of me wonders at the need for the title or the program(s).  And the larger part of me is loving the time at home with Scott.

- When I changed jobs, I lost a lot of friends and acquaintances.  Of the dozen of co-workers that I used to hang out with socially, I’ve kept in contact with only a few.  I miss them and I have made efforts to keep in contact, but it’s kind of like putting a condom on a limp dick.  Why the hell put out any energy when they obviously have no interest?  This one will smart for a long time.  Letting go is not graceful or immediate, it’s a slow bleeding of care that turns into apathy and indifference.  Kind of like what I’ve been doing with my own blog.

- Physically, I had some challenges, the highlight being a testicular ultrasound by a female nurse.  Good times, had I been hetero.  The treatment plan for prostatitis was HIGHLY successful.  My knee, which has had issues since I was a wee lad, has been acting up again.  I have been doing more reiki and stretching to compensate – so far so good.

- I turned 40.  I noticed more grey in my beard and on my chest.  The kids in college could be my kids.  Thoughts of fathering a child grow more and more remote. I missed more weeks of going to the gym than going, though we did swim most days throughout the summer.  My six pack feels like a twelve pack. At least Midas was svelte, though if we don’t start walking him he’s gonna be a porker by February.

- I’ve had one hell of a time writing.  I did not finish the novel I started in November for National Novel Writing Month.  This isn’t writer’s block – it’s a blank slate with no motivation to fill it.  I’m working on the motivation and the feeling that when I have a blank notebook… I have nothing to say.  This is the winter of my writing where I wait for my own spring thaw.  I’ll occasionally entertain myself with anatomically correct snow men.

- Prop 8 was a kick in the balls.  I don’t mind Mormons, but Mormonism is pure evil.  I wish that fraud of a church into obscurity and irrelevance, but I do appreciate that they’ve given the LGBT community a very visible face to focus on, get organized, and stop waiting to be loved and accepted.  We will live and love individually, as couples, and as more and more visible communities.

- Did I mention that my blogging in 2008 really sucked?

Consumed

The channel in my brain is doing the “bad employment experiences,” 24/7. I dream about work schtuff in nightmare modes where I’m coding and programming solutions while navigating the social disgraces of co-workers who just happen to have the souls of serial killers. The parts that wake me up usually involve the powers that be that keep trying to lock me in the elevator that keeps going down down down – I know the doors will open up and all the lost finances (and taxpayer expenses) of the past half-century will come crawling at me and latch onto me and leech me dry. It’s bad when your choice of lunch dates consists of grabbing something “to go” with a boss’ boss’ boss who doubles as Hannibal Lecter, or with a new employee who exemplifies everything you hated about Mormonism, including the bad suits.

Round two with potential new (and better!) option is tomorrow morning, 8:00am. Wish me luck, since I’m running out of appendages and extremities to tie in a knot.

**update**  1.25 hour interview where we spent equal parts talking/listening.  My judgment could be wrong, but it seemed he was excited about the possibility of me working with him.  Peers, not boss/subordinate.  He’s forwarding his recommendation and notes from the interview to the two partners of the business.  I thought the time-line would be next week – oh no, he said, they move fast.  One of them will be calling me tomorrow or Thursday.  If that goes well, a portion of the conversation will be on how to break the news to my boss, since the main concern is that it be known that I approached them (officially) and that they are not actively (which means “passively” could be an option) trying to recruit me.

My mind’s mush, since I had a massage tonight and it was awesome and I had a late dinner and I’m thinking about having something with vodka and I really need to sit down with the two books that came in the mail today, but alas, the call of the blog is much stronger.  Onwards, to a post.

Nibbles

My family often went camping and fishing during the summers. My first fishing pole was a Fisher Price version – I would have been about three. As I got older, I graduated to a “real” pole, one crafted with increasingly smaller pieces of bamboo past the handle that fit together in metal sockets. There was no reel, only a line of about twenty feet max and the rod. I was content to fling the line into the water and make overlapping rings in the waves with nothing on the hook. From time to time my father would call out to check for a nibble. I was standing on the edge of a lake when something did latch onto the hook and pulled, hard. The rod flew out of my hands and I cried out as the pole went into the lake, floating and bobbing along since it was mostly a wooden rod. My father, at my side, laughed and told me not to worry. He cast out with his line towards the rod, reeled in the line, and cast out again. By god, he had caught my pole with his line and he reeled it in. On the end of my line was a foot-long catfish. He looked quite proud of my feat of catching a fish without bait.

Scott does this one thing where he grabs my arm, neck or earlobe and nibbles four or five times. It catches me off guard and sends frenetic energy through my body; I’ll spastically grab him and hug him and bite him back, usually on his shoulder while he’s giggling the whole time. There is nothing like the mischievous light in my man’s eyes.

I was in a foul mood yesterday. I know that my work-attitude is the pits right now, and it’s not helpful when people tell me to chill and “just go to work and do your job” when the last thing I want to do is be there. If I was less responsible, I would have quit already and would be making lattés at Starbucks (foam or no foam?). On my way to work this morning, I decided to focus and “just do my job.” I wore headphones through most the day and I didn’t join in the reindeer games. I was surprised by a phone call from a prior client who wanted me to call their associate about an opportunity. There are some potential past/present client conflicts, but the job description has my name on it. I nibbled and I called. The hurry up and wait game begins again.

Full Plate

Work was insane last week, not due to the workload, but due to a very badly timed conversation that my boss’ boss sprung on me mid-day Wednesday. Nothing wrecks a week or screams ‘demoralization!’ faster than a “yes, I know you’re working hard, but can you work even harder?” conversation, followed up by a “you know that department xyz is going to blame you if there are any mistakes and I’m not comfortable with that”, followed up by “I hope you’re documenting everything so that we are not in this situation. ever. again.”

I’m not meek nor quiet. I recapped the situation including WHY I was working on the fucking project, where I was on the project, and showed them the pretty tablet filled with lots of notes – and the stash of email in the binder I’d kept. I didn’t even bother with a poker-face or a pleasant tone. Yours truly was raging, minus a hardon. My new boss stepped in to try and calm us down (because my boss’ boss and I have very. similar. personalities.) . Then they apologize up and down, “have a great weekend,” “happy Thanksgiving,” and “see you next week.” I’m either crazy or they’re sharing one brain cell and didn’t schedule it appropriately through Outlook.

Here’s my “to do” list, outside of work (which I tried hard not to think about over the weekend, but hey, it snuck in a few times):

• burn cds for a friend – mail by Wednesday
• rip 100+ cds to server and re-rip songs that skip
• finalize linky links – add Christopher Butler’s artwork/pages
• meme for Sara Sue’s site
• plant winter flowers (ornamental cabbage, pansies, etc)
• finish installment XIII of Seasons
• holiday cards (note to self: not when drinking – illegible)
• finish Evelina
• organize desk
• finish stained glass piece for folks (that I started eons ago)
• finish Julz’ scarf (that I started last year)
• stain/wood preserve on redwood steps by jacuzzi
• paint bathroom and ceiling

So let it be written, so let it be done.  Busy week ahead, but you know what?  I’m not gonna stress about it – at this point, that’s their job.

Not Quite a Funk

Dontcha hate it when that proverbial plate is too full. Pardon the lack of substantive details, but the last few days included: auditors, an interview by an attorney, presentations, mid-term preparations, more presentations, and an earthquake – yeah, that 5.6 in San Jose. Did you read “writing” in there anywhere? Me neither. I’m doing my damnedest not to feel bad, but ya know something, I really thought I’d have time to finish part XIII AND XIV. Tell me how it’s a surprise that men think an inch is much bigger than an actual inch…?

I suck!

So that wasn’t news.

I’m missing a gathering of better-than saints party (cf ex-Mormons) and I’m quite upset. I would have been fine, except they (the divine SML, Christy and FTA) sent some pictures and now I’m inconsolable. My inner-child is having a tantrum. The world isn’t fair that such fabulosity can happen without me! For GAWD’S SAKE, I’m missing a round of DRINKS with good people!

Gah.

I will only say this once (today):

There are times when I really miss living in Utah.

The Belated Answer

I apologize for the for the belated reply to “Fiction in the Space Between.” Just when I think that it can’t get worse at work, I discover there is indeed another layer of Hell. Friday was not pretty. So much so, that it took the whole weekend to get out of my 100% funk. Thank all the gods for Scott, who makes me laugh and smile and take note of the good things in life.

Many thanks for those who indulged me with your guesses!

1. True. My favorite handgun is my father’s 9mm Glock handgun which he got when he was stationed in Germany (he was in the Air Force).

2. True. I know it was my incredible painting skill that made those cars speed down the tracks, winning 3 years in a row. I just hate it when the gay boy kicks ass.

3. False. The language of the statement sucked you into a pre-set framework, sorry. I have never attended a day of seminary in my life.

4. True. I was a big ole wuss about public speaking, and now I could do it easily, unless I’m having Bells Palsy symptoms or uncontrollable facial-muscle spasms like the last month or so, and then I’d be all self-conscious.

5. True. It was erotic and lovely, but not sexual. I chalk that episode up to restraint and iron will.

Frazzle Dazzle

I don’t like posting about work because there are not many positives to mention, other than my awesome team and their tremendous abilities and personalities. I’ll be as non-identifying as possible, not to protect the innocent (because there are none), but because blogging about work is a Dooce-able offense. Allow me a moment to explore my frazzle.

In the last several months I’ve completed major projects that saved another department months of processing time and thousands of dollars in personnel costs. That department is not technologically savvy. Technology to them is an extension cord for the abacus, stone and chisel. Watching them open Microsoft Office applications (Excel, Word, etc) is like watching elementary school kids on their first time through a Spook Alley. They hate me. I represent change. I represent the frightening unknown. I represent automatation and efficiency, which is frightening to a department that acts as a feifdom with entitlement. I’m not humble (I know my stuff) nor shy (fearless, as far as employers go), which only adds to their hatred. It’s taken a lot of work, but our collective relationship has improved over the last year, except for one specific woman.

This woman talks behind my back. This woman talks out of both sides of her mouth. She is two-faced. She is tolerably human when you’re face to face, but a character assassin as soon as you leave the room – not only with me, but with her supervisor and co-workers. What I despise is the act of saying one thing and doing another. Her words and actions aren’t congruent. What I abhor is her thanking me for my help and then trying to savage my performance behind my back. What drives me crazy is her insincerity.

Okay, so she’s a bitch, but so am I. What this comes down to is the challenge of letting it go without being vengeful. The shadow side of me wants to make sure that when she needs/wants something (and she will), that I will make her crawl through glass before she gets it. That meanness is what bothers me more than she does. How to be graceful and “let it go” without feeling like I’m compromising my integrity? I’m still cooling down, so we’ll see what another day does to my attitude.

Forks in the Road

*corrected*

I’m looking at four job options.

I sent off my resume to two places within the last 24 hours. One of them responded today – a phone call and an impromptu phone interview. Do you know how tough it is to have a phone interview while keeping the conversation non-specific enough for your nearby unsuspecting co-workers?

On one hand, I’m thrilled. On the other, I’m in awe of the universe. If you put it out there, it comes back, fast. I’m reminded of how everything came together when I decided, July 24th weekend circa 1998, that I was “done” with Utah and Westminster and ex-boyfriends and I came back from this revelation, gave two month’s notice, gave tons of personal items away and drove from Utah with only those things I could fit in the back of my Ford Ranger.

Tuesday at Work

Borrowing a line from JLO, “it’s definitely sucking.”

There was a surprise resignation announcement yesterday from a key team member. My boss is still brain dead, but breathing and walking and sometimes making noises through his mouth (note to self: remember to write about the vote of ‘no confidence’ that the fuck wit unanimously received from my team). My boss’ boss won’t face the issues of why said person mentioned above is resigning and moving on to greener and smarter pastures. I’m also going to finally do what I told Scott, Lynn, JLO, and scores of anyone who’d listen to me whine: update my resume. Finally. It’s time to jump this sinking ship.

Time for a little levity from Scott Adams, who must channel all the asinine episodes that have ever happened directly from my work site.