So here's the thing. It's all up for grabs. I got no real pivot point defined right now.
I've decided to leave my job due to the. . . how shall I put it. . . soul suck. No, soul robbing. No, soul pimping I've done for the last year. I've been at it for three years, but the serious soul pimping started about 18 months ago and I just can't hear myself complain about it anymore. It's one of those positions that starts out fantastic and mind-bending, challenging and exciting until after a few years you realize you're worked to the bone, you're but a pawn in the bad-decision making management game and you don't respect them anymore, you're on your very very very very last nerve ending, and you don't even WANT to be Director or VP or ANY of the positions that yours naturally leads to, AND suddenly that the Manager guy from Office Space was in fact based on the guy you spend 8-12 hours a day with, but instead of saying"We're gonna need you to come in on Saturday, Mmmmkayyyyy?" he says stuff like:
"Coooool?" Translated: "Understand? Get it? I'm done with my response even though it makes no sense whatsoever and I basically just repeated what you asked me."
"It's locked and loooooooaaaaaded" Translated: "My team leads just told me they finished all the elements to this project and it's ready for presentation."
"Let's Rock n Roll!" Translated: "I'm retarded and know all the words to every Journey song so this is how I like to start a meeting to set the mood for F U N."
Did I mention he talks so loudly that I can't hear myself on the phone? And I wear a headset. But he talks at a normal decimal level when he wants to whisper. This is so irritating not because what he's talking about is me or my colleague who sit right next to him and can HEAR EVERYTHING (people, cubicles are so 80s, can we pleease move on?) but because he knows what a normal decimal level is and chooses not to talk in it for most of the day. He is one of those people who wants everyone to know how much, how long, how hard he is working and how IMPORTANT his work is. He never leaves his desk, EVER. I'm not joking. He brings a lunch and munches on it while "Ticking off" his emails. So there he is, ticking off, getting things locked and loaded, All day, every day. 6am to 5pm. This is not efficiency people. With workdays, weeks, months, years like that we should be much further along than we are. Trust me. Oh, he is also known as the Forwarding Master. He ducks and weaves like nobody's business, I'm telling you.
Whew, this is my first post and i'm feeling better already despite a friend that kindly warned "Just start blogging girl, but if you want to talk about this place, be careful." Well, so happens this is what is most on my mind and most what i need to vomit forth. Isn't that what blogging is about? Apparently it's easiest for me to start by sharing the immediate Personal Agony and make it just a little more Public. There's something restorative about seeing your collective heads nod in agreement.
I've decided to leave my job due to the. . . how shall I put it. . . soul suck. No, soul robbing. No, soul pimping I've done for the last year. I've been at it for three years, but the serious soul pimping started about 18 months ago and I just can't hear myself complain about it anymore. It's one of those positions that starts out fantastic and mind-bending, challenging and exciting until after a few years you realize you're worked to the bone, you're but a pawn in the bad-decision making management game and you don't respect them anymore, you're on your very very very very last nerve ending, and you don't even WANT to be Director or VP or ANY of the positions that yours naturally leads to, AND suddenly that the Manager guy from Office Space was in fact based on the guy you spend 8-12 hours a day with, but instead of saying"We're gonna need you to come in on Saturday, Mmmmkayyyyy?" he says stuff like:
"Coooool?" Translated: "Understand? Get it? I'm done with my response even though it makes no sense whatsoever and I basically just repeated what you asked me."
"It's locked and loooooooaaaaaded" Translated: "My team leads just told me they finished all the elements to this project and it's ready for presentation."
"Let's Rock n Roll!" Translated: "I'm retarded and know all the words to every Journey song so this is how I like to start a meeting to set the mood for F U N."
Did I mention he talks so loudly that I can't hear myself on the phone? And I wear a headset. But he talks at a normal decimal level when he wants to whisper. This is so irritating not because what he's talking about is me or my colleague who sit right next to him and can HEAR EVERYTHING (people, cubicles are so 80s, can we pleease move on?) but because he knows what a normal decimal level is and chooses not to talk in it for most of the day. He is one of those people who wants everyone to know how much, how long, how hard he is working and how IMPORTANT his work is. He never leaves his desk, EVER. I'm not joking. He brings a lunch and munches on it while "Ticking off" his emails. So there he is, ticking off, getting things locked and loaded, All day, every day. 6am to 5pm. This is not efficiency people. With workdays, weeks, months, years like that we should be much further along than we are. Trust me. Oh, he is also known as the Forwarding Master. He ducks and weaves like nobody's business, I'm telling you.
Whew, this is my first post and i'm feeling better already despite a friend that kindly warned "Just start blogging girl, but if you want to talk about this place, be careful." Well, so happens this is what is most on my mind and most what i need to vomit forth. Isn't that what blogging is about? Apparently it's easiest for me to start by sharing the immediate Personal Agony and make it just a little more Public. There's something restorative about seeing your collective heads nod in agreement.