Here are a couple of things I learned this year:
1) If you find yourself in a situation that feels dangerous to your soul or unsafe for your psyche -- get out. You will contort yourself into knots trying to force a fit and only succeed in throwing out your back.
2) If you are dating someone and the sex is bad -- get out. Life is far, far too short to be having bad sex. The corollary to this is -- if you are dating someone whose company you really, really enjoy, and the sex is bad -- get out while you can shake hands like a good sport and say, "No harm, no foul," and remain friends.
3) Listen to your gut at work. If you don't trust your own gut, have your most spiritually sensitive friend come into your office at lunch or to pick you up after work. Give them a tour. They will tell you things about your workplace that you are in complete and total denial about. The signs were all there for me -- the entryway wall was a flat, featureless black, the carpets are black, the uncarpeted areas are black linoleum. The walls were stark white without a single piece of artwork hanging. There was not a plant to be found in any of the common areas. All of the bookshelves in the hallways were devoid of books. I mean, not one book. There was nothing about the place itself that said, "Here's a happy workplace." Baby Boy's reaction was, "The energy at that place SUCKS."
4) If you see someone struggling, offer to help, even if they don't ask for it.
5) Don't work for scumbags. Lie down with dogs, get up with fleas.
6) Be kind, be kind, be kind to someone every day. And remember that you are a someone. (I reallllly forgot this lesson this year).
Thursday, December 28, 2006
The Universe Will Do For You What You Won't Do For Yourself
Ok, here's the skinny --
So I've been taking these miniscule little baby steps to get myself back out into the job market -- halfhearted calls to a couple of headhunters, updating my resume on some job search sites, responding to the occasional ad. It never hurts to see what's out there, right?
2006 was a pretty grim year, jobwise, what with selling my soul down the river to the highest bidder (thirty pieces of silver was the quoted price, I believe). Sorry for the mixed metaphor. Spent six months asquirm in a quagmire of bad management, a grim, humorless and not-brainy-enough-for-me workplace (some days I wondered if any of my coworkers had ever read a book), and a persistent feeling of unease, nearly from Day 1, that I had made a dreadful, dreadful mistake.
If it don't fit, don't force it, honey.
About a month or so ago, I gave up. I just stopped giving a shit. And well, when you don't give a shit, you don't give a shit, right? I believe these words actually left my lips when a job left the shop a day late: "Did anyone die because of this? Are we curing cancer here?" While I commend myself for my Big Picture perspicacity, it's one of those things that you probably shouldn't say to your boss.
On the other hand, I had this one client, who from what I learned on Monday has not been happy for months. Funny, no one saw fit to tell me about it. Ever. In fact, a few months ago, the report that I got was that this client was perfectly happy with things. And the salespeople in the company I worked with seemed to love me. In fact, the emails I've gotten after the fact from two of them have attested to that.
Net-net -- I got canned with extreme prejudice on Monday -- no performance reviews along the way despite my having requested one (in writing), no severance, and after 6-1/2 months, I wonder if I'm even eligible for unemployment. Funny how this happened just a few short weeks after I made a formal grievance to human resources about the "gender issue" at the company, after speaking directly to my manager at least three times about it, and having him acknowledge that four female production people left the company before I was hired FOR THE VERY SAME REASON.
Not to worry, Janey's got an appointment with the EEOC. Just exploratory, you see.
Strangely enough, I feel okay. I mean, my money situation just sucks right now, and it's decidedly weird to wake up and not have a job to go to, but I feel oddly liberated. Like the jailhouse doors were open, the golden handcuffs were yanked from my wrists, and I was pushed back out into the world. "And stay out!" yelled the warden.
But...the funny thing is that when the rug is yanked out from under your feet, you'll find all the things that you had swept underneath it. So I've put on my babushka, rolled up my sleeves and I'm getting down to work. Time to find out what it is that I really want to do with this one very short life I've been given.
How strange to have -- not exactly fear, but a feeling that absolutely anything is possible.
I mean, if I could find my frickin' social security card at the bottom of a box of papers (after going through four boxes of papers), I can pretty much do anything.
And while I was cleaning out those boxes, I found a photograph of myself. It was taken on one of the best days of my life -- the end of the first day of my very first AIDS Ride. I had ridden my bike from Boston to Storrs, Connecticut that day, the last 8 miles uphill. 98 miles, the furthest I had ever ridden in my life in one day. I am sitting in the doorway of my tent, still in my bike clothes, sweaty bandanna on my head, shoes off, and a cigarette between my fingers. I am smiling so hard it looks like my face is about to explode.
I remember how I felt at the end of that day -- I was bold and brave, and in the photograph, I am beautiful.
Now, I can get to work finding that girl again.
So I've been taking these miniscule little baby steps to get myself back out into the job market -- halfhearted calls to a couple of headhunters, updating my resume on some job search sites, responding to the occasional ad. It never hurts to see what's out there, right?
2006 was a pretty grim year, jobwise, what with selling my soul down the river to the highest bidder (thirty pieces of silver was the quoted price, I believe). Sorry for the mixed metaphor. Spent six months asquirm in a quagmire of bad management, a grim, humorless and not-brainy-enough-for-me workplace (some days I wondered if any of my coworkers had ever read a book), and a persistent feeling of unease, nearly from Day 1, that I had made a dreadful, dreadful mistake.
If it don't fit, don't force it, honey.
About a month or so ago, I gave up. I just stopped giving a shit. And well, when you don't give a shit, you don't give a shit, right? I believe these words actually left my lips when a job left the shop a day late: "Did anyone die because of this? Are we curing cancer here?" While I commend myself for my Big Picture perspicacity, it's one of those things that you probably shouldn't say to your boss.
On the other hand, I had this one client, who from what I learned on Monday has not been happy for months. Funny, no one saw fit to tell me about it. Ever. In fact, a few months ago, the report that I got was that this client was perfectly happy with things. And the salespeople in the company I worked with seemed to love me. In fact, the emails I've gotten after the fact from two of them have attested to that.
Net-net -- I got canned with extreme prejudice on Monday -- no performance reviews along the way despite my having requested one (in writing), no severance, and after 6-1/2 months, I wonder if I'm even eligible for unemployment. Funny how this happened just a few short weeks after I made a formal grievance to human resources about the "gender issue" at the company, after speaking directly to my manager at least three times about it, and having him acknowledge that four female production people left the company before I was hired FOR THE VERY SAME REASON.
Not to worry, Janey's got an appointment with the EEOC. Just exploratory, you see.
Strangely enough, I feel okay. I mean, my money situation just sucks right now, and it's decidedly weird to wake up and not have a job to go to, but I feel oddly liberated. Like the jailhouse doors were open, the golden handcuffs were yanked from my wrists, and I was pushed back out into the world. "And stay out!" yelled the warden.
But...the funny thing is that when the rug is yanked out from under your feet, you'll find all the things that you had swept underneath it. So I've put on my babushka, rolled up my sleeves and I'm getting down to work. Time to find out what it is that I really want to do with this one very short life I've been given.
How strange to have -- not exactly fear, but a feeling that absolutely anything is possible.
I mean, if I could find my frickin' social security card at the bottom of a box of papers (after going through four boxes of papers), I can pretty much do anything.
And while I was cleaning out those boxes, I found a photograph of myself. It was taken on one of the best days of my life -- the end of the first day of my very first AIDS Ride. I had ridden my bike from Boston to Storrs, Connecticut that day, the last 8 miles uphill. 98 miles, the furthest I had ever ridden in my life in one day. I am sitting in the doorway of my tent, still in my bike clothes, sweaty bandanna on my head, shoes off, and a cigarette between my fingers. I am smiling so hard it looks like my face is about to explode.
I remember how I felt at the end of that day -- I was bold and brave, and in the photograph, I am beautiful.
Now, I can get to work finding that girl again.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Jane's Approved Holiday Song List
With their representative first couple of lines to illustrate just why Jane loves them so much:
1) Fairytale of New York - The Pogues
"It was Christmas Eve, babe, in the drunk tank/An old man said to me, won't see another one...."
2) Happy Xmas (War is Over) - John Lennon
"And so this is Christmas, and what have you done?"
3) Merry Christmas from the Family - Robert Earl Keen
"Mom got drunk, and Dad got drunk, at our Christmas party..."
4) Merry Christmas to Me/Hard Candy Christmas - KT Sullivan
"December rain is slowly falling, it's colder than it used to be / There's no one here I feel like calling... Merry Christmas to me..." blah blah blah "Here's a toast to what once was, and another year alone..."
5) After the Holidays - Andrea Marcovicci
"Just stay with me till after the holidays, that's when I need you so...Please say you'll wait till after the holidays, then I can let you go... Don't make me face this Christmas alone, after each wonderful Christmas we've known... Won't you be kind and let me believe, you're mine on New Year's Eve?"
Jesus, is that last one mewling or what?
Can't wait for January 6, the official end of the 12 Fucking days of Christmas -- which means, for me, hard core New Orleans and Mardi Gras music can begin!
I am taking requests, so if anyone has any suggestions for less-than-cheerful tunes for my Xmas list, send 'em on in.
1) Fairytale of New York - The Pogues
"It was Christmas Eve, babe, in the drunk tank/An old man said to me, won't see another one...."
2) Happy Xmas (War is Over) - John Lennon
"And so this is Christmas, and what have you done?"
3) Merry Christmas from the Family - Robert Earl Keen
"Mom got drunk, and Dad got drunk, at our Christmas party..."
4) Merry Christmas to Me/Hard Candy Christmas - KT Sullivan
"December rain is slowly falling, it's colder than it used to be / There's no one here I feel like calling... Merry Christmas to me..." blah blah blah "Here's a toast to what once was, and another year alone..."
5) After the Holidays - Andrea Marcovicci
"Just stay with me till after the holidays, that's when I need you so...Please say you'll wait till after the holidays, then I can let you go... Don't make me face this Christmas alone, after each wonderful Christmas we've known... Won't you be kind and let me believe, you're mine on New Year's Eve?"
Jesus, is that last one mewling or what?
Can't wait for January 6, the official end of the 12 Fucking days of Christmas -- which means, for me, hard core New Orleans and Mardi Gras music can begin!
I am taking requests, so if anyone has any suggestions for less-than-cheerful tunes for my Xmas list, send 'em on in.
Stingy Claus is Coming to Town
So, here we are, down in the financial district, where young turks are pulling down half-mil bonuses (and that's the low-on-the-totem-pole guys -- the big shots are apparently getting zillions).
In the midst of all of this corporate largesse, we got the news last Friday that here in our little duchy, there will be no Christmas bonus. Apparently it's the first time in NINETEEN YEARS they haven't given out bonuses.
Not such a big deal for your Janey, who's only been working in this shithole for 6 months -- I wasn't really expecting one, or if anything, a token, no more. But the people who have been here for years, wow, are they PISSED.
Now, I would be the first person to tell you not to plan your life around a bonus. I mean, it's a bonus. It's not a paycheck. Coming to rely on it is foolish at best, and financially devastating at worst. I mean, I know one guy who actually said these words to me, "How the hell am I gonna have Christmas for my kid? I've barely got enough to pay the bills as it is."
I think in Buddhism this is what is called "being attached to outcomes." And boy, has that caused some suffering here. You can almost hear the phones ringing off the hook at every headhunter in town.
Expect nothing, get nothing, and you'll never be disappointed, as Matt would say. A Buddha from way back.
In the midst of all of this corporate largesse, we got the news last Friday that here in our little duchy, there will be no Christmas bonus. Apparently it's the first time in NINETEEN YEARS they haven't given out bonuses.
Not such a big deal for your Janey, who's only been working in this shithole for 6 months -- I wasn't really expecting one, or if anything, a token, no more. But the people who have been here for years, wow, are they PISSED.
Now, I would be the first person to tell you not to plan your life around a bonus. I mean, it's a bonus. It's not a paycheck. Coming to rely on it is foolish at best, and financially devastating at worst. I mean, I know one guy who actually said these words to me, "How the hell am I gonna have Christmas for my kid? I've barely got enough to pay the bills as it is."
I think in Buddhism this is what is called "being attached to outcomes." And boy, has that caused some suffering here. You can almost hear the phones ringing off the hook at every headhunter in town.
Expect nothing, get nothing, and you'll never be disappointed, as Matt would say. A Buddha from way back.
I Saw Mommy Killing Santa Claus
A guy I work with innocently approached my desk with his cd case open and held out like a prayerbook.
"Jane, I brought in some Christmas music for you."
I threw my arms up in front of my face, as a vampire does when confronted with a cross. After the hissing subsided, I gave him my sweetest smile.
"I'm very sorry, Scooter, didn't anyone tell you? I'm the Girl Who Hates Christmas."
He laughed. He thought I was kidding.
The smile never left my face.
"No, seriously, get that shit the fuck away from me."
He backed away, very, very slowly, and from a safe distance said,
"Wow, you really DO hate Christmas, don't you?"
And now, wafting over his partition, I hear the happy sounds of -- blues guitar.
Point to Jane.
"Jane, I brought in some Christmas music for you."
I threw my arms up in front of my face, as a vampire does when confronted with a cross. After the hissing subsided, I gave him my sweetest smile.
"I'm very sorry, Scooter, didn't anyone tell you? I'm the Girl Who Hates Christmas."
He laughed. He thought I was kidding.
The smile never left my face.
"No, seriously, get that shit the fuck away from me."
He backed away, very, very slowly, and from a safe distance said,
"Wow, you really DO hate Christmas, don't you?"
And now, wafting over his partition, I hear the happy sounds of -- blues guitar.
Point to Jane.