I may talk about work in this one, or maybe not. I wasn’t really paying attention.

I heard an interesting story in a meeting this morning, which may or may not be true (the story, not the meeting), and if true, may or may not have happened at my company (again, the story, not the meeting). It is all very mysterious. In fact, picture wavy lines through this whole post, as if it were a dream sequence in a television program. Do it. I can’t afford special effects and you have perfectly good imaginations just rotting idling there. Thank you.

In the meeting (I know, this part is factual, but keep the wavy lines because they are kind of trippy, which is cool), we were discussing how to recognize and reward employees using non-financial means, because while we understand the importance of keeping people motivated and appreciating effort that goes above and beyond, it is hard to justify any cash expenditures these days. It sounds like a great idea, coming up with ways to recognize people without spending money, but there is always someone who can muck it up.

Cue the story (Which now that I think about it, is not about recognizing people with non-financial means at all so I don’t know why it was even told at the meeting. Don’t I feel stupid. Well, I have come too far to turn back now, so if you can imagine wavy lines, you can surely imagine this post has a coherent theme. Thank you again.)

And now, cue the story.

The story: An employee was soon to be celebrating a major service anniversary milestone (actual number of years withheld to protect the innocent, where innocent equals me.) (Stop laughing.) with the company. Even in our corporation, where people tend to stick around longer than body odor in a taxi cab, this was a very large number of years and a big deal. The manager of this employee did some background research into the employee’s work history and found that not only had this employee worked for the company for all those many years, this person had also always displayed a great work ethic and productivity level, and, the real kicker, had never missed a day of work due to illness.

Think of that. Decades (and decades) (See how I’m getting the point across without actually saying anything? ‘Tis a gift.) of work with only holidays and vacation days to look forward to. I don’t know about you but I don’t mind a nasty cold or minor flu bug now and then. It is a day or two off work and you lose five pounds. Win-win.

Anyway, the manager was very excited and wanted to have a very nice recognition ceremony (read: cake) (Great, now I want cake.) for this employee when the special day arrived. However, given that we understand human nature and that people do not have cookie-cutter personalities (Well, crap, now I want cookies. Way to go.), it is our practice to ask the employee what type of recognition, if any, they want. When the manager asked if the employee would like to have a special ceremony or party, this particular employee responded that it would be appreciated if no special fuss was made. This hardworking, dedicated employee would like to observe the anniversary of decades upon decades on the job as just another day.

Well, this was not good enough for the manager. All those years of unfailing devotion to the company deserved fanfare and hoopla and banners, oh my! When the employee unwittingly walked into the fanfare-hoopla-bannered ceremony, it was clearly visible that the whole spectacle was very uncomfortable (There may have been blanching or a nervous tic that developed, I’m not sure, that part of the story was fuzzy.) However, being a good corporate minion, the employee soldiered through the event, mustering a weak smile and lukewarm appreciation.

The next day, the employee called in sick.

Coincidence or silent revolt? Can it be called a coincidence when we all saw it coming? I think not.

You can dissolve the wavy lines now.

The moral of the story: Listen to people. When they tell you what they want, what they need, who they are, BELIEVE THEM. Someone else’s achievement or sorrow or special day is just that, someone else’s. It is never, not once, about you.

The sub-moral of the story: Gimme some cake. Or (read: and) cookies.

It is really going to happen this time

I read back over my Archives for April last year, trying to find inspiration for something to write about today and found something interesting. Did you know that on April 29, 2008, I was given the hope of an actual vacation? And as of this writing, that has yet to happen? And by vacation, I mean at least one entire week away from work. I have always been able to use all my vacation and personal days but only one or two days at a time, which does nothing to recharge the batteries.

In just a couple of weeks that is going to change. I’m getting an entire week off in May! Truth be told, it still isn’t a vacation because I will officially be laid off…but a rose by any other name, you know? Whatever you call it, it is still nine days (including weekends) in which nobody can call me about work and I am actually forbidden to login and do anything, so yeah, this will be good.

To clarify the layoff situation, our division of the company has agreed that each of us will take four weeks of temporary layoff in 2009. We were able to choose our weeks (for the most part, after making sure we had adequate coverage throughout the year) so really it is not too bad. It is guaranteed time off that some of us haven’t had in years so that is definitely a good thing. And the weeks are eligible for unemployment benefits so while it is a slight dip in income, it isn’t going to impact anyone too severely. Whatever we can do to keep a job in this economy, you know? I have a week coming in May, August, September, and November. I am so giddy thinking about it I could dance naked on the rooftop.

The best part is, I still have my nearly four weeks of vacation time to take in between there too. I could actually be a new person by the time this year is over. That’s a lot of time away from work that could change my mental outlook completely. I hope. Like a vacation, it is well overdue.

It is no wonder my mail never finds me

Why do I do this to myself? Last night, I made some ridiculous statement on Twitter that I just KNEW a blog post was imminent and I was even going to shorten my workout so I would have time to write. I could just FEEL the thoughts starting to flow from my mind, down my arms, and into my fingers.

Pffffft.

If you have any idea what I was going to write about, please let me know because it is gone now. All I have in my brain this morning are disjointed ideas and random words like turtles on bicycles, ice cream cones with stardust sprinkles, and pastrami. You try to make a blog post out of that. Why do I KNOW at least two of you are going to do exactly that?

I guess I can try to catch you up on things at work.

• I was asked to work an additional job
• I’m moving
• Twice
• This weekend
• Ugh

And…now you’re caught up.

The additional job is to help backfill for part of the workforce we laid off earlier this year. With the layoffs, some critical positions were left open so those of us who remain are being asked to pitch in and help cover the slack, which I think is great. I like working for a company who is thinking outside the box in terms of finding new ways to keep us afloat during this period. And the job itself, while adding a whole new layer of stress to my work life, is interesting. The best part, as with any job, is the great people I’m working with. It is very much a team atmosphere and everyone is there to support the others so it makes for a great environment.

There are a few drawbacks though. I’m splitting my day between the two jobs so it feels like I never get anything done. By the time I really dig in and get rolling on something with one, it is time to pack up and drive to the other. Oh yes, did I mention that these jobs aren’t in the same building? Or city, for that matter? (Now, truth be told, the two office buildings are just over the bridge from each other, but doesn’t it sound much more ‘woe is me’ if I say I have to work in two different cities every day?)

Which leads me to the moves… If you have been around here a while, you may recall that I moved from one office building to another just one year ago. And then about three weeks later, I moved back to the first office building (but on a different floor) because the new building was making me sick. Well, now, everyone in both buildings is moving to a third office building. So some time between working my two jobs and commuting back and forth over that bridge, I need to pack up my desk and be ready to move this weekend.

And the new job? That I just started last week? Yeah, our team is moving too. Luckily, it is just from one room on the floor to another but still… And the move is also this weekend. Is it a full moon? Do full moons cause desk moves? Who am I talking to?

I did a little tally the other night and in my 12 years with the company, I have worked in six buildings in three different cities and had 15 desks. What is the deal with all the mobility? Those of you who work where I do, what are your numbers? And the rest of you? How many moves have you had with the same company?

Respite

I work in an office building a couple of blocks from the Illinois River. The break room in my building is wall-to-wall/ceiling-to-floor glass, facing the river. It isn’t a particularly great view if you focus on the fence-surrounded construction zone in the first block (that is alternately flooded and filled with construction trucks, depending on the weather). Can it be called a construction zone when there is nothing being razed or built? It’s more just an empty block, full of potential and civic dreams. But past that, your eyes come to a couple of beautiful buildings and just beyond them, the river.

My eyes skip over it all and just look at the river. When you’re not actually so close that you smell it or that you can see it is primarily sludge-ridden goo wending its way past, it is a pretty river. It definitely improves with distance — and sunlight sparkling on its surface.

That break room, or more specifically, that view has become my sanctuary, my get-away-from-the-crazy place. I try not to let work get to me too much but some days…

We all have those days, right? When you’ve remained as composed and positive as you mentally and physically can and yet the situation demands even more of you? It seems like there is a plague of those days raining down on us lately.

And so, on occasion, I stroll into the break room and look out over the river. Water has always had a calming effect on me, and while I prefer looking out over the Pacific or one of the Great Lakes…well, I have learned to make do with what is available. I rest my eyes on the cool blue current or perhaps on a boat or barge that is passing by and I feel myself relax. The sun streams through the window, my heart rate slows, and my mind ceases churning.

Returning to my desk, I feel calm and capable. That is pretty remarkable for just three minutes away.

How do you find peace for yourself during a rough day?

Firemen are hot. Even when they’re not. Discuss.

I used to work in a hospital IT department, doing everything from data entry to patient invoicing to filing Medicare claims to nightly system shut downs and backups. It was an entry level position and wasn’t much to brag about but since I also provided IT support (I know, me?) to all the departments, it provided me backstage passes to all the most interesting places. I saw the ER, OR, and HR that most patients (and staff for that matter) didn’t get to see. I knew the ins and outs of the nurses stations on every floor. I once reorganized the entire doctors’ library. I filed patient medical records and, on more than one occasion, helped fill in at the switchboard. That hospital saw many different sides of me. And since I worked both first shift (three days a week) and third shift (two nights a week), and worked regular weekdays, holidays, and weekends throughout my four or so years there, I saw the hospital itself in many different lights.

And I have stories.

Like the night the bat flew in through the ambulance garage and terrorized the ER nurse until two of the paramedics beat it to death with a broom and a trash can. Don’t worry — I’m sure both implements of torture had been sterilized first.

Or the night the security guard and I were bored and went up on the roof where the helicopters landed and watched the shooting stars.

Or the night the security guard and I were bored and he took me on a tour of the morgue which I think he was hoping would scare me, but what he didn’t know was I once rode four hours in the back of a van with a dead guy, had a picnic in a cemetery, and attended a keg party in a funeral home (all separate occasions, I’m not completely disrespectful), so I’m not really squeamish when it comes to corpses.

And then there was the period of several months when the pediatric and surgical wings were being remodeled and the construction was causing dust to get everywhere…including in the electrical and fire alarm systems. This caused the fire alarms to go off at least three or four times a week and, being a hospital, the fire department was required to come and check things out. One of their first steps was to the switchboard, which housed the panel that showed the fire’s location by displaying a blinking red light next to the label that said a certain floor and/or wing. This allowed the operator to quickly view the panel when the alarm went off and announce over the PA system the fire’s location…something like this: “Code Red – 2nd floor B Wing”.

One particular night, maybe 1 or 2 AM, the alarm went off, the firemen dutifully tore through town to respond, and yet, the operator didn’t make the Code Red announcement. We all sat in our respective corners of the building, hoping that the operator would come across and say “Code Red – 1st Floor Peds” which would indicate it was just another false alarm. But no. Nothing came over the PA. (Don’t worry, no kiddies were harmed in the making of this story. Nor were they actually housed in the construction zone during the remodel. Geesh.)

After a minute or two of eerie silence, I walked over to the switchboard just to make sure it wasn’t the operator who was on fire, which would mean I could possibly 1) save a life (which they make a big fuss about in the hospital biz) and 2) make the announcement myself. Woo! I loved when I got to make PA announcements.

I arrived at the switchboard about the same time the firemen did, which honestly, hadn’t even occurred to me (drooool) and that was when I heard this conversation, which is still one of the funniest memories I have.

Fireman: Where’s the fire?

Operator: I have no idea! The panel is going nuts and all the lights are blinking! It looks like we’re in the middle of a inferno if you go by the panel!

Fireman: What did you give as the Code Red location?

Operator: Aaagh! I haven’t announced the Code Red yet. Oh man, I don’t know what to say! What should I say?

Fireman: Well, can’t you just say “location unknown”?

Operator, who by this time is completely flustered, what with the crazy panel and the hunky fireman: Good idea! “Code Red, Code Red — Uhh, Look behind you!”

I have been thinking a lot about my past jobs lately. There were some good, some bad and some pretty ugly parts to all of them but I can say I have always been blessed to work with people who have a great sense of humor. Or, at least, gave the rest of us plenty to laugh about. And at the end of the day, or in the middle of a fire alarm, that’s the best part of any job.

What’s your favorite work-related funny?