GREED is my GOD. Forget JESUS CHRIST... you believe his bullshit!? Here is a guy who has remained the most infamous and evil personage in HUMAN HISTORY!! HE is responsible for more death and war than dumbass GW BUSH. Jesus was in it for one thing - immortality!
Yes, his entire book reads to one theme, make 'JC' immortal! Praise HIM forever. - Well, I say to all those of you who believe HIM... believe this!
PRAISE ME FOREVER! I AM HE! MAKE ME IMMORTAL!!
Greed is the creed of all great men. Make no FUCKING mistake. Everything can be broken down to the basic human instinct of survival. Try it!
Seriously test it out. Try some bullshit pop-culture brainwashing semantic of the American public... How about ... 'You complete me' ?? Ok, so what does Jerry want, a seriously maniacal mother fucker who up until this point had one goal. MONEY!!
How about Immortality!? Jesus is not my GOD but he is my goal. Jerry is simply searching for the best possible complement to his own genetic structure! Having children with a successful, intelligent, beautiful, compassionate (able to relate to the 90% of the dumbass public still in denial) woman, means an offspring that is likely to demonstrate advantageous characteristics of both parents. BLOODLINE will be improved by this partnership... by this 'You complete Me'.
No, still in denial, then don't worry, but hurry! I don't have that much time left to rehearse your retarded ass! Remember, well saying it out-loud won't win friends, I only write on this Blog for two reasons.
1. The hope that one day I will build a successful business in publishing from this endeavor.
2. Providing sound advice garners attention and readership.
Not one Fucking ignorant loser hasn't heard... 'Nice guys finish last!' or questioned why women consistently call for sensitive funny men, while continuing to date arrogant, self assured, muscular, intelligent men like myself. Make no mistake... there is no doubt.
Women will breed with me, they will FUCK me in the hopes of breeding with me because at the most basic level they look to extend their own immortality, to extend their own Blood Line.
GOD Damn! You still doubt me? Well don't worry, you can ponder this in your shabby shack 20 years down the road, while I sip martini's on my yacht in Monaco! Survival of the Fittest.
Why would a company return 5% of the profit to the community??? Because the 5% is the bare minimum required contribution to ensure a safe environment in which to raise your offspring or if you prefer to refer to it... BLOOD LINE!! By returning 5% of the dolts money to them free of charge, the 'Corporation' can maintain a public image of decency and the safety and standard of living most suitable to spending my Golden Parachute pay package likely exceeding 45$$ Million .... Yeah BITCH, that's per year!
I have no need to pay for or otherwise improve the fortune of the misguided souls of this earth. I am here, I exist... for one singular reason - To improve my own being. I and everyone else on this lonely planet at one level or another subscribe to one rule: Survival of the Fittest.
NO? Then explain your GAY COKE ADDICT, Dick Sucking Leader you Christian Right Wing Mother Fucker!! He didn't give a shit about you, he gave a shit about his own well being, it was this and this alone that led him to lead your spiritual well (shitty) ass being.
My advice: Surround yourself with those who will continually challenge you.
I don't care that it's tough, make it rough, only the strong survive. Encircle yourself with intelligent, charismatic, ambitious, driven and above all competitive friends who will FORCE you to grow and develop! This is the true meaning of 'Keep your friends close and enemies closer.'
Your best friends in this World will not hesitate to 'Outdo' or 'Overthrow' you. They support you for the same reason you support them: Your challenges make each of you stronger. That is the partnership you seek!
The entire credo can be broken down into one single GLORIOUS TRUTH! One Truth upon which all people have survived since the beginning of time.
Competition is THE Beautiful Game!
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Monday, March 05, 2007
The Rumor Mill
The Rumor Mill was developed some years back as the disinformation arm or as some have put it “the paramilitary outfit for the Department of Human Resource”. Though the exact date at which "The Mill" was founded is clouded in secrecy, what is known is that it was born after the first female was appointed to head the D.H.R. Today "The Mill" is not exclusive to the female gender; its’ membership crosses gender, racial, age, and sexual orientation barriers. Its main goal and focus is to provide the D.H.R with pertinent information about employees and in many cases exploit that information for corporate gains.
During its’ infancy "The Mill" was generally headquartered at a location known to many as The Water Cooler; but as the world has changed and technology has become more readily available "The Mill's" operations are undertaken in a more clandestine manner. Through the use of email and inter-office instant messaging Mill operatives have been able to move vast quantities of (dis)information to a countless number of unsuspecting corporate audiences.
Much like the location of "The Mill" in a given corporation, its' various locales throughout corporate America have also changed with the times. In the past “The Mill” would have substations throughout a company, but would rarely converse with their counter parts in other corporations. This has all changed. Again, due to the advancement of communications "The Mill's" objectives have grown to include multi-corporation disinformation campaigns. Through the use of undercover office employees and the building of relationships a rumor or innuendo may be spread from one corporation to another. This allows for "The Mill" to exact its influence on its many victims despite if they leave their current position or not.
"The Mill" relies on its vast arsenal of operatives known as "Spooks" to achieve its many and often secret goals. At any given time in any given corporation there may be scores of "Spooks "infiltrating every corner office, board room, and cubicle. Most often a victim will never even know or think to assume that one of their own is a "Spook". Throughout the day most of them will at least attempt to carry on a cover by doing actual work; but more often than not the loose guise of production allows for them to gather vital information.
A Mill "Spook" can most often and most easily by made or outed during after hour work functions where alcohol is being consumed. A key characteristic of a "Spook" is the disdain towards intoxication. A "Spook" believes that the easiest way to gather sensitive information about a colleague is during a situation where alcohol has impaired their judgment. As a "Spook" watches its' cohorts drink he/she will bait their victim with inflammatory remarks about their employer or fellow co-workers. The idea behind leading a victim into a conversation is to generate a true and real opinion someone has about any given topic. For the "Spook" beginning a conversation affords them the pleasure of directing where the topic goes and if they are good at what they do will generate a predetermined response based on previous opinions expressed.
For those who wish to keep their guard up during these many situations, spot out those who are reluctant to accept an invitation to a Happy Hour or social gathering, but always seem to show up anyways. Usually they will order a lite-beer or glass of white wine and nurse the drink the entire time. This is a method "Spooks" employ to give the impression that they are drinking. Their hope is that as others consume multiple drinks they will forget about what others are drinking or how much they have consumed. If the "Spook" has gathered enough information he/she will most often be the first to leave a situation for fear that they too may fall victim to another "Spook" who is pushing them to drink more or stay out longer. A word to the wise is try to pick out those who are out of place and have never seemed to have a natural tendency for having fun; more often than not during an enjoyable experience they will be the ones complaining or sitting in the corner soaking up information.
The Rumor Mill is a vast and complex organization where much of the information gathered is stored away by “Sr. Spooks” for use at a later date. Rarely does a “Spook” immediately release information gathered for fear of exposure. Time is and has always been on the side of the “The Mill”. Not much is known about the inner workings of The Mill, but what is known is that it directly reports to The Department of Human Resource. More will be explained later concerning the Inter-Corporate Personnel Industrial Complex.
During its’ infancy "The Mill" was generally headquartered at a location known to many as The Water Cooler; but as the world has changed and technology has become more readily available "The Mill's" operations are undertaken in a more clandestine manner. Through the use of email and inter-office instant messaging Mill operatives have been able to move vast quantities of (dis)information to a countless number of unsuspecting corporate audiences.
Much like the location of "The Mill" in a given corporation, its' various locales throughout corporate America have also changed with the times. In the past “The Mill” would have substations throughout a company, but would rarely converse with their counter parts in other corporations. This has all changed. Again, due to the advancement of communications "The Mill's" objectives have grown to include multi-corporation disinformation campaigns. Through the use of undercover office employees and the building of relationships a rumor or innuendo may be spread from one corporation to another. This allows for "The Mill" to exact its influence on its many victims despite if they leave their current position or not.
"The Mill" relies on its vast arsenal of operatives known as "Spooks" to achieve its many and often secret goals. At any given time in any given corporation there may be scores of "Spooks "infiltrating every corner office, board room, and cubicle. Most often a victim will never even know or think to assume that one of their own is a "Spook". Throughout the day most of them will at least attempt to carry on a cover by doing actual work; but more often than not the loose guise of production allows for them to gather vital information.
A Mill "Spook" can most often and most easily by made or outed during after hour work functions where alcohol is being consumed. A key characteristic of a "Spook" is the disdain towards intoxication. A "Spook" believes that the easiest way to gather sensitive information about a colleague is during a situation where alcohol has impaired their judgment. As a "Spook" watches its' cohorts drink he/she will bait their victim with inflammatory remarks about their employer or fellow co-workers. The idea behind leading a victim into a conversation is to generate a true and real opinion someone has about any given topic. For the "Spook" beginning a conversation affords them the pleasure of directing where the topic goes and if they are good at what they do will generate a predetermined response based on previous opinions expressed.
For those who wish to keep their guard up during these many situations, spot out those who are reluctant to accept an invitation to a Happy Hour or social gathering, but always seem to show up anyways. Usually they will order a lite-beer or glass of white wine and nurse the drink the entire time. This is a method "Spooks" employ to give the impression that they are drinking. Their hope is that as others consume multiple drinks they will forget about what others are drinking or how much they have consumed. If the "Spook" has gathered enough information he/she will most often be the first to leave a situation for fear that they too may fall victim to another "Spook" who is pushing them to drink more or stay out longer. A word to the wise is try to pick out those who are out of place and have never seemed to have a natural tendency for having fun; more often than not during an enjoyable experience they will be the ones complaining or sitting in the corner soaking up information.
The Rumor Mill is a vast and complex organization where much of the information gathered is stored away by “Sr. Spooks” for use at a later date. Rarely does a “Spook” immediately release information gathered for fear of exposure. Time is and has always been on the side of the “The Mill”. Not much is known about the inner workings of The Mill, but what is known is that it directly reports to The Department of Human Resource. More will be explained later concerning the Inter-Corporate Personnel Industrial Complex.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
The Corporate Coffee Whore
Ever wonder what it takes to really climb the corporate ladder? It’s all in the coffee – forget the damn Kool-Aid. What is it about caffeine that makes an individual lose all humility? It must be their horrendous breath and yellowing teeth that make them so attractive and enticing. These people are drawn to one another in a slew of ego love making. Enjoy thirty minutes of the pleasant aroma, a quick stroll through the corporate commons, and share in the benefits of self-gratification. Copy and paste your “accomplishments” on one another and eventually the disease will spread like wild fire. Individuals quickly notice the success rate of the coffee lovers and adapt to the model behavior. Disregard actual merits and invest in illusion. Your name will surely surface above the rest because you have strategically coffeed, cajoled and caressed your way to the top.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
I will be here for the End...
The Corporate World is Fucked up, and the last hold out for any sort of actual production or accomplishment, inevitably arises from one or two departments and beyond that perhaps only 5 to 6 people in the department are driving this success, while Leadership refuses to admit to the real problems. They’re content to pat themselves on the back and run half ass dog and pony shows through all-staff meetings touting that crap as a solution.
This is my Corporate Environment -
Seriously when you can’t hire people fast enough to fill the spots of the people who are quitting maybe it’s time to admit there’s a REAL FUCKING Problem with workload. God I am so tired of the bullshit… yet it will be funny when my entire team quits… save of course the 2 true believers, the one inexperienced newbie and the idealist (10%er as labeled by this corp).
I will be here to see the day they say, “Oh god there’s no one to do the huge piles of work” and the walls fall down around this shoddily managed department. Yet no matter how I pleaded, I was never allowed the appropriate resources or power to make any real changes. I was deemed too negative by their ‘perception’ and my ideas were seen as too broad and expansive an undertaking. Meanwhile, all of management was too busy congratulating themselves for a workplace accomplishment equivalent to a toddler taking a dump in a diaper, to bother including any factual quantifiers in their investigations into the issues at hand.
Finally this will be resolved, but only when there is no one left to blame. Then Management will be naked and exposed for all to see as though they were a junior high student who had just been pantsed. And I will laugh hardily with the knowledge that this day would come.
This is my Corporate Environment -
Seriously when you can’t hire people fast enough to fill the spots of the people who are quitting maybe it’s time to admit there’s a REAL FUCKING Problem with workload. God I am so tired of the bullshit… yet it will be funny when my entire team quits… save of course the 2 true believers, the one inexperienced newbie and the idealist (10%er as labeled by this corp).
I will be here to see the day they say, “Oh god there’s no one to do the huge piles of work” and the walls fall down around this shoddily managed department. Yet no matter how I pleaded, I was never allowed the appropriate resources or power to make any real changes. I was deemed too negative by their ‘perception’ and my ideas were seen as too broad and expansive an undertaking. Meanwhile, all of management was too busy congratulating themselves for a workplace accomplishment equivalent to a toddler taking a dump in a diaper, to bother including any factual quantifiers in their investigations into the issues at hand.
Finally this will be resolved, but only when there is no one left to blame. Then Management will be naked and exposed for all to see as though they were a junior high student who had just been pantsed. And I will laugh hardily with the knowledge that this day would come.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Saturday, January 27, 2007
The meaning of life
If you are not happy don't toil in self-pity and complain, do something to change the situation. Don't make excuses for not changing a particular aspect of your life for fear of what might happen.
Our lives are far too short to spend it worthlessly trying to impress others when the one person we should always strive to impress is ourself.
As I sit here I think of all of my friends who have married themselves away to others at the age of 22 or 23, accepted their fate as an office jockey, and planted themselves a quarter million dollar seed in the suburbs.
Now this is all fine if they were in love with the life they live, but many are not and I am subjected to listen to their complaints. To that I say: Sack up!
Your 20's ought to be spent living for yourself, because until you live for yourself and make yourself happy you can never make another person happy. But if you start your life unfulfilled and not entirely happy with yourself, it is unfair to both you and those around you.
For all those who are Stuck, look at what you want or wanted out of life when you were younger and less jaded and actually take the steps to make that happen.
The path may be difficult and humbling but if you make it through and find yourself happy you have just found the meaning to life.
Our lives are far too short to spend it worthlessly trying to impress others when the one person we should always strive to impress is ourself.
As I sit here I think of all of my friends who have married themselves away to others at the age of 22 or 23, accepted their fate as an office jockey, and planted themselves a quarter million dollar seed in the suburbs.
Now this is all fine if they were in love with the life they live, but many are not and I am subjected to listen to their complaints. To that I say: Sack up!
Your 20's ought to be spent living for yourself, because until you live for yourself and make yourself happy you can never make another person happy. But if you start your life unfulfilled and not entirely happy with yourself, it is unfair to both you and those around you.
For all those who are Stuck, look at what you want or wanted out of life when you were younger and less jaded and actually take the steps to make that happen.
The path may be difficult and humbling but if you make it through and find yourself happy you have just found the meaning to life.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Round Peg, Square Hole
The following is a public service announcement on behalf of management…
Attention all thoughtless drones…
Forget your individuality and any diverse thought you may have had…
I just spent 15 minutes of a half hour status discussing how perception is everything and while it’s important to build your own brand we need to be aware of how other people view us. And I should change my quote… which sadly I’ve submitted to doing.
However, I couldn’t find any good quotes from Ken Lay or Skilling… any ideas??
I really want a quote that sounds good but comes from the vilest person on earth simply to prove my point. So when I hear feedback …. “Oh Darian your new quote is much much better!” I can reply with thanks, “Michael Jackson said it while he was on trial for child abuse! Glad you like it!”, or “Skilling said that while he was working at Enron!”
Attention all thoughtless drones…
Forget your individuality and any diverse thought you may have had…
I just spent 15 minutes of a half hour status discussing how perception is everything and while it’s important to build your own brand we need to be aware of how other people view us. And I should change my quote… which sadly I’ve submitted to doing.
However, I couldn’t find any good quotes from Ken Lay or Skilling… any ideas??
I really want a quote that sounds good but comes from the vilest person on earth simply to prove my point. So when I hear feedback …. “Oh Darian your new quote is much much better!” I can reply with thanks, “Michael Jackson said it while he was on trial for child abuse! Glad you like it!”, or “Skilling said that while he was working at Enron!”
Regurgitating to Avoid Proliferating
My Response to the following accusatory statement: "There is no perception is reality here, that motto is bullshit,"
I would never agree with ‘perception is reality’ or much else of the BS HR likes to pass out. HR holds these meetings, acting as though the dispersal of corporate slogans were akin in nobility and import to the cause of ending world hunger.
I’m not taking the pill, or drinking the koolaid. I go to the meetings and smile and when they pass out the pills (BS slogans & propaganda), I put the little colorful and shiny distractions in my mouth and hide them under my tongue. I smile through my pearly white teeth and when the meeting is over I make way to the restroom and spit them out in the Toilet, where they belong.
I don’t care for BS, I only care for doing a job and doing it better than anyone else.
I would never agree with ‘perception is reality’ or much else of the BS HR likes to pass out. HR holds these meetings, acting as though the dispersal of corporate slogans were akin in nobility and import to the cause of ending world hunger.
I’m not taking the pill, or drinking the koolaid. I go to the meetings and smile and when they pass out the pills (BS slogans & propaganda), I put the little colorful and shiny distractions in my mouth and hide them under my tongue. I smile through my pearly white teeth and when the meeting is over I make way to the restroom and spit them out in the Toilet, where they belong.
I don’t care for BS, I only care for doing a job and doing it better than anyone else.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
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.
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.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
And I Quote...
When I interviewed here, Everyone really LOVED their job. I thought either this is a cult or a really great place to work.
I drank the koolaid.
I drank the koolaid.
Friday, November 17, 2006
They call it 'Cubicle'...
Whisper heard in the darkness... "Trundle Boy where are you?"
Old Friend or new foe? I can no longer see past the blinding flourescent glow that is my PC...
The voice sounds that of my old friend and so I send my response back out to the infinite blackness of cyberspace...
"Help me. I am trapped…"
The voice is heard again... "Trundle boy, use your Trundle Vision to escape!"
My reply is meek, "All attempts to escape have failed. Tall blond Nordic people are holding me hostage on a regular basis in something they refer to as “cubicle”. I am released one hour a day and then again late at night. They allow me to leave only for food and nourishment, however they have tagged me as though a wild animal and I am required to carry around a card bearing my picture and captive ID #, I believe this is so that they can locate me and make sure I do not attempt escape.
I have determined that your father is somehow involved in my current entrapment as I have located his former insignia or rather coat of arms “Steelcase” etched upon my cell walls.
Please help me…
God Speed!"
Old Friend or new foe? I can no longer see past the blinding flourescent glow that is my PC...
The voice sounds that of my old friend and so I send my response back out to the infinite blackness of cyberspace...
"Help me. I am trapped…"
The voice is heard again... "Trundle boy, use your Trundle Vision to escape!"
My reply is meek, "All attempts to escape have failed. Tall blond Nordic people are holding me hostage on a regular basis in something they refer to as “cubicle”. I am released one hour a day and then again late at night. They allow me to leave only for food and nourishment, however they have tagged me as though a wild animal and I am required to carry around a card bearing my picture and captive ID #, I believe this is so that they can locate me and make sure I do not attempt escape.
I have determined that your father is somehow involved in my current entrapment as I have located his former insignia or rather coat of arms “Steelcase” etched upon my cell walls.
Please help me…
God Speed!"
Friday, September 22, 2006
One Step Forward, Two Steps Back
Billy Madison: [grabs 3rd grader's face and whispers] Don't you say that. Don't you ever say that. Stay here. Stay here as long as you can. For the love of God, cherish it. You have to cherish it.
Why did I Graduate? Graduation is like marching through a new door, you're filled with curiosity, dreams of grandeur, the professors promised you could change the world. Anything could be on the other side of that door! Just imagine! Up to this point, each time you moved forward something improved. You've been learning and finding new and fantastic things all along the way, from riding bikes to driving, from making out to sex, from mountain dew to beer, from cliques to true friends, from cooties to girlfriends to lovers, from birthday sleep overs to bars, everything gets better! What's next!? Your mind is reeling in anticipation, you look great in the gown, who cares! I want to take the leap, can we speed this line up?!
Big Mistake!
What happened... I'm back in... High-school... back to cliques and gossip, back to desks you never leave, where you left parents you've picked up managers, you went from total freedom to total tyranny. People no longer like you because you're a good person, they only like you if you can get them somewhere. Total honesty dissolved into a batch of lies that HR has kindly labeled into some mindless dribble of a motto, "perception is reality". Grandiose ideas are things you will now be stepped on for having and the beauty of individuality is replaced with a constant drive for conformity. Happiness has been replaced by the need for a regular paycheck.
Why did they lie? Why would the professors push us out to... to this?!
2 years ago even my rainy days were so beautiful...
sleeping in, breakfast, flipping through channels, deciding to skip class (call it a rain day), reading for a few hours, maybe a nap, head to the gym, dinner, more tv, then off to the bar
Why did I Graduate? Graduation is like marching through a new door, you're filled with curiosity, dreams of grandeur, the professors promised you could change the world. Anything could be on the other side of that door! Just imagine! Up to this point, each time you moved forward something improved. You've been learning and finding new and fantastic things all along the way, from riding bikes to driving, from making out to sex, from mountain dew to beer, from cliques to true friends, from cooties to girlfriends to lovers, from birthday sleep overs to bars, everything gets better! What's next!? Your mind is reeling in anticipation, you look great in the gown, who cares! I want to take the leap, can we speed this line up?!
Big Mistake!
What happened... I'm back in... High-school... back to cliques and gossip, back to desks you never leave, where you left parents you've picked up managers, you went from total freedom to total tyranny. People no longer like you because you're a good person, they only like you if you can get them somewhere. Total honesty dissolved into a batch of lies that HR has kindly labeled into some mindless dribble of a motto, "perception is reality". Grandiose ideas are things you will now be stepped on for having and the beauty of individuality is replaced with a constant drive for conformity. Happiness has been replaced by the need for a regular paycheck.
Why did they lie? Why would the professors push us out to... to this?!
2 years ago even my rainy days were so beautiful...
sleeping in, breakfast, flipping through channels, deciding to skip class (call it a rain day), reading for a few hours, maybe a nap, head to the gym, dinner, more tv, then off to the bar
Monday, September 18, 2006
The Corporate Stooge Game
Definition of Stooge: A person of unquestioning obedience.
* These actions listed below are of a Stooge nature and are deserved of a Stooge point. The idea behind the Stooge point is to call out actions deemed Stooge-worthy, thus mock-able offenses. Points will be accumulated per month and tallied. The sorry bastard with the most points will be responsible for a night of heavy alcohol consumption and a possible recipient of shameful acts.
* These actions listed below are of a Stooge nature and are deserved of a Stooge point. The idea behind the Stooge point is to call out actions deemed Stooge-worthy, thus mock-able offenses. Points will be accumulated per month and tallied. The sorry bastard with the most points will be responsible for a night of heavy alcohol consumption and a possible recipient of shameful acts.
1. If a person arrives at work prior to 7:00 a.m., 1 point will be awarded.
2. If a person leaves work after 6:00 p.m., 1 point will be awarded.
3. If a person stays later than 5:00 p.m. on a Friday, 1 point will be awarded.
4. If a person comes into work on either Saturday or Sunday, 1 point will be awarded.
5. If one is caught during an All-Staff enthusiastically clapping, 1 point will be awarded.
6. If one is over heard uttering the phrase “help me understand”, 1 point will be awarded.
7. If one is caught having lunch at their desk, 2 points will be awarded.
8. If one has more than 4 coffees (promotion whoring) in 1 month, 2 points will be awarded.
9. If one is caught sending out helpful hints, key learning, best practices, or other informative emails to co-workers, 2 points will be awarded.
10. If a person has less than 5 emails in their inbox, 2 points will be awarded.
11. If a person receives a promotion (warranted or not), 5 points will be awarded.
2. If a person leaves work after 6:00 p.m., 1 point will be awarded.
3. If a person stays later than 5:00 p.m. on a Friday, 1 point will be awarded.
4. If a person comes into work on either Saturday or Sunday, 1 point will be awarded.
5. If one is caught during an All-Staff enthusiastically clapping, 1 point will be awarded.
6. If one is over heard uttering the phrase “help me understand”, 1 point will be awarded.
7. If one is caught having lunch at their desk, 2 points will be awarded.
8. If one has more than 4 coffees (promotion whoring) in 1 month, 2 points will be awarded.
9. If one is caught sending out helpful hints, key learning, best practices, or other informative emails to co-workers, 2 points will be awarded.
10. If a person has less than 5 emails in their inbox, 2 points will be awarded.
11. If a person receives a promotion (warranted or not), 5 points will be awarded.
Currently there are 11 point worthy offenses but don’t worry others will arise
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Introducing the Explorers.. The Bottom 10%
We are the Idealists! We are the Visionaries... We Dream in Colors You've Never seen...
We Created and Built the Worlds Greatest Companies. When we Lead, Nothing is Impossible.
Except for Explorers to be on the top they have to build their empire from the ground up. The other types will never let us through their ranks, they’re scared of our potential and they’re scared of great ideas, like Gizmo was scared of bright lights. They call us not by our true title but have given us their own, bestowed by those in corporate America who fear us, ‘The Bottom Ten Percent’.
Steve Jobs is an Explorer. Steve Jobs is a Ten %er.
Steve built his company from a lowly arcade vendor to a multinational electronics empire. And his creation is wondrous! Don’t get me wrong one day he’ll leave again and they’ll install another boring process improving leader who will steer the company toward the corporate equivalent of an iceberg. The leak will start ever so slowly, no one will notice but the company will rot from the inside. Sure you’ll have a few Explorers trying desperately to bail the water out, but everyone on the upper deck will be too self obsessed and self important to even notice something is wrong they’ll just continue their ass kissing while they hang on to each others coattails. They will all be holding the coattails of the one in front of them spinning round and round in circles like some sick form of Greek dance. Round and round they’ll go. Until the Explorers, deep in the bowels of the ship, finally snap and taking the first life boats row off in search of a new start.
But for now… while Steve is at the helm, the ship is beautiful, the engine powerful, and the places to go are as endless as the bits of light flickering across the water shone from the orange sun teetering on the edge of the horizon.
We Created and Built the Worlds Greatest Companies. When we Lead, Nothing is Impossible.
Except for Explorers to be on the top they have to build their empire from the ground up. The other types will never let us through their ranks, they’re scared of our potential and they’re scared of great ideas, like Gizmo was scared of bright lights. They call us not by our true title but have given us their own, bestowed by those in corporate America who fear us, ‘The Bottom Ten Percent’.
Steve Jobs is an Explorer. Steve Jobs is a Ten %er.
Steve built his company from a lowly arcade vendor to a multinational electronics empire. And his creation is wondrous! Don’t get me wrong one day he’ll leave again and they’ll install another boring process improving leader who will steer the company toward the corporate equivalent of an iceberg. The leak will start ever so slowly, no one will notice but the company will rot from the inside. Sure you’ll have a few Explorers trying desperately to bail the water out, but everyone on the upper deck will be too self obsessed and self important to even notice something is wrong they’ll just continue their ass kissing while they hang on to each others coattails. They will all be holding the coattails of the one in front of them spinning round and round in circles like some sick form of Greek dance. Round and round they’ll go. Until the Explorers, deep in the bowels of the ship, finally snap and taking the first life boats row off in search of a new start.
But for now… while Steve is at the helm, the ship is beautiful, the engine powerful, and the places to go are as endless as the bits of light flickering across the water shone from the orange sun teetering on the edge of the horizon.
Warning: Somewhere deep inside of you...
A Little Piece of your Soul Just Died... A Little Piece of your Individuality Just Washed Away... But it's cool you have a Regular Paycheck Right?!
So Question is... How Come Your Soul is so Affordable?
Corporate America had to pay Tom Anderson 580 Million Dollars for His Soul, for HIS MySpace... Tom, you were my friend... why did you have to sell out? Why did you have to give up on us for a few dollars?! Why did you have to give it to them!? It was yours... It was you... And it was Beautiful! Were you still so afraid of being in poverty again?
Nevermind... I know the Answer... Yes, It's Terrifying, That's Why We Did It.
Yet the Truth is that no matter how scared we are of The Cogs, The Other 90%. They are Far More Threatened by Us. They Need to Limit Us, to Hold Us in Check, They Know if We Ever Find a Way to Get Free, To Escape. There is No Limit to What We are Capable of Creating. And When we Build A Better Empire Elsewhere, their Disgusting Facade, they call a Corporation will Begin to Crack.
Beware...
So Question is... How Come Your Soul is so Affordable?
Corporate America had to pay Tom Anderson 580 Million Dollars for His Soul, for HIS MySpace... Tom, you were my friend... why did you have to sell out? Why did you have to give up on us for a few dollars?! Why did you have to give it to them!? It was yours... It was you... And it was Beautiful! Were you still so afraid of being in poverty again?Nevermind... I know the Answer... Yes, It's Terrifying, That's Why We Did It.
Yet the Truth is that no matter how scared we are of The Cogs, The Other 90%. They are Far More Threatened by Us. They Need to Limit Us, to Hold Us in Check, They Know if We Ever Find a Way to Get Free, To Escape. There is No Limit to What We are Capable of Creating. And When we Build A Better Empire Elsewhere, their Disgusting Facade, they call a Corporation will Begin to Crack.
Beware...
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
One year later...
From an actual work email sent from San to Darian & Sydney.
A whole year has now gone by since we first entered into the hollowed institution known as Corporate America.
At the time we were so young and arrived with so much life and idealism. We came with the thoughts of making a difference, aiding in the expansion of a vast empire, honing our skills in the world of business, and taking our first steps onto a path which would lead to wealth and privilege.
Each of us came from separate backgrounds, but arrived at the doorstep of the Fortune 500. It was the end all and be all of accomplishments; a salary comparable to the medium income of a 4 person family living in the United States, instant praise from friend and family alike, and an air of arrogance with every strut. Once inside the halls of Corporate America we smiled and enthusiastically greeted all as if trying to convince a jury of guilt or innocence. We constantly fretted over our image and perception. Fought over the validity of conversations had with upper-management. Jockeyed for assignments in an effort to prove one’s self worth in front of middle management. Scheduled meetings with those we deemed important in the our placement selection process, even though we were promised office politics was not a company trait
If it came down to it we would have to throw each other in front of a bus in an effort to advance…
This is our life. This is what happiness looks likes
One Year Later…
Stuck.
A whole year has now gone by since we first entered into the hollowed institution known as Corporate America.
At the time we were so young and arrived with so much life and idealism. We came with the thoughts of making a difference, aiding in the expansion of a vast empire, honing our skills in the world of business, and taking our first steps onto a path which would lead to wealth and privilege.
Each of us came from separate backgrounds, but arrived at the doorstep of the Fortune 500. It was the end all and be all of accomplishments; a salary comparable to the medium income of a 4 person family living in the United States, instant praise from friend and family alike, and an air of arrogance with every strut. Once inside the halls of Corporate America we smiled and enthusiastically greeted all as if trying to convince a jury of guilt or innocence. We constantly fretted over our image and perception. Fought over the validity of conversations had with upper-management. Jockeyed for assignments in an effort to prove one’s self worth in front of middle management. Scheduled meetings with those we deemed important in the our placement selection process, even though we were promised office politics was not a company trait
If it came down to it we would have to throw each other in front of a bus in an effort to advance…
This is our life. This is what happiness looks likes
One Year Later…
Stuck.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Random Thought Provoked
Andrea Peyser is really homely, but makes herself feel better by attacking the looks of a female obviously more attractive than herself. Very Darwinian. Attack your competition and convince the boys that despite your akward appearance and poor genetic structure, you are somehow more deserving of everyone's attention.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Where Good Ideas go to Die
This is why companies grow best when Idea men are in charge! They hand out beautiful ideas and leave it up to the naysayer to execute.
Bad Idea?! All of Walt’s Accountants said those words.
Bad Idea? Someone at Apple said those words. Then Steve came back. Oh, but integrating I-tunes download stations into our stores is a bad idea right?! Because Cd’s are selling so well!
So what happens when everyone agrees?!
Great Idea! Someone at GM … agreeing to continue to PAY worthless slobs they already fired to sit in a white room in Flint and do NOTHING!
And well we’re at it… the world is still FLAT.
And the Sun revolves around it! The Inquisition Definitely was right in EXECUTING Galileo, way to go Christianity! Because the Pope has GOD’s word and GOD is infallible!
And Man will never FLY!
Bad Idea?! All of Walt’s Accountants said those words.
Bad Idea? Someone at Apple said those words. Then Steve came back. Oh, but integrating I-tunes download stations into our stores is a bad idea right?! Because Cd’s are selling so well!
So what happens when everyone agrees?!
Great Idea! Someone at GM … agreeing to continue to PAY worthless slobs they already fired to sit in a white room in Flint and do NOTHING!
And well we’re at it… the world is still FLAT.
And the Sun revolves around it! The Inquisition Definitely was right in EXECUTING Galileo, way to go Christianity! Because the Pope has GOD’s word and GOD is infallible!
And Man will never FLY!
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Is this my life?
I have been standing in the same place for the last 8 months of my life…
Monday through Friday of any given week I feel as though I live the same day over and over. Nothing ever seems to change.
I wake at 5:55 a.m. to the sound of a blaring alarm clock, which sits on a bookcase next to my bed. Each morning in an effort to cease this most annoying of sounds I leap from my bed, which has no frame, to the snooze button. Once out of the shock from being awoken from a life I only wish I had, I head to the shower.
I am generally in the shower from 6:00 a.m. to 6:10 a.m. I then brush my teeth and apply personal hygiene products. I get back to my bedroom by 6:12 a.m. to drape myself in a suit and tie. I stopped bothering to iron my shirts or ties. I let them judge me. But I do take pride in the attire I have accumulated these past 8 months.
Once dressed I am ready for breakfast. I lie; I don’t have time for breakfast before I have to hurriedly leave my apartment to catch the bus. Two blocks down from the apartment which I share with a friend from High School, the bus arrives promptly at 6:32 a.m. I arrive at the bus stop 5 minutes before the bus pulls up. With those precious 5 minutes I am able to read the front page of the Wall Street Journal.
Often I am met at the bus stop by a woman who rides all of 8 blocks each morning. This woman pays $2.50 in the morning and $2.50 in the evening for a 16 block roundtrip. I have a company sponsored metro-transit pass, which comes out of my salary at a reduced rate. Most days she sports a Grateful Dead concert t-shirt and feverously inhales Turkish Golds prior to embarking. Her smoke consumes the bus stop and soils my suits.
When the bus arrives I am officially off. I sit in the front row next to a woman who appears to have Downs Syndrome. I know for a fact that this must be a cruel joke life has played on her because she is a receptionist at the downtown campus of a local law school; she also knows how to operate a cell phone. To drown out the sound of the others passengers and the extremely talkative drive I listen to my ipod. As I let the music consume my thoughts I skim through the major stories of the day.
The bus ride takes all of 12 minutes. I disembark several blocks from where I work. In between leaving the warm confines of the bus and the turnstiles I pass to enter the company campus I have 5 minutes left to myself.
As the minutes wane away I make it to the revolving door and enter a large atrium. I am met by scores of others who have found their way to the same destination. I pass through security and grab a cup of water for my ride up the elevator. Once on the 6th floor of Southern tower of ___________ Corporation I pass through yet another set up security check points. It is 6:55 a.m. by the time I reach my desk. Bring it on!
For the next 10 to 12 hours I stare into a flickering computer monitor and produce.
I am a Business Analyst. When posed with the question “what do you do?” I say “I analyze business”. I am clever. But what do I really do?
The first part of my day belongs to answering emails which have been received since leaving my command post 12 hours previously. I must continually check my Outlook account so as to not allow it to crash under the weight and volume of corporate correspondence. In between writing and responding to various emails I dash from one meeting to the next. Often you can find me starring blankly out the window as a collogue tries to justify the need for more meetings. Once free from the morning meetings I head back to my grey cubicle to prepare for statuses regarding my public perception.
At __________ Corporate the motto is “Perception is Reality”. If only they had read Blink (a great work about the follies of impression and perception). What the motto entails the employees to do is to outwardly express happiness and glee. If not, the assumption is made you are under producing, thus qualifying yourself a ticket out. Once I make it through two or three statuses I find it time to head to lunch. Many days I find it necessary to take lunch at my desk, as a way to show I am dedicated to the job I am tasked with. I am not alone. If I do decide to leave the confines of my cube I roam the skyways in search of the perfect submarine sandwich.
Following lunch I block out time to perform my actual job. Most often during this period of time I flip through various websites or constantly read and re-read the DrudgeReport. I also converse with fellow cohorts through inter-office Instant Messenger. What has allowed me this freedom? I have become a master of delegation. I know who to pass along my responsibilities to in an effort to free up my own time. After several hours of passing one set of tasks across the company and receiving the completed work of another set of tasks I send out emails to middle management showing them the fruits of my labor.
As 6:00 p.m. rolls around I pack up my belongings for the day and head out. I generally leave without anyone knowing.I find it annoying telling people to have a great night when I know they won’t. I head back through each security check point and stroll off to the bus stop. This time at the bus stop I am met with a various crowd of people: The homeless with their OCD – the young black men shouting at the top of their lungs in the back of the bus (I don’t think they got the memo about the seating arrangements) – the teenage mothers with their gaggle of children – the obese women who insist sitting in chairs not federally approved to hold their weight - and other young professionals whose heads face the ground as they sit silent in their seats. I finally arrive back at my apartment by 6:33 p.m. Rinse, wash, repeat…
- I actively pursued the career that I currently hold. I did everything in my power to land a spot on ________ Corporations roster. Once I got in I even bragged about where I worked and how much I made. For the first month on the job I told myself this is what I want and I was thankful to be here. I am 23 years old. I work 75 hours a week. I come into work on the weekends. I live inside the grey walls of a cubicle.
Is this my life?
Monday through Friday of any given week I feel as though I live the same day over and over. Nothing ever seems to change.
I wake at 5:55 a.m. to the sound of a blaring alarm clock, which sits on a bookcase next to my bed. Each morning in an effort to cease this most annoying of sounds I leap from my bed, which has no frame, to the snooze button. Once out of the shock from being awoken from a life I only wish I had, I head to the shower.
I am generally in the shower from 6:00 a.m. to 6:10 a.m. I then brush my teeth and apply personal hygiene products. I get back to my bedroom by 6:12 a.m. to drape myself in a suit and tie. I stopped bothering to iron my shirts or ties. I let them judge me. But I do take pride in the attire I have accumulated these past 8 months.
Once dressed I am ready for breakfast. I lie; I don’t have time for breakfast before I have to hurriedly leave my apartment to catch the bus. Two blocks down from the apartment which I share with a friend from High School, the bus arrives promptly at 6:32 a.m. I arrive at the bus stop 5 minutes before the bus pulls up. With those precious 5 minutes I am able to read the front page of the Wall Street Journal.
Often I am met at the bus stop by a woman who rides all of 8 blocks each morning. This woman pays $2.50 in the morning and $2.50 in the evening for a 16 block roundtrip. I have a company sponsored metro-transit pass, which comes out of my salary at a reduced rate. Most days she sports a Grateful Dead concert t-shirt and feverously inhales Turkish Golds prior to embarking. Her smoke consumes the bus stop and soils my suits.
When the bus arrives I am officially off. I sit in the front row next to a woman who appears to have Downs Syndrome. I know for a fact that this must be a cruel joke life has played on her because she is a receptionist at the downtown campus of a local law school; she also knows how to operate a cell phone. To drown out the sound of the others passengers and the extremely talkative drive I listen to my ipod. As I let the music consume my thoughts I skim through the major stories of the day.
The bus ride takes all of 12 minutes. I disembark several blocks from where I work. In between leaving the warm confines of the bus and the turnstiles I pass to enter the company campus I have 5 minutes left to myself.
As the minutes wane away I make it to the revolving door and enter a large atrium. I am met by scores of others who have found their way to the same destination. I pass through security and grab a cup of water for my ride up the elevator. Once on the 6th floor of Southern tower of ___________ Corporation I pass through yet another set up security check points. It is 6:55 a.m. by the time I reach my desk. Bring it on!
For the next 10 to 12 hours I stare into a flickering computer monitor and produce.
I am a Business Analyst. When posed with the question “what do you do?” I say “I analyze business”. I am clever. But what do I really do?
The first part of my day belongs to answering emails which have been received since leaving my command post 12 hours previously. I must continually check my Outlook account so as to not allow it to crash under the weight and volume of corporate correspondence. In between writing and responding to various emails I dash from one meeting to the next. Often you can find me starring blankly out the window as a collogue tries to justify the need for more meetings. Once free from the morning meetings I head back to my grey cubicle to prepare for statuses regarding my public perception.
At __________ Corporate the motto is “Perception is Reality”. If only they had read Blink (a great work about the follies of impression and perception). What the motto entails the employees to do is to outwardly express happiness and glee. If not, the assumption is made you are under producing, thus qualifying yourself a ticket out. Once I make it through two or three statuses I find it time to head to lunch. Many days I find it necessary to take lunch at my desk, as a way to show I am dedicated to the job I am tasked with. I am not alone. If I do decide to leave the confines of my cube I roam the skyways in search of the perfect submarine sandwich.
Following lunch I block out time to perform my actual job. Most often during this period of time I flip through various websites or constantly read and re-read the DrudgeReport. I also converse with fellow cohorts through inter-office Instant Messenger. What has allowed me this freedom? I have become a master of delegation. I know who to pass along my responsibilities to in an effort to free up my own time. After several hours of passing one set of tasks across the company and receiving the completed work of another set of tasks I send out emails to middle management showing them the fruits of my labor.
As 6:00 p.m. rolls around I pack up my belongings for the day and head out. I generally leave without anyone knowing.I find it annoying telling people to have a great night when I know they won’t. I head back through each security check point and stroll off to the bus stop. This time at the bus stop I am met with a various crowd of people: The homeless with their OCD – the young black men shouting at the top of their lungs in the back of the bus (I don’t think they got the memo about the seating arrangements) – the teenage mothers with their gaggle of children – the obese women who insist sitting in chairs not federally approved to hold their weight - and other young professionals whose heads face the ground as they sit silent in their seats. I finally arrive back at my apartment by 6:33 p.m. Rinse, wash, repeat…
- I actively pursued the career that I currently hold. I did everything in my power to land a spot on ________ Corporations roster. Once I got in I even bragged about where I worked and how much I made. For the first month on the job I told myself this is what I want and I was thankful to be here. I am 23 years old. I work 75 hours a week. I come into work on the weekends. I live inside the grey walls of a cubicle.
Is this my life?
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