I'm Outta Here...

Glad to report that my days are numbered. At work, that is. I've officially given notice, and boy has the stress level gone down. A LOT.

I love the fact that my team leader, who is one of the main reasons I'm going (don't get me started), hasn't even acknowledged that I've given notice. At least the head of my department has sent me an email saying I'll be missed. The team leader just goes right on talking to me about things that will be deployed/happening long after I'm gone. In a meeting the other day, he started talking about how he's really excited about a new development we'll be able to use in testing our products, and how it applies specifically to my colleague and to me. Deployment estimate: August. My last day: 30th of June.

Not to mention a host of other things that have done nothing except confirm for me that this decision is the right one for me right now. My mental health is sure to bounce back. The teeth grinding has already lessened. I don't feel as worn out as I have in the past. I no longer dread Mondays. And I have a positive view of my future (which is certainly something that I haven't felt professionally for a long time).

I've still got 26 days left, which is a long time (or it SEEMS a long time). But I'm not making any plans to do more than what I need to do. I have finished going to the extreme for this company. I've finished with going beyond the call of duty. I have 13 years' worth of experience, know-how, understanding of how it all works. I know things that could only be known by someone like me because of how long I've been around, and because I listen to what people say, and I know who to ask about things, and how to ask for help from people who would tell other people to just get in line. (As an aside, I think people are willing to do things for me when I ask them because I treat them like people. There are many around here who treat their co-workers like production-line flunkies. I'd like to remind a few people around here that just because you happen to have been promoted to 'manager', it doesn't necessarily mean that you know bugger all about how to manage people, or how to lead a team. I can tell you unabashedly: you don't know squat).

I'm going to do what I must do, and that's all. I'm going to record things that are part of my job description, but when it comes to divulging all my secrets about who to talk to, and how, in order to smooth the way and sort things out, forget it.

One of my strengths is being a facilitator. I'm great at getting people to work together. And what I've come to realize is that, around here, that's not desirable.

I'd also like to quote from my most recent appraisal, from a comment from my team leader: "I see the need for [her] to progress, and her enthusiasm to gain extra experience with which to make the case for further progression when appropriate roles arise that she can apply for." I've added the emphasis here. Two and a half years in the same position, without a pay rise, nor a promotion. What is the point of working your arse off to get a great appraisal, or to ask for help with learning and development, when there isn't a chance in Hell that you're going to be promoted? OOooh. You mean I'll be ALLOWED to APPLY for a job to move up in my department, but I'd still potentially be shunted aside, just in case there's someone from outside the organization? What about that old fashioned gem -- promotion on merit? Remember that one?

He 'sees my enthusiasm to gain extra experience'. Gee. That's nice that he SEES it. But he's never done a thing to work with it, or provide any opportunities to help me move forward. And when it's been queried, he just bounces it back to my line manager, saying 'oh that's a management issue -- not something for me'.

I'm gone. Long gone. Even though I've got 26 days left. I'm well and truly gone. And I'm taking my information, my know-how, my experience, and my secret ways with me. So have a good time after I've gone, trying to figure out how it all works.

Oh. And I'll be watching the salary and career progression of my replacement with interest. I reckon that if there's a promotion, or a pay rise, before two and a half years are out, you'll be hearing from me. And one or two of my professional friends. You know - those people with the letters QC after their names?

Perspective

It's been a weird week or so. I've finally made my decision about Mr Mean Man (thanks, Julie!), and all that he embodies, so that's good. My plan is in place, and as soon as I'm at liberty to talk about it, believe me, I will. But suffice it to say, it's certainly lightened the load for me.

The other thing that happened is that I learned some distressing news a week ago tonight. The mother of one of my 7-year-old's classmates died last week. Melanoma. She was diagnosed last summer, and BANG. She leaves behind a daughter who's 5, a son who's 7, and a really terrific guy who's now, according to multiple sources, having a really bad time of it all.

And she was my age.

I didn't know her. I met her only twice. She seemed really nice. So I'm not writing this to tell you how much I'm mourning my friend, or to talk about what a great person she was; I don't really know. I presume as much, but I don't know.

What I'm writing about tonight is perspective.

Mr Mean Man has been getting my goat far too long. And I've been racking my brain to figure out what I can do to impress him/the others/whomever it is I think I need to impress, to get ahead. And I've realized that it really doesn't matter.

I have spent so much of my life being identified by what I do every day to earn my money. I don't know why. It could be because of the industry I was in when I cut my business teeth, and all the bullshit that surrounds everything that goes on there. I could be the people who I claimed as my mentors while I was in that crowd. It could be a combo. It could be none of the above.

But I've realized that my kids are 4, and 7. And right now, they'll still hold my hand when we're walking along. And they want me to kiss them goodnight, and read them stories, and they want to do things with me and go places with me. And in a few short years, they won't want to do those things with me any longer. Especially the holding hands bit. That might just be what breaks my heart, when it happens. And it will happen.

So after hearing last week's news over a cup of late night decaf with a friend at her kitchen table, my perspective has changed. My decaf friend asked me about how I'd feel if tomorrow were my last day on earth -- would I be so upset about not spending more time slogging my guts out for people who don't even know my name, or people who talk to me as if I'm dirt? Or would I rather be lying there, and remembering all the lovely things I did with my kids, and my husband, and my family, and my friends?

I choose the latter, folks. And it's a conscious decision to do it. It doesn't matter what I do from 9-5, really, as long as it's something I like. And it's something that likes me back.

I look at the faces of my kids. I see pictures of them from just 6 months ago, and I see the changes in their eyes, and faces, and smiles. I see their slightly rounder, slightly more babyish cheeks stare at me from the picture frame, and when I look round to who they are today, I see girls, not toddlers. I see personality, and curiosity, and temper, and independence, and fury, and humour. And I've only got a little while to be within their circles, until I'm banished because that's what we did to our parents, and what our children will do to us.

Last week, what did that lovely young mother think as she waited for her end to happen to her? Was she prepared to leave her children behind? Did she regret any choices she'd made, because she'd thought she'd have years and years to spend? I don't know. I never will know.

But I'm not going to regret a thing. Thoreau also said 'Why should we be in such desperate haste to succeed, and in such desperate enterprises? If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer.'

OK, Henry. I'm listening now.

Kish mier en toochis...

After some quick conversation with the husband last night, and some serious thinking about what's been going on in my life recently, I've made the decision to make some decisions.

I don't have too much longer to go before I can put them in writing, but suffice it to say that it's going to be good.

It's going to mean there's going to be a lot less stress in my life, and a lot more joy (no, I'm not separating from my husband). Ha ha. See what I did there? I made a hilarious 'spouse' joke.

But it's actually the spouse who said 'you should listen to this great Freakonomics podcast - I think it'll do you some good.' And you know what? It did.

It got me thinking that what I spend my days doing has to be something that I not only LIKE doing, but that lets me use the expertise and the experience I have on a daily basis. Currently, what I'm doing could be done by a robot (see previous post on this subject), or they could save themselves a ton of cash and just get some newbie, wet-behind-the-ears recent graduate or temp to make screenshots of websites, and put up pictures on the noticeboard, or make sure that everyone gets the monthly email about passwords.

Yep. This is my job. After 25 years in business, this is the majority of my work. Sure. I have projects to work on. But I'm so busy doing administration and clean-up, that I can't find the time to actually perform any of the tasks that are supposed to show why I need to do more and be more. But I spend an inordinate amount of time putting data from one excel spreadsheet into another, and sorting it (over, and over, and OVER again) because someone somewhere (who has no idea of what I do, or how I do it) has made a decision that may see like a good idea, but doesn't bear any resemblance to reality.

Oh yes. I also love being told off by a newly hired colleague how to do my job, and why how we've always done something clearly isn't how we should still do it. Please note: I've been at my place of employment since 2002, with an 18 month break between 2005-6. So clearly I wouldn't have any experience with change, or have been through any restructures, or new 'business implementations' engineered by profit-seeking (and utter out of touch with reality) bean counters and uber-Geschäftsleute who got their MBAs and love to talk about globalization, but haven't been in the trenches in years.

I'm just done. I'm done with the stress that makes me grind my teeth at night so badly that I get headaches. I'm done with the place that raises my cortisol levels to such an extent that I get the shpilkas just walking in the front door of the place. And to run with the Yiddish here, I'm also over the schmegeggy who's made me cry twice (when I swore it would never happen). I'm an ADULT, for God's sake!

So watch this space, nu? It's all going to be great.

Coping Mechanism

I'm starting to think that I'm just not cut out for staying in my job much longer. It's not the job, actually. I really like being involved with what I do. What's starting to wear me down is that there is almost nothing left that has to do with people, or job satisfaction, or with making me want to do a good job.

I could be a robot. I'm so tired of words being bandied around that haven't got a thing to do with people. It's words like 'workflow', 'protocol', 'process', 'infrastructure', and garbage like that. I used to be a part of a team that worked together on something, and we had to work together on this something once a month to continually produce new stuff to display on our something. And we DID work together.

We discovered problems. We hashed them out. We argued about stuff in weekly meetings. But ultimately, we all worked TOGETHER to put a plan in place to make things work. Now, a few people have moved round within teams (which happens), and suddenly, some of the new team members are more interested in tittle-tattling to their managers than they are talking to the rest of the team, and trying to work with the team in order to sort stuff out.

Gone are the days when we'd all approach a dodgy situation, and everyone would pipe up with an opinion, good or rubbish. And we all depended on each other's experience and savvy. And then we'd figure stuff out, and everything would fall into place. It would work. It was on time. We were successful. And we loved doing it.

Now, the only things that seem to happen is that people can only say why they CAN'T do something; why something CAN'T be accomplished; why something CAN'T be pulled back into a schedule and launched on time.

I'm so tired of it. I'm tired of people giving excuses as to why things can't be done. A year ago, we were delivering twice what we're delivering now. And granted, maybe people went a bit off piste with things occasionally. I understand that it can be dangerous when that's the norm. But CLEARLY what's happened is that all these processes and workflows and protocols and other corporate bollocks that gets spouted daily haven't made things better. Or more streamlined. Or faster/cheaper/nicer.

All they've done is ruin what was working well. The team isn't a team any longer. It's fragmenting. And what we're supposed to deliver is fragmenting as well. To borrow a phrase from someone I admire, we've adopted the 'labour economics of the call centre' right into our open plan office. Pretty soon it'll be about adhering to a script, as part of the 'workflow' we're adopting in order to create the 'infrastructure' that will guarantee the 'resource' we need in order to define the 'scalability' of the 'deliverables'.

Someone asked me yesterday if I were asked did I still want to work on this project, what would I say? And I answered 'no'. I said I wouldn't work on it if I didn't have to. Because suddenly it's not about us all working together to provide 'excellence'. What's been going on hasn't got bugger all to do with excellence. All I'm hearing is no, can't, won't, isn't. And ultimately, it's now no longer about people working together, using their brains and ingenuity and cleverness and experience, to do something really cool and great.

Now it's about being robots.