October 29, 2010
My Brush with the Law
Over the weekend, I attended a HUGE doll and toy show at a state fairground with Husband, Big Gay Joe, Lola, and Mr. Lola (who probably doesn't need a name other than that, as he is super-reserved and will probably never annoy or shock me enough to warrant a post of his own -- sorry, but "really sweet" just doesn't win you a place on Wenchie's blog!).
And to say that we all attended the same event at the same time does not mean that we were actually there together, no, no, no. Husband looked at antique farm toys (I KNOW!), Mr. Lola scoured the vintage Star Wars collectibles for something he may not yet own, Joe fussed over the antique dolls, which Lola and I dug through the bargain bins of Barbies and Barbie outfits.
Well, now that I've brought it up, and although it has nothing to do with the actual point of this blog, I'll tell you what we all bought. Husband bought an adorable, red, toy tractor and haggled the guy down from $45 to $30! I'm so proud! Mr. Lola found a rare Princess Leia action figure (they're not dolls when straight men play with them). Joe bought a creepy bag of vintage Ginny parts and hopes to piece together four or more Ginnys from them. Lola scored a mint, Sonny Bono doll, and people, it is the SHIT, lemme tell ya! And I got a Silkstone Barbie-of-color that I'd been wanting for a while now. Need a soul sistah on my shelf!
Anyhoo, as I was driving Joe home from our little excursion, doing about 20 mph down a very crowded, two-land Chicago street, I noticed a truck with flashing lights behind me. I pulled over so the ambulance could pass,... and the damn thing pulled behind me! I got pulled over! Me! Wenchie! Model citizen! Upstanding contributor to society!
But since it's never a good idea to express one's outrage to the po-po, I turned off my car, got our my driver's license and insurance card, and put my hands on the wheel and ten and two. I didn't want to give Officer Friendly any reason to draw his weapon and pistol-whip me.
Thank you, dear Husband of mine, for losing the license plate renewal sticker application and emmissions test notice on your disturbingly untidy desk. For it brought Officer Gorgeous into my life, if only for a brief time. He was courteous, soft-spoken, and completely professional, and his blue eyes danced and he explained that he'd just give me a warning instead of taking my driver's license and issuing a ticket. Thank you, Pretty Po-Po! I'll go get my sticker tomorrow!
I pulled away, after putting on my turn signal and checking my mirrors and blindspot. Joe had wisely kept silent during the entire exchange and waited until I closed the window before speaking up.
"Too bad he let you off. I was going to offer to blow him to get you out of a ticket."
Isn't that sweet? He is, indeed, a true friend.
Posted at 11:53 AM | Comments (1)October 26, 2010
Lunch Menu
Where I work, the first Monday of every November is All-Staff Day. This usually means some sort of off-site, team-building, food-eating, fun-having, skills-sharpening, game-playing, leaving-early day. Lame, yeah, but it sure beats workin' for a livin'.
Now, since I am Lowly, Indentured, Irrelevent, Invisible Temp-Turned-Contract-Employee, I have never actually attended an All-Staff Day. Depending on who I was temping for at the time, I was either allowed to be at work answering phones and blogging on company time while everyone else was all-staffing, or I was given the day off. Fine. Whatever.
But this year, since Head Boss and PhD Boss are so hellbent on getting me brought on permanantly (which is never going to happen), I'm expected to attend. Ohhhhh, and it gets better.
Since we have absolutely no budget to be nice to the employees, our formerly-tolerable All-Staff Day has been reduced to prayer, communion, and "a simple lunch," after which... we get to return to work until our regular quitting time! No traditional early dismissal! To the shock of no one, the year that Wenchie is actually invited to a company outing, it's turned into a suck-fest of lame-tastic proportions.
Now. One of the guys on the all-staff planning committee is a guy who regularly hangs out with my tiny department. And even more lately, since the rest of his department was laid-off, and he is now king of a whole row of empty cubicles. Sucks to be him. He's a great guy, and he let us in on some of what went down in the planning committee meeting.
As you know, we are a religious organization. However, not all of the employees are of the denomination that we represent. In fact, probably half are are not. So, for the big, all-staff eucharist, the Big Cheese was adamant that the service be interfaith-friendly, embracing not only our fellow Christians, but our token Jew and our token Muslim as well.
Great, wonderful. Very kind of them to be sensitive to that. In fact, I'm kind of looking forward to seeing what they've come up with. Empty Cubicle King Guy described it as "funky," which means it's sure to upset a few people, and that's always a good time in my book.
But the funny part is this.
After our Jew-and-Muslim-friendly, interfaith service, we are having pulled pork sammiches for lunch.
Pulled. Pork.
I almost peed myself. Yeah, it's quite an impressive think tank we have going on over here, folks. I'm so proud.
And when Padawan asked what Empty Cube King Guy reported as the vegetarian alternative to our pork lunch, I had to tell her -- nada. Zilch. Zip. Zero.
I guess Padawan will be making new friends on Monday when she takes a Jew and a Muslim out to lunch.
Posted at 08:59 PM | Comments (4)October 21, 2010
Just Keep Going
If PhD Boss needs to get to the airport during normal working hours, I drive him. We work only ten minutes from O'Hare, and being behind the wheel sure beats being behind a desk. (At least until January. Then he's on his own.)
Yesterday was a lovely day in Chicagoland. Seventy degrees, mostly sunny, the surrounding forest preserves in full fall color. Delightful! So I was glad for the opportunity to cart PhD's sorry (nearly non-existant) ass to the airport. (But I still made it seem like I was doing him a huge favor. Don't worry -- I haven't gone soft on him.)
The pressures of the recent lay-offs and their subsequent fall-out have not abated, leading PhD to wax poetic and wistful during the car ride.
PhD: We shouldn't go to the airport. We should just... keep going.
PW: West? We should keep going west?
PhD: Yyyeeeaahhh...
PW: I don't want to go west. I'd rather go north.
PhD: Fine. North then.
PW: I could be on 294 North in five minutes.
PhD: Perfect! We could just drive up to northern Wisconsin.
PW: [Wait a minute...]
PhD: Or Minnesota!
PW: [Um... is he suggesting that we run away together?]
PhD: We'll stop for lunch along the way...
PW: [Holy crap. I don't know what's more disturbing...]
PhD: Do a little antiquing...
PW: [The fact that he appears to be fantasizing about me...]
PhD: Then we could just park the car by a lake somewhere...
PW: [Or the fact that he's doing it RIGHT NEXT TO ME.]
PhD: Have some apple crisp and a bottle of wine...
PW: [Or C, the fact that we apparently have so much in common!]
PhD: Sleep out under the stars...
PW: [Does he even remember that I'm here?]
PhD: Drive back tomorrow...
PW: United or American?
PhD: What?
PW: Are you flying United or American?
PhD: I don't know! You made the reservations!
PW: [And balance is restored to the universerve, God be praised.] We're here. Get out of my car.
My feelings about this can only be expressed in the over-punctuation usually reserved for thirteen year old girls.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
... ... ... ...
???????????????
Yup. That sums it up.
Posted at 06:38 AM | Comments (3)October 18, 2010
Thoughts Pulled from My Brain's Closet
The problem with garbage disposals is that everyone assumes that everyone has one, so if you don't have one, and an unsuspecting but well-meaning guest rinses your dishes in the sink, then YOU have to slop all the soggy food out of the drain. Because you can never yell at a well-meaning guest! Hostess taboo!
How weird is it that my friend and I were at dinner with a big group of people, and from across the table, she met my eyes and licked her hand, and I knew that that mean Pass the salt? We weren't even drinking!
I love ketchup, and I see hamburgers, hotdogs and fries as mere vehicles for getting the ketchup to my mouth in a socially-acceptable fashion. (Yes, I put ketchup on hotdogs. Shut up. I don't care.) But as much as I love it, as soon as I return to work from lunch, I have to scrub the smell of ketchup off my hands because it just makes me puke.
So, PhD Boss wasn't going to come in on Friday. He had three conference calls and some papers to write, so he was going to do it all at home, which is always music to my ears, especially on a Friday.
But then on Thursday, right before I left for the day, he called over to me, "Yeah, so, I think I'm gonna come in tomorrow."
"Why?"
"What, you don't want me to?"
"I already talked to Alpha. Tomorrow was going to be No Pants Day."
"... I can't... What... I don't know what to say to that."
"I know. That's my favorite part."
I think I'm almost trying to get fired now.
Posted at 07:10 AM | Comments (4)October 14, 2010
Here's How It Went Down
When PhD Boss, Alpha and I got into the office at 7:30 Monday morning, there was an email waiting for us, from H.R. Troll #1. She said that she'd be the one telling us our fates, and she'd meet with us right after the all-staff meeting. Not great news, but at least it wasn't H.R. Troll #2, who is literally number two in my book. IF you know what I mean.
I checked email and fiddled on Facebook until 8:45, when Alpha and I went up to the conference room early to get good seats. And because we were anxious and didn't want to be at our desks. It was actually nice to kinda greet people as they arrived in the big room, sharing half-smiles if not words.
The big announcement was only twenty minutes long, and only The Big Cheese spoke. There were little details, but also few platitudes, so I'd call it a wash. The biggest thing I took away from the meeting is that we are now six departments instead of nineteen, and they're all headed by The Good Ol' Boys Club. Vomit.
By the time Alpha and I got back to our department, Head Boss' office door was closed, telling us that HRT2 and PhD were already in there. By the look on his face when he emerged, I was sure he got canned, but he wasn't allowed to tell me until HRT2 sat down with all three of us together. Seems petty, but whatever.
Then Alpha was through, and it was my turn. HRT2, in truth, looked ridden hard and put away wet, and it was only 9:30 in the morning. She'd already been crying, it was obvious, and she still had the rest of the day -- and the rest of the sackings -- to get through. So I gave her a hug. Weird, huh? I don't know what came over me. Sheer pity, I guess.
She told me what I already knew, that my contract would expire on October 31 and wouldn't be renewed. I think I smiled. Then she assured me that there would probably be plenty of temping opportunities for me in the coming months, as the restructing continues to play out. In my head, I said, Thank God for caller I.D. I've been your bitch long enough! Clean up your own mess.
Then I asked about the other job that I'd applied for and been accepted for but not yet allowed to actually do because of the limbo that everything has been in while we waited for the redesign to come to fruition. (Ouch -- regretably long sentence!)
Well, she could barely formulate a coherent thought because, of course, she couldn't tell me what the real answer was. If I deciphered her stammering correctly, she said that the job is, once again, going to be retooled with different responsibilities, so they'll have to get that done and then see where that leads. She is the Queen of Vague when she's up to something.
I asked if I could apply for it, since they often post jobs that only in-house people could apply for, and I would only be in-house through the end of this month. Her answer was that I could, IF it was actually posted because it may be that there's someone in the building who just perfectly fits the job description, so they would just "transition" that person into the position.
Which is clearly what they've been planning all along. They had no damn intention of ever letting me get that job. Here's what she's going to do: One, handpick one of her little non-white BFFs for the job. Two, rewrite the job description to match her friend's abilities. Three, simply move her friend into the job, giving WM no say in the whole thing.
I said okay and thanked her for her time, all the while imagining wild dogs eviscerating her.
Then PhD and Alpha were called in, and we all found out about the others. PhD and Alpha are staying on! I was floored! And so happy for them! But they were stricken with the thought of me leaving. And honestly, I felt really bad for Eileen.
HRT2 told us which humungo department they'd be part of now, and which Good Ol' Boy they'd all be reporting to, including Head Boss. Yes, demotions for all. And as bad as I feel that Alpha will be taking yet another pay cut, I'm a petty person and kind of smugly glad that the executives will know the bitter taste of devaluation as well.
Finally, HRT2 took her shabby self out of the room and shut the door behind her. And the first thing I said to my colleagues?
"I KNEW they'd find a way to fuck me out of that other job!"
I briefly explained that HRT2 had told me, and then we dialed Head Boss on speakerphone, as we'd promised him we'd do. He'd told PhD that he'd step out of any meeting he was in to talk to us.
We had just exchanged greetings with Head Boss when HRT2 opened the door and strolled back into the office. Rude! Does a closed door mean nothing to this person?!
She said, "I made a mistake! I have to correct something!"
Yeah. The definition of panic? That room, at that moment.
"Wenchie," she continued, "Your contract has been extended through January 15. So that's good news!"
My heart sank all the way into my black, leather pennyloafers. What's that quote from "The Godfather?" Every time I think I'm out, they suck me back in!
While PhD, Alpha and Head Boss rejoiced, I stood there in stunned silence. Trapped. Caged. An indentured servant for another three months. Greeeaaaaaaat.
Then Head Boss told us what had gone down.
As of a week before The Big Announcement, PhD, Alpha and I were all laid off, to be out of the building as of 5:00 p.m. this Friday the 15th. Head Boss was LIVID. I imagine he threw quite a hissy-fit and probably even threatened to quit, if they took all his staff away. I mean, good gravy, you can't expect the man to do the work of four people! Do they think the rest of us are just window dressing?!
Last Friday, when all the executives were handed the lists of who was staying and who was going, PhD and Alpha were staying. I wasn't even on the list. Head Boss didn't get confirmation that he could keep me on until Sunday night! I love the thought that I'm so controversial! But it makes me wonder -- on what are they basing these staffing decisions? One minute, we're all out; a week later, we're all in? Based on WHAT?! What magically changed? It's so random!
And speaking of random, there are lots of really amazing people walking out that door tomorrow afternoon, never to return. And there are lots of total slackers keeping their jobs. It's like they threw darts at a list of employees.
Very few people are happy with the decisions made, including the people who are staying. The restructuring is going to mean lots of demotions, lots of people uprooted from their former departments and working for new bosses. People handing their porfolios of work over to others and taking on completely new job descriptions. People unhappy that old, white males are in charge of everything. Women unhappy about the vast number of women laid off. Admins unhappy about the vast number of admins laid off. You get the picture.
In addition to the 65 that have already been let go (out of 270), I think we're going to see a lot more people jumping ship in the next six months.
And I hope to be one of them.
Posted at 10:45 AM | Comments (6)October 11, 2010
As of 6:00 a.m. Monday
October 11th is the new September 11th. Today is the big day.
Last Friday morning, after months and months of being ignored by the decision-makers in the smoke-filled board room, we got this email from the tippy-top of the food chain:
Dear Colleagues,As you know, the decision team has been preparing a proposal for board action today, October 8, 2010. You are invited to join me in the main conference room at 9:00 a.m. on Monday, October 11, to hear a report of the board's action and an overview of the new organization design. Following the gathering, you will return to your departments for more detailed information about how the new design personally affects your position.
The conversation will be live-streamed for staff who are not on site. More information will be provided.
You remain in my prayers.
Live-streamed, eh? So that means I don't even have to show up for work! I can just watch the whole thing on my computer, in my jammies, with a big mug of Kaluha and coffee.
The more I think about it, the more I think that arrangement would be the best for all concerned. I mean, bitterness and disgust greatly impare my brain-to-mouth filter, so I shall be inclined to heckle. But, since I already showered, I guess I'll just go in. Late. With Pumpkin Cream Cheese muffins from Starbucks.
The Build-Up
As of 2:30 Friday afternoon (we left early because, honestly, productivity was an unrealistic expectation), Head Boss still hadn't been told exactly whom would be breaking the news to our particular tiny department, since he left for a week-long business trip yesterday afternoon. I just hope and pray that it won't be either of the H.R. Trolls.
At 4:00 on Friday, all the executives went to the smoke-filled board room to FINALLYSWEETJEEBUSATLAST find out what the fuck is going to happen around here. And I have it on good authority that they were each handed a sheet of paper listing all the employees in their department and what's going to happen to them.
Can you imagine that shit? Being an executive and being TOLD -- after having zero input -- exactly whom is being chopped from your unit? Whom you're going to have to do without? And whom you're going to have to continue to put up with? I'll bet there was some yelling and table-pounding. Dear Lord, I hope there was.
So Head Boss had to live all weekend, knowing the fates of Alpha, PhD Boss and I, and not being able to tell us, upon pain of death. I honestly feel worse for him than I do for myself. That's a huge burden to bear. Frankly, I would have blabbed, but hey, I'm a Scorpio -- my friends are always my first loyalty.
Possible Aftermath
There are three options for what is written next to my name on that paper, as there are for everyone: Staying, Going, or Changing.
And let's not kid ourselves, pumpkins. "Changing" means "Demoting." It's laughable to imply that anyone might be getting a promotion out of this. Don't insult our intelligence!
I heard a rumor from several sources that the Executive Administrative Assistant is going to be a thing of the past. No more one-executive-one-secretary arrangements. All the execs are going to have to share, and all the admins are going to have more than one boss.
Which is fine. Rarely in my career have I belonged solely to one master. But here's what it really means:
The Breakdown
Everyone in the company is at a Level number. This Level is defined by their duties and responsibilities. In turn, this Level defines their paycheck.
Administrative assistants range from Level 10 to Level 15. Executives are Level 20. Levels 16 through 19 are middle management.
I am currently being paid at Level 10 because I am on contract, even though, if you look at my duties and responsibilities, I'm a Level 12 or 13. I have worked my ass off to learn more and take on more duties and responsibilities, so as to make myself more valuable and hopefully transition into a better paying position.
Such as the job I applied for and won but am not currently doing because we don't know if it still exisits. Well, WM knows, but he can't tell me until Monday. That job is/was a Level 13.
So here's what I'm guessing. My current contract is up October 31st, and I am 99.99% sure that it will not be renewed because I'm 99.99% sure that PhD Boss will be "downsized."
The job that I applied for and won, if it still exists, has probably been scaled back to a Level 10. Which is where I am now. Which SUCKS ASS. So if I'm offered that position, it won't be the position I've actually worked to deserve -- and there's only about a 50/50 chance that it still exists anyway.
The most likely scenario is that I will be entirely eliminated because I am white. And because the H.R. Trolls would rather keep people who "need" their jobs, rather than people who have earned them. (Because I am married, childless, and live in a nice suburb, it is assumed that I don't "need" my job.)
Of course, with good people being let go, and barely-competant people being retained, I'm sure there will be lots of temping opportunities available to me. But if they think I'm going to continue to be their bitch, THEY ARE HORRIBLY MISTAKEN. I deserve the whole enchilada, and if they're too stupid to see that, then they can SUCK IT.
The Bottom Line
Since there is no chance that I will actually get the awesome job that I applied for -- the awesome job that WM and Sterling have been wringing their hands over, desparate to have me working for them -- I just want to be shown the door. If I'm downgraded to some job that is just typing, filing and taking phone messages for half a dozen miscellaneous directors and managers, do you really think they're going to let that be the extent of my duties, knowing how much more I can do? Really? No. They will expect me to continue to be all that I can be, for the same handful of beans.
Those assholes had better not offer me some pissant job that I am totally overqualified for because I will kick those H.R. hags right in the taco.
Although I usually only post on Mondays and Thursdays, because of the work craziness this week, I'll probably be posting Monday, Wednesday, Friday.
Posted at 06:00 AM | Comments (0)October 07, 2010
He's a Lumberjack and He's Okay
This is the tree that needed to come down. It looks like Dr. Seuss' back yard because Husband already cut all the dead branches off, as high as he could reach. On a ladder with a hand saw. I was in the kitchen with the window open and the phone nearby, listening for The Accident.
Cousin Ramone came over to help Husband, despite my aunt's certainty that someone was going to lose a limb!!! Isn't it cute how he's wearing plaid? That's Ramone holding the ladder for Husband, who is tying a big rope to the top of the tree.
We gave Ramone the honor of making the first cut. And uttering the first profanity.
"This blade is dull as shit." So he exchanged his gas-powered saw for Dad's electric saw, which was nice because it wasn't as loud. At 9:00 a.m. on a Saturday.
I told Husband to be the one holding the rope that steered the tree to its final resting place. If someone was going to hit the house or take out a telephone wire, I thought it should be the homeowner. Nothing ruins Thanksgiving dinner like a lawsuit!
This is an action-shot of the tree actually falling.
Taking a photo of falling trees is not only difficult to time, it's also kinda stupid.
The tree and its trunk, parted for all of eternity.
All the crap behind our shed is now entirely too visible. Note to self: add this to Husband's To Do list.
"The chain is loose, but I don't really know what I'm doing here. Any ideas?"
Surprisingly, this did not end with a trip to the Emergency Room, although I will admit that I did get the small cooler down from the shelf in the garage, just in case we needed to keep an appendage on ice during the ambulance ride.
Now for the fun part -- dragging all the branches to the curb. Luckily, I had made an amazing coffee cake, so I was excused from manual labor.
This is the treasure that was found buried in the debris under the tree. Can't imagine how old it is. Is it just me, or is Spiderman's thigh almost... disconcertingly muscular?
October 04, 2010
Mix Tape of the Damned
Appropo of October, and while I work on Thursday's ginormous post -- an illustrated story of amazing lumberjackitude -- let me take a survey.
If you were making a mix CD for Halloween, what song(s) would you include? It's not for a party, so it doesn't have to cater to any specific purpose. It's just for me because I love Halloween.
Here's what I have so far, i.e. the obvious:
The opening number "This Is Halloween" from The Nightmare Before Christmas.
"Night on Bald Mountain" by Modest Musskorgsky, immortalized in a segment
in Disney's movie Fantasia. Some seriously disturbing shit.
Also featured in Fantasia, and probably a billion other movies, Bach's "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor." When I was fifteen and at the zenith of my piano career, my piano teacher would let me go into the church sanctuary and play it on the big pipe organ, with all the stops pulled out. It was glorious! Yes, before becoming a master blogger, Wenchie was the shizzlie on piano. My many talents are dwarfed only by my humility.
"Dies Irae" from Mozart's Requim, or just about any other movement from the same.
I'm also considering the Overture to Gilbert & Sullivan's "Ruddigore," which is about a cursed family of barons. In the second act, a gallery of creepy portraits come to life to some very eerie harmonies to torment the latest title-holder. (Damn, that still gives me goosebumps.) I remember my Dad played the ghost baron from the Crusades era. Head-to-toe chainmail, y'all! That and the dry ice had a very profound effect on me as a child! I don't care if the King of Spectreland was just my neighbor in a cape doing some community theater -- I was scared!
And maybe "Feed my Frankenstein" by Alice Cooper. I may even go old school with a little "Thriller," if only to hear Vincent Price's dulcet tones.
And then I get stuck. I know there's plenty of scary music out there, and that's where you come in, my dearest minions. Recommendations, please?!
But before you go there, do NOT think of suggesting "Monster Mash" or "Werewolves of London." Because I will barf so as to make Linda Blair feel queasy.
Posted at 06:00 AM | Comments (2)