Tag Archives: priorities

Dedication…

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One of the people I work with loves her job. I’m making that assumption anyway because most days she seems to always stick around until 6:00 or 7:00 when end-of-tour is closer to 4:30. According to her, there’s always something “hot” that comes up after the rest of us pull up stakes for the day that needs done and just can’t wait for the next morning. I suppose it’s theoretically possible that this is true, but based on my own observation of daily workload around here, I’m somewhat skeptical.

I guess someone might look at her and think the late hours were a sign of dedication. The fact is, though, we’re not a life-or-death operation. It’s probably not politic to say in a world of 9.2% unemployment and a collapsing stock market, but sometimes a job is just a job. As much as an escort sells her body for cold hard cash, I whore out my big beautiful brain for the same consideration. Maybe some people do it for the love, but me, I do it for money. I do it so I can afford to pay the bills, eat nice meals, and occasionally travel to new and interesting places. I don’t do it out of a misplaced sense of loyalty as I’m quite certain the powers that be would have no qualms about throwing me over the gunwale during a reduction in force.

Sure, there was a time when I was young and idealistic and my sense of self derived directly from my position title and placement on the org chart. I got a little older and a little more jaded and discovered that no matter how cushy, the job is pretty much just a set of handcuffs keeping you from doing the things you really want to do because you’ve got bills to pay. And we should have bills to pay. We should have to work for our supper. But we shouldn’t be working instead of eating our supper.

I’m too old to be naïve about how the world works. Maybe sticking to the ol’ eight-and-out is committing slow career suicide. Missing the next rung on the career ladder still sounds like a better option than missing out on everything that isn’t work. The only shame is it took me so long to figure that out.

Editorial Note: This part of a continuing series of posts previously available on a now defunct website. They are appearing on http://www.jeffreytharp.com for the first time. This post has been time stamped to correspond to its original publication date

Potty talk…

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Depending on where you work, there are many things that must be handled in a “right now” time-sensitive manner. Without question, sometimes minutes or seconds count. In fairness, though, 99.997% of the time, what we’re doing doesn’t fall into that category. We’re not defusing bombs and we’re not performing heart surgery. We’re writing reports and creating PowerPoint presentations.

Occasionally, because of pressure being exerted from echelons above reality or our own inflated sense of importance, we’ll mistake our report writing and PowerPoint building for an actual life or death situation. I’m going to go on the record here and say that no matter how important you think the issue is, there’s nothing we’re doing on a day-to-day basis that can’t wait until we step away from the urinal.

Editorial Note: This part of a continuing series of posts previously available on a now defunct website. They are appearing on http://www.jeffreytharp.com for the first time. This post has been time stamped to correspond to its original publication date.

Data call…

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When I ask for some information and mention that it’s for the boss, the appropriate response is not to then get up, walk down the hall, get water for your plants, talk to your best girl friend on the phone for 20 minutes, eat a granola bar and then get around to sending me the info an hour later. Look, I know I’m new in town, but I didn’t get here on the turnip truck. Mkay? Thanks.

I seriously wonder sometimes if it’s my standards that are unrealistically high or if the rest of the world really is just that stupid, ignorant, or just gold fashioned oblivious to everything going on around them.

Editorial Note: This part of a continuing series of posts previously available on a now defunct website. They are appearing on http://www.jeffreytharp.com for the first time. This post has been time stamped to correspond to its original publication date

Welcome to Thunderdome…

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We had a meeting a few days ago about what each of us would be doing in the event a major natural disaster hit while we were at the office. I think it’s sort of cute that the powers that be are planning on people staying at their desks for the first hour of a catastrophic event. Sure it would be nice to think that everyone was an automaton who would run the checklists, rationally assess the situation, and make good decisions based on available facts… but lets face it, you’re flying against the strong wind of human nature. In those first minutes, assuming the building hasn’t fallen on our heads, you’re going to see a mass exodus as people’s flight instinct kicks in. During times of real crisis, we’re hard wired to think to hearth and home, not the office and redundant backup. I wouldn’t want to be the brave and crazy soul who tried standing in the doorway blocking the flood tide of people on their way out. Getting trampled isn’t really my style.

I suppose it’s a good enough plan if you aren’t bothered by considerations such as reality and basic human nature. The best I can hope for in these meetings is that I’m sitting far enough back in the room that most people won’t see me rolling my eyes and sketching out my own plan to escape, evade, and recover from whatever big nasty event ultimately befalls us.

Editorial Note: This part of a continuing series of previously de-published blogs appearing on http://www.jeffreytharp.com for the first time. This post has been time stamped to correspond to its original publication date.

Complete lack of interest…

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As I’m writing this, I am vaguely aware that the Super Bowl is being played in Florida… But I have to confess that I am suffering from a complete lack of interest. I tuned in for the halftime show mainly because I’ve always harbored a quiet appreciation for Springsteen, but other that I’ve been back in the office sorting through a stack of mail and (gasp) starting to organize my tax information for the accountant. So basically for this super Sunday, I’ve gone to PetSmart and the supermarket, picked up and disposed of a weeks’ worth of mail, made some very tasty spaghetti and meat sauce for dinner, and been working on a few odds and ends on the computer to round out the evening. That the “biggest game of the year” is on seems to have been barely a blip on my radar. Everyone else seems to be making a deal out of it… But I’m just not there. Is there some kind of switch that people throw to get motivated about this sort of thing?

Teamwork sucks…

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OK, team, for the record tomorrow is a federal holiday. That means that the sooner we get our shit together this afternoon, the sooner we can begin enjoying an extra day off this week. This is a pass-fail course, so no one is grading you on how many cute pictures you can put into a briefing. I hate to break it to you, but no one cares. You’re not being graded on this assignment and they guy who does your yearly evaluation will never know that you had 12 slides instead of 10. I grow weary of trying to nudge the discussion from “what sound lobsters make when they’re boiled” to something slightly more productive. I appreciate that you want to be a hard charger and do great things… but this is a mandatory training course, not your actual job. We all have enough garbage to deal with back at the office, so why are you trying to make life harder than it needs to be when we’re on TDY? Sorry, but there’s just no good reason that we should have been working at 4:00 today when they cut us loose to build a briefing at 10:30. You, my dear teammates, are asshats.

3600 words and counting…

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I’m in the midst of my big push to the end of this interminably long MBA program. With 3600 words down and probably another 2000 or so to go, I can say with unmitigated giddiness that I am totally over this whole process. I’m ready to be done. I’m ready to have my weekends back. I’m ready to have another pretty certificate to hang on my “I’m wonderful” wall. Still, somehow, I can’t quite quiet the small voice inside my head that spends its days whispering “what’s next?”

I haven’t given it all that much thought yet, really and at this point I don’t really want to. Just now, I’m basking in the reflected glory of knowing that in 9 days, I won’t *have to* do anything. I’m thoroughly looking forward to a stretch of only doing those things that I want to do for a change.

Lost…

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I’m in the process of losing my voice and had never realized how much of my day I spent talking until it started to hurt when I did it. So, for the time being, I’m going to be doing my best to keep the talking to a minimum. Maybe I’ll actually catch up on a few posts I have been trying to hammer out, but haven’t quite found the time to work on lately.

I’m heading to Baltimore on Monday, incidentally. There’s a bit of a family medical issue that I’ve been asked to keep under my hat for the time being and since it’s embargoed to other members of the family, I’m certainly not going to blather about on the details on MySpace. Suffice to say, it’s serious enough that I’m flying back to Maryland to be there. The operation has a high rate of success, but the consequences of failure, though unlikely, are quite simply more horrifying than I can imagine. Tuesday is going to be one of those days without end.

Lessons from life…

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I had a bad day today. I mean one of those days when you leave the office that you don’t really care if you ever go back kind of days. I was angry, frustrated, and generally exhausted from the bureaucratic process that drives the federal machine. Actually, I thought I was having a bad day at that point. I also knew that someone I consider a dear friend and one of my favorite targets of merciless flirting was having surgery today.

It was a common procedure that should have been no fuss, no muss, over and done. At six o’clock I learned that it hadn’t been as simple as that. Somehow things had gotten complicated. All I knew at that point was that someone I care for was in trouble and I realized at that moment that I would have given anything to make things right. There wasn’t anything in the world I wanted more than to simply be there, as though just my presence would make some kind of difference. And in that moment, I would have given everything up just to be there and see for myself that she was alright.

I’m not going to sit here and type out a manifesto promising a life-long reordering of my priorities, but I will say that for the first time in a long, long time, my eyes were opened to the world beyond my own little slice of life and how perilous a blade it balances on. She may not be mine to win or lose, but knowing this chick makes me want to be a better man. I’m not there in body, but you can stand assured that I’m most assuredly there in spirit.

The saga continues…

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OK, I’ve filed my plans (for the second time) and have all the paperwork cut, reservations made, all the appropriate notifications that I’ll be floating around the old homestead over the weekend have happened (almost). When everything is going according to schedule, my day ends at 3:30. At 3:19 I got an email that I had been “uninvited” to the DC meeting on Friday. At 3:26 another email hit my inbox that I was “reinvited.” I appreciate you boys fighting over me, I really do, but this whole plan has all the classic hallmarks of a typical government operation… no one has a damned clue what is actually going on.

As of 8:30, I’m planning to fly out tomorrow. That, of course, is subject to the requirements of the service and can change at any time before “the cabin door has been closed and customers are asked to turn off their cell phones, pagers, and other electronic devices.” If you don’t see a stark, raving post about government ineptitude by 6:00 PM eastern time tomorrow, you’ll know I’m winging my way somewhere over the Eastern half of the country. Stay tuned for developments as they happen.