Today I celebrate my 13th year
as an indentured servant at my place of employment. The company I started with is a far cry from where I finally ended up. In 1997, I was hired as whore, slave Chief Architect, drafting plans with a pencil and straight edge and calculating allocation costs with an architect’s scale. I implemented a CAFM (Computer Aided Facility Management) system which I still use today. I was a big fish in a little pond appreciated and received gifts at Christmas from our vendors and our Business Managers and we partied every week. Being in Facilities, we were given lunch by the catering company and we were big shits had some clout in the building. My best friend was an Afghanistan nut guy that sat outside my office. On my first day, he offered to buy me coffee. He showed me how to work the coffee machine and asked for a quarter. He said the quarter slot in the machine didn’t work, and he collected the money. I paid him for a week before I realized no one else was paying for coffee.
Yet life in Facilities was good.
the world caved in we were bought. By the Swedes.
Management changed within our department. Our beloved leader was relegated to a minor position and a new department
maniac head was installed. I’ll call her “Ducky”. She had no experience in Facility Management and ruled with an iron fist micro-managed everything. When she wasn’t sending me suggestive emails she was drinking the vodka she stashed in the freezer in the conference room. She forbade discouraged us from accepting gifts from vendors, yet she went on golf weekends and drank the booze given to her by our contractors. I loathed liked her quirkiness- we often played practical jokes on each other- yet she was the only boss that ever made me cry.
After she secretly taped her boss singing Irish shanty songs and playing them back to co-workers, management and his daughter, she was
booted out on her ass let go.
rejoiced was heartbroken because I knew I’d have to train another boss.
The next boss was everything Ducky was without the booze. He was a tyrant who told me at the end of the year I owed him sick days. He demanded we travel to NJ once a week for meetings. (Traveling to our office in NJ entailed taking a train, a bus and a boat.) While meeting with him for my yearly review, he
trashed talked about my co-workers and never really got around to discussing my work and where I was headed. I never received a raise or a bonus under this megalomaniac manager. I had little to say about anything our team was doing and I was a little fish in a big pond got lost in the big picture. My executive Director didn’t know my name and called me “Autocad Lady”.
Finally, I ended up under Mr. C. He was a Project Manager before he became the Director and we were friends prior to me now reporting to him. (We used to go to lunch a few times a week to the vegetarian Indian place on 23rd St.) He has an architectural background so he appreciates what I do and the
trials and tribulations responsiblities that go along with my job. I’ve been serving under reporting to Mr. C. for the past few years. In that time he’s acquired an ass-licker assistant that does all the strategic planning that I used to do. I used to consider us arch-enemies rivals, but I’ve come to respect and like the guy so I can’t contemplate running him over with a bus complain too much about having my duties reduced.
It gives me time for other things.
In the 13 years I’ve been here, I’ve managed to
ruin run two side businesses and have done countless projects for the church, Girl Scouts and Youth Group. I’ve made Christmas cards, wreaths, worked on my cross-stitching and surfed the internet from beginning to end. My time is basically my own because I’m awesome good at what I do. I’m fast, accurate and you don’t have to beat tell me twice how to do something. I learn from any mistakes I never make.
I was recently fired as a bank employee and rehired as a consultant working for the same bank. With this new company, I’ve been given adequate raises and bonuses. I’ve been given more responsibilities and am
whored out relied upon by Business Managers, Project Managers and vendors alike. Being fired was probably the best thing that happened to my financial situation me in my career.
Over the last 13 years, I’ve seen so many people come and go I feel like I’m the pivot on which the revolving door turns. Some have moved on to bigger and better things. Some have just moved on. Some were helped out of the building. Yet here I sit
shackled as people flow in and out of my life. As with any business, there are secrets and stories and drama. I know many.
Am I happy? I’m happy I’m employed, yes. I could do without the two-hour commute each way and getting dressed up every day is a pain in the ass. (I would much rather telecommute in my pajamas.) As for job satisfaction? That sense of inner fulfillment and pride achieved when performing my daily work? Um. Not much. I appreciate it when the people I deal with tell me I’m doing a great job but really, it’s
soul sucking just a job.
What I really want to be is
a balloon sculptor an Acupuncturist.
until I can come up with $60,000 for school, I’ll be grateful I have a job in this depressing economy, and hopefully I’ll be employed for another 13 years. Smash my head in with a hammer, please?