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Jibralta

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So glad that your painting classes with the other teacher is over. I hope this hasn't scarred you or stopped you from painting on your own. You're very good.

 

I've been horse riding in Squamish, Pemberton and Langley (BC). I stayed in Pemberton with a friend on a ranch and it was one of the fondest experiences ever and a great way to get out and explore the surrounding mountains. Also learned a thing or two about stubborn horses but didn't have any issues luckily. We crossed streams, went through lots of brush and saw the countryside and it was a great get away. This might sound odd but I love the smell of horses. Reminds me of the smell of my old dog's fur and being out and about. Nostalgic and comforting.

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This might sound odd but I love the smell of horses. Reminds me of the smell of my old dog's fur and being out and about. Nostalgic and comforting.

 

Me too.

 

My poor boyfriend hasn't learned how to appreciate it..... yet.

 

So glad that your painting classes with the other teacher is over. I hope this hasn't scarred you or stopped you from painting on your own. You're very good.

 

Thanks :) I will most likely paint again. I'm a little leery of taking another class, but there are plenty of instructional videos on youtube that I can pick and choose from!

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That's funny because I saw painting classes at my local community center and hesitated. I know it's not good to be closed off about it. I'm thinking about performing arts/theatre classes for adults but just missed the boat and have to wait for the 2020 schedule.

 

I think youtube is the thing to do. There's also something about having your own set up at home. I have my old rags and an old big easel my husband gave me when we were dating. It's a lot more comfortable doing it at home and I prefer natural light. I haven't really been inspired at all to paint for awhile but love your paintings so far. Hope you get to do more of it. I'm always a fan of galleries and museums too.

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  • 3 weeks later...

I think I was made of bridge cables and rubber bands when I was a little kid. I was very rough and seemingly indestructible. I loved running, climbing, tumbling--anything where I could put my body to the test. I was a master at the monkey bars. I could muscle up and stand on top of them, or swing from my knees until I gained enough momentum to disengage and flip onto my feet. In the evenings, I would spend hours in the living room, practicing whatever gymnastic exercises I could think up. I couldn't stop moving and no matter how ridiculous the stunt, I never got hurt.

 

I felt like I could outperform anyone and I generally could until about 2nd or 3rd grade. After that, hormones gradually started to influence our growth. Boys started to be able to outrun me and do more pull-ups than me. But until that point, I was pretty much on top of the world. I was brave and I wanted to be a hero. Going into the first grade, I lived for the opportunity to stand up for my friends. And one day, during a first grade morning recess, I had my inaugural opportunity.

 

The memory is extremely hazy now--I actually can't remember which friend I stood up for, Jaimee or Michelle. They were both my neighbors. We walked to school together. Michelle was a year older than Jaimee and me, and she already had friends in the school. My 'cousin' Jennifer also went to the school (and was also a neighbor), but she was two years older.* Michelle and Jennifer seemed like seasoned veterans to a couple of first graders like Jaimee and me.

 

Anyway, whoever it was that I stood up for, Michelle was there and she witnessed it. And through her, the older kids learned of it and I became a bit of a sensation.

 

What happened was, a couple of older boys had been bothering my friend. She told me about it, and I decided to confront the boys on the following morning. Michelle attempted to dissuade me by telling me that the boys were tough, but that only made me want to confront them even more. And confront them, I did.

 

Like I said, I no longer remember a lot of the details or even who I'd stood up for. I just remember that the confrontation was uncomfortable, that I was successful, and that the whole thing created a bit of a sensation. Pretty soon, other older kids were dragging me along with them to confront their enemies. It's all really a haze to me at this point... I just remember the fear and the thrill of standing up to a blur of faces that seemed two feet taller than I was.

 

At one point, during the winter months, I stumbled into a real oh sh*t moment that is still to this day a life lesson. It happened when one older boy didn't back down from me. Instead, he called my bluff and decided to attack. And not only did he attack, but four of his friends joined him.

 

I didn't know what to do. Yes, I always wanted to fight and I felt capable of fighting.... but five people??

 

I ran. I hated it; it was against my ideal, but I ran. I was scared.

 

Eventually, I couldn't run anymore. I stopped. The boys caught up to me and surrounded me. I was really afraid. I'd never been in this situation and I didn't know what they would do. But whatever they had planned, I wasn't going to let it happen. One of the boys made like he was going to hit me. I lunged right back at him, and he retreated. And interestingly, that's all it took. Each boy in turn attempted to intimidate me. I dished it right back and they all flinched. None dared to actually fight.

 

I learned a lot that day about groups.

 

Another life lesson--and really the main reason I'm writing this whole narrative-- came through my cousin Jennifer. Even at the early age of 8, she was quite socially-oriented. Apparently, a very 'cool' girl in her grade (Andrea) requested to meet me during lunch. Jennifer brought me to the lunch table where Andrea sat with all of her friends. As she walked me over, Jennifer emphasized that it was a great privilege to be meeting Andrea and admonished me to act appropriately.

 

I thought this was ridiculous. Why should I treat these girls any differently than I treated my own friends? I was determined to act normally.

 

The interaction went like this: Jennifer introduced me. We probably all said "hi." I sat at the table and Andrea started talking to me.

 

Andrea: "Jibralta?"

Me: "What?"

Andrea: "We all respond with 'yes,' not 'what.' Let's try it again: Jibralta?"

Me: "What?"

Andrea: "If you respond with 'what,' we won't respond to you. Jibralta?"

Me: "What?"

 

Obviously a dismal failure. The girls tuned me out for the rest of the lunch. My cousin was furious--and actually we've NEVER spoken of it since and it's been over 30 years hahahaha.

 

I always knew the situation was ridiculous, but writing it out makes it seem preposterous. It actually reminds me a lot of the movie Heathers. Except I was 5 or 6 years old and Jennifer and her friends were 7 or 8 years old. Cray cray.

 

Anyhoo, the reason that I bring ALL of this up is that I was just reading an article about Red Auerbach. It talked about the Tuesday round-table lunches that he had with friends at a Chinese restaurant in DC. Understandably, it was a great privilege to be invited to one of these lunches, and a greater privilege to be invited as a regular. I came to this part where Chris Wallace, son of Mike Wallace, received an invitation. It describes Chris Wallace's anxiety:

 

Chris didn't bring his father but showed up the next week, nervous as a cat. "It was funny," he said later. "I've covered summits, I've interviewed presidents and heads of state, I've been on live national television more times than I can count, and I can't remember ever being quite as nervous as walking into the China Doll that day.

 

"Part of it was Red, knowing who he was and what he meant to sports, but the other part of it was feeling a little bit like I was being invited up to the tree house for the first time by the other kids. I didn't want to mess up."

 

Right away, I remembered that long-gone lunchtime exchange with Jennifer, Andrea, and Andrea's friends. I thought, "Oh man, I'd never get invited back to Red's lunch!"

 

I have to admit, I've thought about that elementary school lunch a lot throughout my life, especially when I was in grade school, middle school, and high school. I wondered how things might have turned out if I'd only responded with "yes?" instead of, "what?" And I even thought about it in my 20s and 30s, when I cursed myself for being so strong-willed: Why couldn't I just settle for what other people say is alright, and be happy with it?

 

But now I think I am finally starting to accept that my 6-year old self had some wisdom. I could never be happy conforming to (what I think) is unnecessary nonsense. Even at age 6, I didn't have time for that crap.

 

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*I put 'cousin' in quotes because Jennifer wasn't related to my family; she was the daughter of my mother's good friend. But Jennifer and I called each other cousins and we did not get along AT ALL. We never understood each other, and still don't understand each other to this day. But we STILL call each other cousins, and as far as we're concerned, we ARE cousins.

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As far as fighting the boys - that was my sister. And she usually won. We had lots of practice with three older brothers.

 

It actually became one of my favorite pastimes during recess and after school, and it often didn't involve any hostility at all. Some of us just enjoyed sparring.

 

Funny story: My last boss (who I have alternately referred to as both "Matt" and "Mark" (oops)) was the same way as a kid. (At work, Matt had this habit of 'downloading' on people. He'd just wander up to you and start talking about random, non-work-related things. So I learned all about his daughters, fishing, things he liked to cook, etc.). One day, he randomly started telling me about fighting when he was a kid. He told me that he and his friend used to get off of their school bus, drop their books on the ground, and start taking swings at each other. I was like, "I did that, too!!!" And it was sort of a bond between us after that.

 

It seemed like such incongruous behavior coming from him because his demeanor is so gentle and laid back. But I understood that because I have a similar demeanor. I don't like hurting people or being aggressive; I just like fighting. I think it's the Irish in me. Matt was even more Irish than I am, so there you go.

 

And oh my goodness, that Andrea. It does remind me if the movie, the Heathers.

 

I know. In retrospect it seems so much creepier than it actually was. She didn't seem that sinister at all when we were kids, though. She wasn't a bully or anything, and I don't think she was ever truly mean to anyone. Just sort of an elitist lol.

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Tim, on the other hand, was like a bull in a china shop. I actually thought of him as a rhinoceros. He was a very nice, fair guy. But if you were taking too long on something or thinking a dumb thought--watch out. He'd run you through faster than you realized what was happening. Then he'd go back to being normal.

 

I remember one time, Matt left me an assignment as he was getting ready to go on holiday. He said, "If they give you any trouble with xyz, get Tim to back you up." I was like, yeah. Matt was the soft speaker. Tim was the big stick.

 

I think that Shannon is a lot like Tim. She's nice. But if you take too long or do something wrong, you're dead.

 

Oh god, Shannon is a real b*tch. I can't stand her sometimes. Yes, she is knowledgeable, and yes, I'd rather work for her than for Frank any day. But DAMN. What a b*tch.

 

Things get stressful in that department pretty fast. And everyone gets snappy, even Jason. But ESPECIALLY Shannon.

 

One night, last week or the week before, after one of Shannon's 'episodes,' Jason actually followed me out the door at the end of the day to tell me not to worry, that he had my back. That the expectations were unreasonable, etc.

 

That was nice.

 

But yeah, he can get snappy, too.

 

Despite the stress, I'm still pretty happy with where I am. The frustrations are that there's no training, that I'm being thrown into fix disasters that I didn't create on projects that I've never seen before, and that the timelines are always unrealistic. The timelines would be tough for someone who worked in this department for a year and was trained in their standards. But they are impossible for someone like me. Fixing other people's mistakes at the same time as I am learning what's correct is not exactly efficient.

 

I worked 12 hours last weekend, in part because I've missed time due to my spinal injections, but also because the work load is so crazy.

 

As usual, Paul, the finance director, was there. He's a good guy. Funny, but also no-nonsense.

 

I complained to him about Shannon. He said, "She's a b*tch."

 

LOL. I love how people just say things like that at this job.

 

I told him, "Yeah, she's a B*TCH. But I'd rather work for her than for Frank! At least Shannon knows what she's doing."

 

Paul said, "Frank's a loser."

 

I love that guy.

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About two years ago, one of my boyfriend's best friends (Dave), asked me to help him renovate his house.

 

I was very reluctant to accept because I felt like I didn't yet have enough experience to properly manage the project.

 

Dave's house is 120 years old and has been converted from a single family home to a duplex, then back to a single family home. It has a lot of battle scars.

 

The renovations were all done on the cheap, and the poor quality construction damaged the house. A column was removed from the basement, causing the floors on the upper level to sag. To make matters worse, many of the girders in the basement were notched to accommodate the numerous renovations. There were a lot of other issues, as well. But the column thing gives you an idea of what kind of idiots were making the decisions.

 

However, Dave was persistent. We've known each other since high school, he knows what my skills have always been, and most of all, he trusts me. I couldn't shake him lol. So, I took the job on the condition that I could bring in a more senior architect (Joe) to oversee the whole project.

 

When Joe saw Dave's house, he said it was the worst house he's ever seen. And Joe is 75 years old!

 

But we took the job and we're charging Dave a very, very low "friends and family" rate because Dave and his wife (Meredith) really don't have that much money.

 

We broke the project down into five phases and agreed to charge in installments by phase, so that the project could be stretched out over time and Dave and Meredith could hold on to their money as long as possible. One of the benefits of this structure is that there's no set timeline for the project. We proceed as funds dictate. Unsurprisingly, progress has been in fits and starts (which is fine with me).

 

We charged $1800 for the first schematic design and design development phase. This included a field measurement and a digital model of the existing structure. Dave took about 6 months to pay me for the field measurement and model portion ($600), so I required that he pay me the remaining $1200 upfront before Joe and I started working on the design.

 

Dave delivered the $1200 I guess last March, and Joe made a first pass at a new layout for the first and second floors. In July, Dave, Meredith, Joe, and I met, reviewed the design, and identified what they liked and what they wanted to change.

 

After that, the project cooled down again.

 

The last time I saw Dave and Meredith socially, which was in early August, I got the impression that something had happened to them financially. Something negative. It came from Meredith's gentle interjection, something like, "It's going to be a while before we can afford the construction." The way she said it cast doubt upon the usefulness of pursuing more design work. Like, why pay to design something that we may never be able to build?

 

A couple months later, after basically no forward progress, I said to my boyfriend, "I think I'm going to give Dave's money back."

 

The unused $1200 had been sitting in my reserve account untouched, and I was starting to feel guilty for keeping it when I wasn't actually doing any work and when Dave and Meredith were obviously in denial about their ability to continue with the renovation.

 

To be honest, their state of denial wasn't exactly obvious to me at that point. I just sensed something was "off," and I sensed it had to do with money. I figured I'd pay Joe $200 for his work, and give Dave back $1000.

 

I actually just realized about the denial part today.

 

Anyway, my boyfriend didn't seem convinced that I should give any money back, so I shelved the idea for a little while.

 

But then about three weeks ago, the idea came back to me in earnest. This is something I should do. I was sitting at work in the early morning and I just picked up my phone and texted Dave. I said, "I still have $1100* of your money here, unspent. Do you want it back for the holidays? I know money is tough and you guys aren't in a rush to move forward with a major project. I was thinking maybe it made more sense for you to have your money now, and then pay when you are ready to move forward again. Makes no difference to me; it's just sitting in my reserve account."

 

Dave seemed a little reluctant at first. But the next day, after speaking to Meredith, he agreed. I transferred the money back to him and didn't think about it again.... until Wednesday night.

 

It was one of those sleepless nights that happen every once and a while. I came out into the living room and sat in front of the computer, mindlessly surfing the internet. My boyfriend came out soon after, and we started searching Zillow for a house that was for sale near the restaurant we'd gone to that evening.

 

Pretty soon, we were looking at listings in neighboring towns. I clicked on one of the lowest prices I saw, and was stunned when Dave's house came up in the picture. It was in foreclosure, scheduled for auction in January 2020. I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach and I'm sure Arnold felt the same way as we stared at the photo, completely helpless to do anything.

 

We were like, He must have known about this for a long time. Why didn't he say anything?

 

But knowing Dave for as long as we both have, we know that he is not always honest with himself about things--how can he be honest with others?

 

We're not going to let on that we know about the foreclosure.

 

I just feel so bad. But I'm glad I gave the money back.

 

I told Joe about the whole thing, and I think he thinks I'm crazy for giving the money back as well. But I don't care. I wasn't using it.

 

____________________________________

*Yes, I upped the amount.

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When I first joined this company, I sat pretty close to the billing manager, Melissa. She's a nice lady. Pretty funny, actually.

 

One day, maybe six months after I started there, she came in and put this giant bag of costume jewelry on my desk. She said, "Just go through this and take whatever you want. I have to get rid of it. I don't want to throw it out. I want someone to have it. I thought of you when I saw it, some of it may be your style."

 

I never wear jewelry, so I thought that was odd. But I figured I'd look through it.

 

There was a lot of stuff there. Some of it was nice, but most of it I had no interest in. When my coworker, Alana, came in, I called her over and showed her the bag. I said, "See if you want any of this stuff."

 

When Melissa saw both of us going through the bag, she stopped over and said, "What are you guys doing?"

 

I said, "I was just showing Alana what was in here."

 

Melissa looked slightly displeased, and it dawned on me that Melissa had brought that jewelry in specifically for me. I didn't understand it, but I figured I would honor it.

 

So, when Alana was done going through it, I packed it up. I took it home with me that night and went through it. I picked out pieces that I liked. Then I brought the remainder back and gave it to Melissa.

 

She thanked me and told me that her son's ex girlfriend used to sell the jewelry, and that she (Melissa) had ended up with a lot of it after they broke up. I realized that she was close to tears when she was telling me this.

 

Later, I overheard her talking to Justin about this girl. I gathered that she was troubled in some way--maybe drugs, maybe mental illness. I don't really know what the deal was, but it made Melissa sad. Somehow, I reminded Melissa of her, which is I guess why she wanted me to have the jewelry.

 

Ironically, Melissa unloaded all of that jewelry on me right after I had purged a sh*t-ton of clothes and accessories from my wardrobe! So, there I was piling crap back onto shelves and racks.

 

It's been sitting there for the last year, unused. Finally, today, I started packing it into some small boxes so that I can store it along with other accessories that I don't wear!

 

Uggh, this whole storage thing is so stupid. It's weird how we can develop a sense of responsibility for objects.

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Shannon's rating on the B*tchometer has gone down a bit. I am starting to realize that part of the reason I get slammed with work is that Jason doesn't always understand the concept of prioritization, and thus thinks everything needs to get done at the same time. Kind of reminds me of Catherine. *gasp*

 

I am guilty of going to Jason before going to Shannon because Jason is more pleasant. Unfortunately, although Jason is very knowledgeable in a lot of areas, he doesn't always make the best decisions.

 

Shannon's frustration level is usually at least 7 out of 10 and I don't want to be the one to set her off the edge with another problem! But the good part about Shannon--one of them--is that you can talk back. She really does respond to common sense. And she makes good decisions.

 

So, in the long run, going to Shannon with issues is the better option.

 

I guess I just have to put my big-girl pants on and start going to Shannon instead of Jason.

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I forgot all about this until just now, but a little over six years ago, I started working for my previous employer and absolutely hated my department. But I'd moved and signed a new lease, so I was pretty much stuck making the best out of it. One of the things I did to cope was put on my noise-cancelling headphones and stream thunderstorm and rain videos as I worked. It was really nice.

 

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Shannon's rating on the B*tchometer has gone down a bit. I am starting to realize that part of the reason I get slammed with work is that Jason doesn't always understand the concept of prioritization, and thus thinks everything needs to get done at the same time. Kind of reminds me of Catherine. *gasp*

 

I am guilty of going to Jason before going to Shannon because Jason is more pleasant. Unfortunately, although Jason is very knowledgeable in a lot of areas, he doesn't always make the best decisions.

 

Shannon's frustration level is usually at least 7 out of 10 and I don't want to be the one to set her off the edge with another problem! But the good part about Shannon--one of them--is that you can talk back. She really does respond to common sense. And she makes good decisions.

 

So, in the long run, going to Shannon with issues is the better option.

 

I guess I just have to put my big-girl pants on and start going to Shannon instead of Jason.

 

Yes indeed, go to the one that has common sense and makes good decisions. I bet, in time, she will come to respect you. In the meantime, simply brace yourself and go with it.

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I'm really irritated with Jason at the moment. He was supposedly "at my disposal" on Thursday, but kept putting off helping me. I think he helped with two hours worth of work, total. That would be fine if they moved the deadline back, but they didn't. They should have, but they didn't.

 

I had an immense amount of pressure on me all week, and this culminated in a vicious headache all day yesterday. Plus, I had heartburn or acid reflux or something--which I never get. I'm sure it was from the stress. Because of it, I didn't want to take anything for the headache--I was afraid it would make me throw up.

 

By noon the headache was unbearable, so I left. I did feel bad for that because it meant they wouldn't meet their deadline, but I simply couldn't think straight. And I have to protect my wellbeing--those guys certainly aren't going to!!

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Last Wednesday, I was in the print room putting together a set of drawings when Justin came in to weigh and stamp an envelope. I heard him say, "What the-- This can't be right..." and then laugh. He came over to me and said, "Does this look right to you?"

 

I looked at the envelope. It had been written out by Mark, one of the owners, and was addressed to a Dennis and Margie Smith.* Except Mark had misspelled the man's name and written it very sloppily so that it looked like "Penis."

 

We had a good laugh over it and Justin wondered out loud if he should let the envelope go out like that. It seemed like an important letter.

 

I said, "I don't know, but I have to show this to my boyfriend." I took the letter back to my desk and took a picture of it with my phone. I saw Jason at his desk and (as I was not yet annoyed with him (as I still believed he was going to help me)) I showed him the envelope.

 

But Jason did not react with the mirth that I expected. I don't think he found the penis humor as funny as I did. Oops :D

__________________________

*Most names have been changed, of course.

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Jib, I lost count of the number of people that got fired since you started this job! It doesn't make sense to fire employees so frequently. I mean, this has a negative impact on the company. They lose money and time to retrain people. It seems the upper management is inept if anything.

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Jib, I lost count of the number of people that got fired since you started this job! It doesn't make sense to fire employees so frequently. I mean, this has a negative impact on the company. They lose money and time to retrain people. It seems the upper management is inept if anything.

 

I know. I tallied it a while back and I think it was more than 20. I totally agree with you that it is nonsensical and a failure on the part of upper management. I don't know if they will be able to turn this situation around. There is a core of "lifers" so to speak, that have been there upwards of 15 years and they all throw their weight around like angry children. It's a family company and I think the owners feel a sense of obligation to them. Plus, they take care of their major problems.

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Plus, they take care of their major problems.

 

I think I meant to write, "major clients" here, but I guess I was too preoccupied with the major problems that I see!

 

Honestly, I think about this management failure every day. It's hard not to, because it plays out constantly throughout my workday. I find it endlessly frustrating, but I'm also trying to learn from it. As the saying goes, "if you can't set a good example, you'll just have to serve as a horrible warning."

 

Two of the owners basically grew up in this company. So, even though they have years of experience, they have years of one experience. The third owner, Ivan, is a creature of habit. Very methodical and linear. I'm not 100% certain, but I think he's been here for the majority of his professional career.

 

All three owners seem to be checked out in some way. I think they rely far too much on people they've designated as managers. Some of the managers they've chosen are very poor, clearly based more on wishful thinking than performance. Some of their managers barely deign to show up for work, and ride roughshod over the office policies. I suspect some of these managers have developed very good relationships with the firm's major clientele. If they were fired, some of these clients might follow them and it could result in a significant loss of revenue to the firm.

 

Another thing: the owners simply don't have boots on the ground. They don't truly enforce their own office policies and they don't seem to realize that they don't have any office standards where output is concerned. They apparently think they have a standard, but they clearly don't. Anyone looking at the drawings that come out of this place can tell there are many cooks in the kitchen.

 

Sometimes I wonder if the revolving door is part of their business strategy. I think a lot about the way that I was hired, and how my first project was structured. First, they lured me in with a nice salary. Then they assigned me to a project manager (Catherine) who was also a new employee--she'd just been there a couple weeks longer than me. The one and only project we worked on was for a new client. It was a big project, and to me it seemed important. But in reality, it was zero risk to the company. They didn't rely on that client for revenue at all. If the project failed (and it did), they could just lob that whole limb off--project and associated employees--without blinking. Pretty clever, really. And horrifying when I first perceived that possibility two summers ago.

 

I've watched the progress of some people into the firm and out of the firm. It seems like Ivan is a test of sorts--one that I passed, thankfully. Like, if you f*ck up or are suspected of f*cking up, you get sent to Ivan and he makes a final determination. I watched it happen to two other people after me, and they were subsequently fired. Ivan is the sh*tlist.

 

I'm holding on here because I think there's something in it for me. The company could be slowly dying, but I can still get something out of it while it's still alive. The person I'm working for right now is really, really good. Probably the best I've met so far. And the projects are simple and complex at the same time, which is perfect for learning.

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I'm really irritated with Jason at the moment. He was supposedly "at my disposal" on Thursday, but kept putting off helping me. I think he helped with two hours worth of work, total. That would be fine if they moved the deadline back, but they didn't. They should have, but they didn't.

 

I had an immense amount of pressure on me all week, and this culminated in a vicious headache all day yesterday. Plus, I had heartburn or acid reflux or something--which I never get. I'm sure it was from the stress. Because of it, I didn't want to take anything for the headache--I was afraid it would make me throw up.

 

By noon the headache was unbearable, so I left. I did feel bad for that because it meant they wouldn't meet their deadline, but I simply couldn't think straight. And I have to protect my wellbeing--those guys certainly aren't going to!!

 

Last Friday, I left work early with a screaming headache, deadlines be damned.

 

The day had started out well. Mark, the owner, told me to bug him about signing some drawings. He said, "I don’t mind because I like you. It’s not like Pratima, who was constantly in here pestering me." Pratima was the woman who was fired while she was on vacation. Weird that Mark brought that up, but.... whatever.

 

I still had hope that Jason was really going to help me.

 

But by mid-morning, it was obvious that I was on my own and I was really angry.

 

So, I went home and spent most of the rest of the day writing a long letter to Mark about how f*cked up Shannon and Jason were. Fortunately, I was so angry that I couldn't string together a complete thought. I just kept cutting myself off midsentence and starting another angry thought. So, I postponed sending that email to Mark.

 

On Saturday, I woke up thinking, it would probably be more in my interest to send this letter to Shannon. So that's what I did. By the end of Saturday, I had something like seven pages worth of complaints. Obviously, TMI that nobody wants to wade through. Plus, one of my major complaints with this company is the finger-pointing, and at least five of the seven pages I wrote consisted of me pointing my finger at Jason, Shannon, and the company at large. Not a great strategy.

 

So, on Sunday, I gave the thing a good edit, removed the finger-pointing, and presented the situation and the problems with a positive, proactive attitude. I also made sure to give her some information about my background, that I'd changed careers in my 30s. It's fine for her to have high expectations for me, but they should be realistic given that I have 10 years less experience in this field than she does.

 

I sent the letter late morning and put it out of my mind for the rest of the day. I felt better than I had in weeks. Actually, I felt better the moment I started writing a letter to someone because it made me feel like I was taking action. By the end of the weekend, my acid reflux symptoms had diminished completely.

 

When I came into the office on Monday, Shannon's response was waiting for me. She was sympathetic to the level of stress that I'd been under and reaffirmed her belief that I was a good fit for her department. As I suspected, she hadn't been aware of my background. She'd assumed that since we were the same age, we had the same amount of experience..... nope!

 

Anyway, the response was positive, she was willing to work with me, and last week was a lot better than the week before--except for some dark moments when Jason asked me for my status on a code-comment issue.... that just pissed me off because I'm still pissed at him.

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Jib, I lost count of the number of people that got fired since you started this job! It doesn't make sense to fire employees so frequently. I mean, this has a negative impact on the company. They lose money and time to retrain people. It seems the upper management is inept if anything.

 

This thought occurred to me yesterday, and I think it crystallizes the situation nicely: The only people who are held accountable here are the newcomers, who come in and out like there’s a turnstile. There seems to be some sort of tenure here. Once you hit a few years, you get to pick and choose your responsibilities.

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This thought occurred to me yesterday, and I think it crystallizes the situation nicely: The only people who are held accountable here are the newcomers, who come in and out like there’s a turnstile. There seems to be some sort of tenure here. Once you hit a few years, you get to pick and choose your responsibilities.

I commend you for staying there. I would have said the "f*ck off" long time ago. It's a toxic work culture!

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I commend you for staying there. I would have said the "f*ck off" long time ago. It's a toxic work culture!

 

I agree. But I'm finding that this whole industry has a toxic culture. I have seen this at every employer. There's no escape.

 

The problem is not architecture, but what architects have allowed themselves to become: functionally insular and egotistical to the point of stupidity. They think they are elite artists. They forget they are here to build buildings and cities.

 

My long term goal is to go into business for myself, so I have to dance with the devil a little until I can achieve a degree of experience that will enable me to do things my way.

 

Every day at work, I'm confronted with examples of absurd elitism. I make notes on it!! It keeps me sane and it's also very instructive: How not to be, and why not to be that way.

 

I find value at this particular job for two reasons: First, there are a couple very talented and knowledgeable architects that I can learn from (Mitchell and Shannon). And second, this company has all of the consulting trades in house: structural, mechanical, plumbing, electric, civil. So, I am able to coordinate with them directly. This frees me from the ivory tower than most architects reside in and will make me more competitive in the future.

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