Today's happiness: An afternoon nap. The office closed today at 12:30 for the company picnic. I slipped away and came home instead. I'm desperately in need of some alone time. My oldest friend will be in this weekend and we're going to be together 24/7 from Saturday through Monday.
So I got my alone time and I sprawled out on the sofa and napped. And I luxuriated in it.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Thursday, August 08, 2013
Can't help it. I'm ANNOYED!
Four of us share a space, and I hate it, hate it, hate it. Because one of my coworkers seems to go out of her way to get on my nerves, and when we're sitting on top of each other it's impossible to ignore her.
The week started when we revisited a project we did six months ago, last February. Our client had approved a piece of creative and wanted the content -- just the content -- in a word file. She had the creative and so I asked her if she would make it a word doc.
Oh, my! You would have thought I'd asked her for an internal organ!
"But it started out as a manuscript. Why don't you just send them your manuscript?"
I explained that the manuscript went through internal changes from our account team, then changes from the client, then revisions from the client's legal department, and so it was no longer an accurate reflection of the final, approved creative.
"But can't you just update it?"
Mind you, in the time it's taken us to have this conversation, she could have just done as requested. It would have taken her less than 5 minutes to copy the creative file and convert it to a word doc.
"No," I said, trying to patient. I explained that when legal revisions and fine print are involved, it's better to not try to reproduce it. It's safer to convert it. She was still resistant.
"Just give me your creative file. I'll do it," I finally said. And I did.
Monday we had to retrieve the project and she said she had no recollection of it. I reminded her that it was the one where I made the word doc's because she wouldn't.
"Why wouldn't I? It would only take 5 minutes. That doesn't sound like me!" She actually insisted that she wasn't the lazy slug she was.
Then yesterday, I was fiddling around with LinkedIn, checking on a coworker's rumored promotion. I saw that my high school friend Judy tried to contact me through this networking site, and mentioned her sister's illness. I said, "Oh, no, I don't feel like dealing with this right now." It was more to myself than to anyone else but because we sit on top of one another ...
Annoying Coworker said, "So just call her."
"It's complicated," I said. "And just seeing her message leaves me feeling really sad and guilty." (Actually, "responsible" would have been a better word than "guilty.")
Annoying Coworkers snapped, "Well, that's your problem."
"She's telling me her sister had a massive heart attack and almost died. That kinda thing always bothers me," I snapped back. And haven't spoken to her since.
The week started when we revisited a project we did six months ago, last February. Our client had approved a piece of creative and wanted the content -- just the content -- in a word file. She had the creative and so I asked her if she would make it a word doc.
Oh, my! You would have thought I'd asked her for an internal organ!
"But it started out as a manuscript. Why don't you just send them your manuscript?"
I explained that the manuscript went through internal changes from our account team, then changes from the client, then revisions from the client's legal department, and so it was no longer an accurate reflection of the final, approved creative.
"But can't you just update it?"
Mind you, in the time it's taken us to have this conversation, she could have just done as requested. It would have taken her less than 5 minutes to copy the creative file and convert it to a word doc.
"No," I said, trying to patient. I explained that when legal revisions and fine print are involved, it's better to not try to reproduce it. It's safer to convert it. She was still resistant.
"Just give me your creative file. I'll do it," I finally said. And I did.
Monday we had to retrieve the project and she said she had no recollection of it. I reminded her that it was the one where I made the word doc's because she wouldn't.
"Why wouldn't I? It would only take 5 minutes. That doesn't sound like me!" She actually insisted that she wasn't the lazy slug she was.
Then yesterday, I was fiddling around with LinkedIn, checking on a coworker's rumored promotion. I saw that my high school friend Judy tried to contact me through this networking site, and mentioned her sister's illness. I said, "Oh, no, I don't feel like dealing with this right now." It was more to myself than to anyone else but because we sit on top of one another ...
Annoying Coworker said, "So just call her."
"It's complicated," I said. "And just seeing her message leaves me feeling really sad and guilty." (Actually, "responsible" would have been a better word than "guilty.")
Annoying Coworkers snapped, "Well, that's your problem."
"She's telling me her sister had a massive heart attack and almost died. That kinda thing always bothers me," I snapped back. And haven't spoken to her since.
2013 August Happiness Challenge: Day 7
Today's happiness: my iPod. I've been carrying this old thing -- an old school iPod classic -- for so long that I take it for granted. But it really is a worthy companion.
Lately I've been immersing myself in audiobooks I'd forgotten about. Elizabeth by J. Randy Taraborelli is the one that's currently got my interest. The book itself is not so great, but Taylor's life (6 marriages to 5 husbands, countless illnesses and surgeries, and a pair of Oscars) can't NOT be interesting.
Because I loaded up the iPod myself, any content I land on is going to make me happy. It truly is an awesome invention. Thank you, Steve Jobs.
Because I loaded up the iPod myself, any content I land on is going to make me happy. It truly is an awesome invention. Thank you, Steve Jobs.
Looking good!
I've seen Lana twice at the health club this week, and am pleased to report she looks wonderful.
Lana is a coworker of mine -- a woman I liked and respected -- who was let go last February. Her journey has been an interesting one. When she was first laid off, she was philosophical, even enthusiastic. She didn't take the company-sponsored outplacement counseling because she was sure she wouldn't need it. She had an interview set up right away and there were promises of more. Besides, she wanted to finish some redecorating projects she'd begun on her apartment.
Then her prospects dried up. She started freaking out and wanted to come back to us -- the agency that had laid her off -- as a freelancer. I did what I could, even though I was certain that was a dead end. After all, they didn't let her go, just to bring her back and pay her out of a different pot of money.
Just as she began to totally panic because the wolf was too close to the door, a freelance job at another agency -- as prestigious as ours, maybe even more so -- opened up. I found out by talking to her that the gigs been extended: "through the summer" now seems to be "through the end of the year." She's hoping that they will hire her for real, benefits and everything, after the holidays.
She's also begun working out at my health club but with great success because she has a personal trainer. I saw her on the rowing machine and she looked so happy.
So it looks like Lana is moving forward. After seeing her, I felt sorry for me, not her, because the guy we replaced her with is an annoying putz and I miss her.
Lana is a coworker of mine -- a woman I liked and respected -- who was let go last February. Her journey has been an interesting one. When she was first laid off, she was philosophical, even enthusiastic. She didn't take the company-sponsored outplacement counseling because she was sure she wouldn't need it. She had an interview set up right away and there were promises of more. Besides, she wanted to finish some redecorating projects she'd begun on her apartment.
Then her prospects dried up. She started freaking out and wanted to come back to us -- the agency that had laid her off -- as a freelancer. I did what I could, even though I was certain that was a dead end. After all, they didn't let her go, just to bring her back and pay her out of a different pot of money.
Just as she began to totally panic because the wolf was too close to the door, a freelance job at another agency -- as prestigious as ours, maybe even more so -- opened up. I found out by talking to her that the gigs been extended: "through the summer" now seems to be "through the end of the year." She's hoping that they will hire her for real, benefits and everything, after the holidays.
She's also begun working out at my health club but with great success because she has a personal trainer. I saw her on the rowing machine and she looked so happy.
So it looks like Lana is moving forward. After seeing her, I felt sorry for me, not her, because the guy we replaced her with is an annoying putz and I miss her.