The All-Staff

So it is 2:46 on a sunny Wednesday afternoon and you are impatiently sitting inside your comfortable cubicle. Your body has been in the same position for the past three hours; hunched over the keyboard with eyes firmly glued to the monitor. Emails have gone unanswered, phones messages not returned, lunch is still in the department fridge, and you are pouring sweat knowing the impending deadline. What task might bring such nervousness you ask – Pulling department financials for the afternoon All-Staff.

Yes you; you were the one chosen to put together the company’s current financial climate onto a PowerPoint presentation. Do you have any financial background? No. You were an English Major who spent more time watching Wizard of Oz with Dark Side of the Moon than you did in an Accounting or Econ class. What a glorious thing a Liberal Arts education is. But, back to the task at hand. For the last three hours you have been pulling bits and pieces of financial data and piece mailing it together. Do you even understand what the data represents? No. You have ten minutes before you have to head downstairs to a large conference room in the Southern tower of ___________________ Corporation’s downtown offices. But what seems to be taking so long? The font. You have been instructed to make the font “fun” and “friendly”. You only have one shot at this… Done!

With your precious commodity on a jump drive around your wrist you make your way through a maze of cubicles and hop on an empty elevator heading to the 1st floor. During the ten second ride down you question everything you have just spent a majority of the day working on. Is it detailed enough? Is it easy to understand? Do the color schemes match? God! The font, hopefully you were both “fun” and “friendly”. Finally you arrive on the 1st floor and fumble your way to Room-262. This room is huge! There are two theater sized screens on the North wall and scores upon scores of empty chairs. There is only one other person in the room with you; your Director’s gay admin. His name is John Thomas. Yes, he has requested to be acknowledged by his first and middle name.

“Hi __________, how are you?” asks John Thomas. Your fine. You have just spent the last 3 hours of your life worried sick about whether the presentation is aesthetically pleasing to the eye. You hand off the jump drive to John Thomas and he loads it into the computer and preps for the rest of the all-staff. You inform John Thomas of the time and effort you have put into the presentation. “I am sure Mr. Maya is going to have easy time with it” John Thomas lets out with a subtle lisp. What? Jerry Maya is going to be delivering the financial report this afternoon? Yes. The one guy you loath more than Al-Qaeda and “the clap” is going to take your hard work and present it to the whole department.

Its 3:20 and some of your cohorts are filtering to the room. These are the people who feel it necessary to get to an all-staff meeting 25 minutes early in order to stock up on cookies and soda. You grab a seat towards the middle of the room. Hopefully you can dose off while others intently hang on every inspirational word spouting from some Executive Vice-President CEO man. The rest of your team arrives and sits near you. You now feel the obligation to sit straight up and take out a note pad like you care to remember what is being said. To make matters worse there happens to be two very chipper lasses sitting directly behind you. Sarah and Kerry; prophets of the Gospel According to Gab and Gossip. Your hopes of unwinding with a brief afternoon catnap are fading fast.

Its 3:40 and the all-staff is going to commence in 5 minutes. You wonder to yourself whose bright idea it is to have a meeting from 3:45 to 5 o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon…

It is now 4 o’ clock and you can actually feel yourself getting older. The latest promotions have just been announced. To your astonishment in 15 minutes only three people have been informed of their promotion. What takes so long? The clapping. There is clapping prior to the announcement. There is clapping when the person is called to the front of the room. There is clapping when they are informed of their promotion. There is clapping when their previous mangers lauds them with praise. And there is clapping when they sit down. Your hands are sore. What’s next you wonder. Financials.

So finally your blood, sweat, and tears is going to be presented in front of the entire department. Jerry struts up to the podium grinning like an idiot and wearing a bright green dress shirt with a finely pressed black suit. He starts it off with “Great to be here. I wouldn’t miss this much fun for the world”. Was that vomit on your breath? He flies through the presentation in 10 minutes. He hits every keynote and weaves a brilliant story. Your story. The audience is putty in his hands. They laugh at every joke, no matter how lame. When it is all said and done he gives a wave to the crowd. Your Director gives him a firm handshake and sends him on his way. “Wasn’t that wonderful people? How about a round of applause.” Your Director bellows from the podium. As the audience turns to Jerry he actually takes a bow, well more like a curtsey.

It is now 4:15 and there is 45 more minutes of sitting in an uncomfortable folding chair. What’s next you wonder. You forgot to print out the agenda, being that you were busy putting together that Academy Award winning performance for Mr. Maya. Next on the line up is some Junior Vice-President from the Marketing Department. He has been sitting intently in the front row next to your Director. He is a small guy wearing dark rimmed glasses, faded blue jeans, a brown t-shirt with a dark blue sport coat, and to top it off he has molded his short blonde hair into a mini Mohawk. He gets to the podium and is barely able to peer over the top. The first high pitched words from the miniature man’s mouth are “Who loves fashion?”

After 30 minutes of Junior Marketing Man rattling off the latest trends from Borneo to Calcutta your mind is fucked into a tizzy. You wonder how on earth a human could first speak that fast and second actually be enthusiastic that a new form of fabric fiber is being produced using the small hands of the Ancient peoples of _____________ (Insert poor indigenous folk from Third World Country). He wraps up with a montage of the current marketing schemes being cooked up. Flash after flash you feel a seizure coming on as the company’s logo is bursting on the twin theater screens. Your eardrums are about to burst as music is pumped into the room through an extremely intricate and highly valuable surround sound system. On the other side of the room you actually catch a glimpse of some of your colleagues dancing in their seats and clapping to the company’s upcoming commercial season.

It is 4:55, only 5 more minutes and you can finally return to your actual job. The last 5 minutes though have been reserved for departmental awards. These awards are not given to those who have gone above and beyond the core responsibilities and execution of one’s job, but rather they are handed down to those who have done exactly what they have been told. There might as well be an award for showing up on time. Again there are several rounds of clapping; even some hoots and whistles can be heard from within the pack of enthusiastic onlookers. Finally you are free to head back up the six floors to commence digging yourself out of a pile of voicemails, scores of emails, and a gaggle of post-it notes. You leave work at 11:00 p.m., you have been there since 6:00 a.m.

FREEEEEEEDOM!

Dec. 17th 2006,

At this very moment I am stalling, avoiding, delaying the inevitable…after all working on the weekend feels so unnatural it makes me sick. I hate the sight of my cubicle, but I especially hate the sight of it on a Sunday evening when I should be enjoying the company of a friend or at least a good movie on TBS. Even laundry sounds more fun at this point. One thing gets me through though and that is the fact that soon I will be free. Yes ladies and gentlemen I am taking control of my own destiny and telling “The Man” to take this job and shove it. Merely weeks now separate me from my new found freedom.

This long florescent lighted journey started a year and a half ago. I, like everyone else was wearing the black suit, the smile and the excitement of working for a company that will remain nameless. It makes me laugh when I think about how much I wanted this job, what a joke.

The first couple weeks were a blur, however I remember early on sitting in my cage, I mean cube and thinking “This is it? This is what I went to college for?” And I have felt that way ever since…

This job endures all the Corporate America clichés, people who would push co-workers in to traffic if it gets them promoted, managers that are not leaders, they merely paid their dues and therefore took the next step, and fresh college graduates such as myself who have the energy and desire to succeed and be creative, but are now “stuck” being just like everyone else. I have realized a cube is nowhere for anyone with true aspirations for their life, because if you have a cube you’re most likely just another person in a sea of complacency.

So again, I am getting out; I’m giving up the 401K plan, the nice salary, the downtown apartment and the high heels for my freedom. And it truly is exhilarating to think about. I have two dilemmas at this point however. How do I stay motivated until the day I walk out of that high rise building for the last time and what do I say when I give them my two weeks. After all it’s my one chance to be heard.

My only motivation to get my work done is to not completely fuck over the next warm body that takes my place. I mean how evil would it be to knowingly make the job even worse than it will already be for him or her. “Sigh” They have no idea what they are in for.

As for what to say when I tell them that I am leaving the company, ohhhh the possibilities. When they ask me “Can we ask why you are making the choice to leave?” part of me wants to say something like “Are you kidding me, I can’t believe I’ve made it this long!” or “Life is way to short to be spent in a cube, no offense”. Or maybe I will get deep and talk about how I want my 20s to be meaningful and not spent doing meaningless crap to drive sales to make Johnny CEO a little richer. I can’t believe I ever thought working in Corporate America was a good idea. It’s a place for people who want to be like everyone else, it is not a place for me, someone who strives on being creative and independent. This decision to leave it all behind is going to be the best one I will ever make.

I rather be broke and happy, than rich and corporate.