No matter where I work...

... it's always about ten degrees below what I would consider comfortable. I've had four jobs now that have required me to sit and stare at a screen for long periods of time and everywhere I've been, there comes a moment when I realize that I'm about a sweater away from frostbite.

Granted, I work in Seattle now and it's far colder in the winter time than in San Francisco but seriously, folks- hasn't anyone heard of this great invention called air conditioning?

I looked it up (um, after hours, of course) and even the fucking Romans had air conditioning. It baffles me that management thinks 50 degress is the optimal working temperature for people who sit still.... and don't move... except to type.

If I can barely feel my fingers as I type this entry- and I'm rocking thick tights, a sweater and a scarf - then it's too fucking cold. If the tip of my nose can cut steel and my breath comes out in puffs of smoke - then it's too fucking cold.

If the fucking animal cast of March of the Penguins is filming in the cube next to me and my secret stash of vodka is frozen in my drawer... I think you know where I'm going with this.

Eff it. I'm setting my action item list on fire for warmth.

-Signing off in Seattle (Antarctica)

Big Pussy

My client has these two nagging qualities that make working with him, um, somewhat difficult. These qualities are MIA-ness and being a Big Pussy (as we affectionately call him).

My frustration can succinctly be summed up in this haiku.

Where art thou BP?
Swimming with the jellyfish
Shirking all duties

- Signing off from San Francisco

I am LAME

And here is why:

1) I started my work day - in the office - at 6:30 a.m. PT.

2) I patiently waited on a conference line for 5...10...15 minutes as my client stood me and everyone else whose time he wanted to waste.

3) Only to promptly get on another conference call at 7 a.m. PT, sharp.

4) I lead 2 teams, yet had to do a weekly coverage search, which directly leads to the last reason why I am lame...

5) Note the day: Friday. Note the current time: 8:37 p.m. PT. Note my location: still in the mother fucking office.

Peace, dudes. I am done being lame.

-Signing off from San Francisco

You remember how to breathe... how?

There are groups of people in the workplace that everyone has, or will, come across. So far, San Francisco and I have written about the Eager Entitled Beaver (painfully young new hires who think the world of themselves) and the Power Rangers (folks who think their titles give them the right to act like they're beyond human).

There's another group that exists that baffles the hell out of me- the Incompetents.

The biggest compliment anyone can give you, in any job setting, is that you get it.

It.

The mystical It encompasses many things. You understand your industry, you learn by paying attention, asking questions and from your mistakes (and other people's mistakes) and you have a big, fat dose of Common Sense. The last is the most important and thus deserves capital letters.

I am quickly learning that Common Sense is not as common as the phrase might make it seem. Working with certain people have highlighted this to me in screaming orange ink with a neon green underline.

There's so much I could say in this post about the incompetence of some people but really, that could get me fired, no? I won't repeat tales told to me about such people in confused, yet infuriated, whispers. Because such people are confusing and... infuriating... and the rest of us can only talk about them through whispers because the extent of their incompetence leaves us nearly speechless.

The rest of us, the ones who were clearly in line the day the Great Almighty handed out the wondrous gift of Common Sense, all know the secret handshakes that come with having to work with an Incompetent. You know them- I bet you've done them before and shared them with colleagues:

-The eye roll of impatience
-The open mouth of speechlessness
-The stunned, quick blinking of disbelief
-The almost reflexive clenching of the hand
-The deep sigh of (mental) pain

There are more handshakes, I am sure, but I think these are the most common.

Now the group is made up of people who are generally smart people (they've made it up to this point without getting run over by a bus, in any case) but for some reason, just can't seem to get their shit together.

They drop the ball on projects, they forget to ask simple but important questions, they can't seem to learn from their environment. They don't listen or they forget things they've been asked to do. They don't take notes- or if they do, they're either bad notes or they lose them. They can't seem to create systems that help them succeed. They don't see the big picture (which doesn't make sense because they don't seem to notice the details, either).

They are missing that mysterious It factor that I wrote about earlier. Sure, they can write sentences and answer the phone. They sure as hell can nod. They can do basic office work. But making mental leaps of deduction, looking forward and planning ahead... skills like that seem to evade them.

So my dear colleagues, those of you with whom I've shared a 'handshake' with, please be patient and take heart. We'll cheer ourselves over a glass of wine or pint of beer during Happy Hour today, tomorrow, and all the days after. If anything, working with Incompetents always makes for good stories to tell and hear.

(If you think I'm a bitch by saying all this, chew on this- remember that last meeting you missed? Yeah, the one you missed because you didn't listen or you forgot to write it down?...)

-Signing off in Seattle

...also, your MySpace SUCKS

Dear reporter (who I wish I could name but can't because I want to stay employed),

I used to think you were cool. Seriously- not a lot of people get the 'cool' label in my book because in my line of work, not a lot of them seem human.

Yeah, I thought you were cool.

That is until you stood me and my client up for a briefing.

I asked you what time you would be available for this briefing. I ASKED YOU and then, even when I realized that I would have to get my ass up out of bed at 5:30am to be in the office by 6:30am to gear up for the call at 7am, I was fine with it.

My client, who lives and works on the other side of the planet, put this call on her schedule. I told you that it was nearly midnight her time so you knew. You knew what a pain in the ass it was going to be for the both of us to make this call.

So when you tell me, after the call time, after my client and I hang around and wait for you to dial in to the conference line I cleared for use, that you were "running late to the office" and missed the call- don't expect me to be all sunshine and giggles, okay?

First of all, who the hell strolls into the office at 10:00 am? That's not just running late, buddy. That's "Oh my God, I'm going to have diarhhea, I'm so effing late to work that it's not even funny, not even The Office would make an effing parody of this" late.

Also, I scheduled this briefing on Monday. Today is Wednesday. I don't know if you can do math, but that means you had two days to casually look at your calendar and realize that you had a call at 10am.

Maybe you were having a bad night last night and simply hit the snooze button one too many times this morning. Maybe you accidentally poked your eye out with a spork and had to run to the emergency room with the spork still embedded in the now empty socket that used to be occupied by your eyeball?

I don't care. You still suck.

This post would be much more eloquent and witty if I wasn't so goddamn TIRED AND SLEEPY.

Sincerely,
I want my frikin product back, you inconsiderate jerk.

P.S. Oh yeah, I saw your MySpace page. It sucks.

More stupid statements- from New York!

Another lovely PR executive in NYC had these gems to offer. Some people say the darndest (read: stupidest) things.

Two cases of "WTF did you just say?" :

Client: Ok, so what are the next steps here?
Supervisor: Well, we will do a 180 and loop back with you to aggregate the seperate compontents into their own categories.

----

Expert: Looks fine. I made one change in the release on page 2, see the attachment. We shouldn’t tell people that the toilet is one of the safest places in the home; this is overstating what the data says. We really would not want people spending more time then they need to there.
Supervisor: That's a good change. Thanks.

-Signing off from Seattle/New York (we are now bi-coastal)

Don't Believe What Your Mother Told You...

Because there are such things as stupid questions.

For example.

Me: "Hi, I'm done with the award. If you want to look it over it's saved in the drive."

Supervisor: "Ok. Which folder is it saved in?"

Pause.

Me: "The awards folder."


*****
Back-to-back stupid questions.

Me: "If you could pull together a media list of people that focus on virtualization that would be great."

Newly promoted AAE: "Yeah, do you think we can get an intern to do that?"

Me: "Actually, it would be much faster if you could do that since you're familiar with the technology."

Newly promoted AAE: "So...um, yeah. Well, how would you suggest I go about doing that?"


*****
Stand alone stupid question.

AAE: "How do I log-on to Business Wire to queue that?"


*****
Completely and totally innocent stupid question.

Me: "We have such a breadth of technology clients here at *bleep.* So one of the challenges is being able to understand each client's technology in order to effectively pitch them."

Intern: "Oh, ok. So what, exactly, does *bleep* do?"

Blink. Blink, blink.

Me: "Uh, well, *bleep* is a PR agency....public relations..."


*****
Non-work related stupid question.

Receptionist: "We have an appointment for eleven o'clock open."

Me: "Great, eleven would be perfect."

Receptionist: "Ok, you're confirmed for eleven on the 17th. Would you mind coming in 30 minutes early?"

-Signing off from San Francisco