The building I work in most frequently houses not only my client, but General Dynamics as well.
Every single time I see the sign for General Dynamics I can’t help but think of YoYoDyne Propulsion Systems. I wonder if I check the employee directory if I’ll find a listing for John Bigboote?
Well, I’ve successfully completed my first week of employment at my new gig. (Oh, and btw: I also successfully passed my drug test, so please pass the bong.)
The view from here is entirely rosey. At the end of both Monday and Tuesday I was on total information overload, but by Wednesday I was in a bit of a groove, that continued into yesterday.
I was at the home office on Monday and today, and on two different job sites Tuesday through Thursday. This is the kind of schedule I can live with.
My day today was supposed to be training in the morning and observing an installation this afternoon, but it turns out the installing won’t happen until about 9:00 tonight. When I told my new boss this (I love my new boss) he said to forget about it.
So after lunch I toddled over to boss’ office to ask him what he’d like me to do for the rest of the afternoon.
He (so cleverly) pointed out that it was Friday. I agreed that yes, in fact, it was Friday. He then (even more cleverly) pointed out that since all organized plans had been scuttled I had nothing to do for the afternoon. I readily agreed with this observation as well. He then (in a supreme stroke of brilliance) suggested that I should just go home. I demurred for a brief moment, not wanting to give myself away as the slacker I truly am, but then I agreed with this.
Imagine a boss who treats his direct reports like grown ups. Imagine an environment where there is accountability and respect from the top down and across all lines. Imagine a place where you’re motivated to get up and go to work every day.
Yeah, that’s my job. And have I mentioned yet how much I love my new boss? Yes, I have, but it is worth mentioning again. He totally rocks!
A far cry from my last gig, and clearly how things are at my new gig.
As the title of this entry so plainly says it: it’s the way it should be.
Amongst some of my girlfriends we use the name Bob to refer to a “Battery Operated Boyfriend”. You know what I mean.
Well, imagine my amusement when I showed up for my first day at work and every guy on my team is named Bob. Ha. OK, not all Bob’s, there’s Bob, Bobby, Rob, and Robert. So I collectively refer to them as the Bob’s.
I was laughing inside; where it really counts.
Day one went well, but I’m absolutely beat.
I didn’t sleep well at all last night–too much highly spiced dinner which sent me to bed on a full stomach and the anticipation of a new adventure had me waking up at approximately 90 minute intervals. And the time in between the wakeful periods was filled with bizarre dreams.
I’m off to bed shortly. To sleep. Perchance to dream a little less bizarrely.
Thanks to those of you who sent actual and cosmic juju. It paid off.
In other news, the comments appear to be working again, so feel free to continue to send juju from far and near.
Tomorrow morning at 8:30 (ugh) a.m. I start my (what I’m certain will be) fabulous new job.
I haven’t been the new kid in a really long time…14+ years actually…so I’m a bit nervous.
Oh, and I know I mentioned that I have to be there at 8:30 and where I have to go for my 2 weeks of training is further than my old office, the office where I was hard-pressed to arrive at before 9:15 a.m., and on first days you want to make a good impression and all.
So I have to leave the house at 7:00 a.m.
That’s 7:00 a.m. out the door folks. That’s earlier than I used to get up for my old job.
I’m 99.9% certain that the dress code at the new gig is business casual, but they weren’t real particular about telling me for certain, so I’m going to err on the side of caution and go cute and professional but not ultra-dressed up.
Of course this means that I have thought and re-thought my outfit only 9,000,000,000 times.
Last night the planned ensemble required that I buy a new pair of shoes, but when I got to the store to buy the new shoes I couldn’t remember what that outfit was, so I left new-shoeless.
And right there, on the spot, in the store I decided on the perfect outfit, and what was even better was that I actually already own all the parts to it, so while I might have loved to buy something, I’d rather know for sure what I’m going to need to wear on a daily basis and buy more of that than something I might need sometimes.
You know what I mean.
So I’m going to be the new kid tomorrow. And like I said I’m nervous.
So send me some good juju. You can’t comment but you can either send me some mental good vibes, or a groovy e-mail of love.
OK, that amused me, but maybe I’m just easily amused. (OK, you see the title of the previous entry was MeMe, so I went with PePe. Get it???????????)
Yeah, I had a date with a specimen cup today. It’s been four weeks minus one day (I think, but then I have no short term memory) since I last smoked pot.
As previously reported, my little “at home” test came up clean, but being me, I still stressed about it. Substantially less, but the reality is, something could go horribly wrong and I’ll find myself really unemployed on Monday.
These last two weeks, while I have been without employment, have not really been “unemployment”. They’ve been “between employment” weeks.
Anyway, I drove for at least an hour to get to bumfuck Whittier today to pee in a cup. We can start with Whittier, but why? After having gone to Whittier today I cannot for the life of me figure out why anyone would want to actually make it a destination, much less live there. But that’s just me. I’m sure lots of people say that about Sherman Oaks. And Paris.
For the last 30 or so minutes of the drive I really had to pee. This is excellent considering I’m driving an hour to pee in a cup.
I arrived at the pee clinic. It turns out it was basically inside the emergency room of a hospital. The authorization form that I brought with me did provide a vague-ish map showing me where to go, but it did not actually tell me it was inside the ER, but after asking around, I found my way.
I was greeted by a most unpleasant clerk at the desk of the pee clinic. She gave me about 25 forms to fill out, giving me instructions in heavily accented English. Now pee clerk is used to getting pee from the masses and has seen these forms 5 million times, and obviously understands what she’s saying. I, however, had never seen the forms before and didn’t so much understand what she was saying. And I really had to pee.
I managed with the forms and turned them in and informed pee clerk that I really had to go. She told me, quite unpleasantly, to have a seat and someone would be with me shortly.
Shortly after my arrival two (obviously) sales people walked in. The woman had a briefcase. The man had a box with a pie in it. They were immediately shown to the back area.
I sat and waited.
More people filed in. Some of them had pee request forms and were given their pile of pee forms to fill in with the same piss poor instructions I received. The others were told to sit and wait. Several of those others (the non-pee-ers) were shown to rooms in the back. I (now with my legs firmly crossed) had to continue to wait.
About 45 minutes into my waiting I approached pee clerk to ask her if it would be much longer as I REALLY had to pee by now. Pee clerk tried to ignore me, but I was having none of that. She told me that it would just be a few more minutes.
An hour into my wait….now rightly fed the fuck up with being made to sit and wait an hour to pee, I find out that the two salespeople were in the back giving the staff some kind of demonstration and serving them pie. (As if anyone who handles pee all day would actually want to eat at their workplace?????? or maybe that’s just me being fussy.)
After I threw a bit of a fit and told pee clerk I had to pee NOW, I was shown to the pee area.
I saw the pee nurse who had me fill out a few more forms (because obviously I couldn’t do that in the hour I sat in the waiting room). I had to show pee nurse my ID to prove that it was me, and shown to a cabinet to lock my purse up. I could take the key to the cabinet into the special pee restroom with me, but nothing else. (I was vaguely surprised that I didn’t get frisked).
Pee nurse squirted some blue stuff into the toilet, handed me a specimen cup, and told me to pee to the line of the cup and not flush when I was done.
I closed the door to the pee restroom (which was not lockable by the way) and peed. I only peed to the line, but I could have probably filled the cup I’d needed to go so badly for so long.
There was a sink in the restroom, but the water was turned off and there was a sign that said I could wash my hands at the sink outside. The sanitary napkin disposal box was taped shut with a note that said something about that being a requirement of a pee restroom.
Whatever. I was just so happy I could finally go. Then I was afraid I’d lose my mind and flush, but thankfully, I kept my wits about me.
I came out and handed pee nurse my specimen and proceeded to wash my hands. She poured some of my specimen into a test tube, which I then had to initial, and then poured the balance of my sample into the toilet and examined the water before flushing.
But it’s all over now. Aren’t you glad I shared with you?
Now I must go. I have to pee.
So…all adult Atkins are currently between jobs. What better way to celebrate this than by going on vacation? I knew you’d agree with me.
Monday morning at the ungodly hour of 7:30 a.m. we jet off to Mazatlan. We’re going to spend a week in a suite at the lovely Pueblo Bonito resort on the sunny Pacific coast of Mexico.
It’s a full vacation schedule:
1. pool
2. ocean
3. pool
4. snorkeling
5. reading
6. pool
7. eating
8. relaxing
9. pool
10. naps
11. lather, rinse, and repeat from #1
We’re all looking forward to some family time.
I’ll miss you all madly, but I’m TiVoing all your journal and blog entries so I won’t miss a thing.
Hasta la vista!
I made much flap several months ago about how unhappy I was at my job. I went on and on for several days. Then not another word was said. You might have wondered why. Or not.
Truth be told, I had a horrible feeling that the asshat boss had finally gotten a clue and decided to Google me and as I wanted to quit–not get fired, I decided to lay low on these pages.
But things have been moving along and percolating at a steady clip here and it was with surprisingly mixed emotions that I QUIT MY JOB ON FRIDAY.
I start a new position as a Project Manager with a full service interior design and furniture company effective April 18.
Wooooooooooooooooo hoooooooooooooooo!
So, yes, at 8:30 Friday morning I officially resigned, giving my two weeks notice.
And because quitting my job wasn’t fabulous enough in and of itself, I already had vacation time scheduled for the first week of April, so I will only have to work one week of my two week notice!
So yeah I’m looking for a job. We all know that. Alexa is sure they’ll all start calling right after the first of the year. I’m holding her to that, in case you’re wondering.
So going to the office every day is a mixed bag for me. The animosity between me and my boss is palpable, but you’d be so proud of me as I have been gracious and professional, and anxiously await the day I can give my notice.
As part of parcel of the whole let’s fuck with Beth M.O. that my boss has adopted, he’s asked me to move my office so that the person who got the other promotion that was offered at the same time the one I didn’t get was offered, can move into my office. He wants this person right next to him so he can be “coached”.
Frankly, though I love my current office, I’m happy to move. I designed the space so I know that every office is beautiful (not to mention virtually identical), so I don’t mind going to another one. And I’d be just as happy to move to far away from him, even to another floor, but I can’t be that lucky.
So I’m going to move my office on Monday. Instead of a view of the Hollywood sign, I will now have a view of the new Walt Disney Concert Hall that was designed by Frank Gehry. IMHO, I think I’m trading up because: a) my office is no longer next to asshole boss, and b) I was getting tired of my old view.
Anyway, despite Alexa’s assurances, and the assurances of those around me that are helping me, I still worry. When you’ve been at a job for 14 years, as I have with this one, you worry about your employablity elsewhere. Will my skills translate elsewhere? Will anyone else want me? It boils down to self-esteem issues.
Well, shortly after the “I’d like you to move on Monday” discussion, I checked my work horoscope for the day:
Buddha may not have had the modern workplace in mind when he suggested giving up our attachments, but right now that’s the best advice for your current situation. You’ll free yourself for new opportunities coming soon.
I received this e-mail from the lovely GraceDavis:
“BTW, your chit-chatty email is a post to the Diary. Cut, paste, done. Have no shame. Save yourself time. Do ths ASAP because all of us on the World Wide Web have to be assured that the Bethra will rise above the ASSHATS.”
And because she told me to, I will cut and paste the e-mail I sent to her, which is my way of updating you all on what’s going on with me:
“So, just wanted to share with you that I am making progress in the
search for new employment.
Last night I stepped out of my little comfort zone and attended the
AIA Christmas party. It was a little cocktail soiree for all the
mover and shaker architects in L.A. It took place a few minutes walk
from my office in a totally cool space.
My career guru Mitchell called and invited me to go and I didn’t
really want to because I’m not all that comfortable networking and
pitching myself….yeah, I know….totally stupid, because if I’m not
going to pimp me, no one else can.
Anyway, I dutifully schmoozed and passed out cards and put the word
out that I’m looking for project management/construction management
work and several people asked me for my resume. Yeah!!!!!!
One of my dear friends who is an architect at the hottest firm in town
was there. She knows all the players in my ongoing drama and that I
was interviewing for the position. When I told her what happened she
was horrified.
At her request I’m going to send her my resume tonight and she’s going
to pass it along. She told me that tons of people are looking for
project managers right now and she’s happy to recommend me.
Also ran into a woman I met several years ago. We met with her and
her boss (who I also ran into last night) to possibly do some work for
us. She said she totally remembered me and that she remembered being
impressed with me at the time: I made a real impression on her and
that she wanted to hold mirrors under the noses of everyone else in
the room (my co-workers, mwahahahaha).
When I left the cocktail party a couple of hours later with extremely
sore feet I was on cloud nine and felt completely validated and
recharged in my quest for new work! Yeah!!!!!
Goal: new job by the end of January. OK, it’s a little lofty, but
probably doable.
So, was going to tell you all that on the phone because typing it
makes it a little convoluted, but you get the idea.
xxb”
There you have it.
I found out on Wednesday afternoon that I was passed over for a promotion that a) I really, really, really, really wanted, and b) I really, really, really, really deserved.
So I’ve been home ever since. You know, it’s really hard to go into the office when you’re feeling totally humiliated, undervalued, unemployable, and not appreciated. So yeah, I’ve been home.
I put yesterday to good use, between pity parties, Chuck and I made a major dent in the holiday shopping. Also, we put up our tree, and I did some minor holiday decorating. I was feeling better until about 11:30 last night and decided I couldn’t possibly face the office today. So I called in sick.
I started the morning with a major pity party. Then at about 8:30 this morning, the always super fantastic GraceDavis phoned. She hoped to catch me on my commute, which normally she would have. I told her I was boycotting the office and gave her a longer, but still abbreviate, version of my recent horror.
I mentioned to her that I still need to work on my resume. We both agreed that it’s really hard to do when the only thing you want to put in the “Objective” is GET A NEW FUCKING JOB.
But shoutouts abound for GraceDavis because after I got off the phone with her I felt much better and starting looking for a new job.
I spent a big chunk of the morning at monster.com. They have a resume builder so I started at the beginning and filled in the little blanks. Of course I got stuck when I got to “Objective”. I pondered that for a long while, and knowing myself as I do, and knowing that getting stuck there would be enough to derail this, I put “Get a new job” in the little box and moved forward. I can go back and change that when I have the inspiration/creative juices to put something brilliant there. At least I’ve gotten a start.
My goal is to have a new resume finished by the end of the weekend and start sending it out next week.
I saw some interesting prospects at monster, not to mention the fact that last time I considered moving on employment-wise, nearly every one of the business contacts I mentioned it to asked me for my resume.
So, that’s what’s new here. Aren’t you glad you checked in?
