Sweating the Small Stuff

The manager at our facility is really anal about the small stuff, and oblivious to things that are important.

Someone keeps disconnecting from the internet one of our computers located in a common area. We’ve asked for a switch so that neither ours nor their computer lose connectivity.
(We told him this would be a problem, but he ignored our advice). Our people wasted half a day diagnosing the problem, only to discover the disconnected cable laying beside the computer.

Meanwhile, over the weekend, he took down our wall thermometer, and replaced it with one of his own, placing our thermometer on the floor. Then he proceeded to check the temperature every 15-minutes…all weekend long.

When it was pointed out to him that warm air rises and cold air drops, he lost his cool and said, “well in 45-days you won’t have worry much about that!” and slammed the door on our studio operator.

Some others working in the general vicinity of this man have commented his behavior is likened to that of a neutered beast of burden. He told his staff that the next person who calls him a “Jack-Ass” would be escorted from the building.
Guess the shoe fits.

Bully!

Some people just don’t get it.
I work in what would be considered a very creative environment:
Lots of imaginative people collaborating in a real-time continuum to produce value for our consumers. We conduct a part of our business in space that is rented.

The manager of that space is a tyrant.
A bully.
He’s totally inflexible in his approach and treatment of me and my employees there.
He likes doors closed all the time.
People cooped up in their spaces, all tucked away from sight and sound.
There is no interaction that way.
No collaboration, either.

And instead of building creative ideas, what’s building is a pressure dome of resentment and discontent towards him.

He doesn’t see it.
He doesn’t understand.
He’s basically an idiot.

Career Ladder Capers

I am really proud of my son. He's found his niche in life, and is following his dreams. He put himself through college, and avoided the temptation to "go pro" before getting his degree. Now he's working two jobs to make ends meet, but in an area for which he has passion and talent.

Tonight a newspaper columnist wrote a story that mentions a career move for my son. It would be a nice promotion--except no one bothered to tell my son, and the columnist didn't fact check before running with the story. Sure, assuming the information is legit because it comes from an official source is understandable. Who would've dreamed the prick hadn't shared his grand vision with the minions he employs?

The other boss for whom my son works is probably feeling a little betrayed. He's reading about an employee in which he's invested time and training, and even given encouragement to, obviously with an eye to developing his talent for the benefit of that organization. Now, the paper says his boy is about to go to work for someone else full time.
I'd be pissed.

I am pissed.
I'm totally torqued at the lack of professionalism and common courtesy showed my son by the organization that presumes he's going to alter his career course to answer their whims.

I'd hate for this to have a negative consequence for my son...but I wished the OTHER job would wake up and see what they've got, cement their relationship with him, and he can tell these presumptious egotists to take their very public, very premature job offer, and shove it.

Ah, spleeen vented...

Badbyes, Part II

I found out at lunch today that one of my bosses has gone to South America for the next two weeks.
Didn't even say goodbye.
I'm not that crushed.
I'm not that surprised, either.
This boob has the social skills of a toad.

We spent some considerable time the day before, going over plans, employees, strategies, and progress in many areas. Not one mention of his pending long-term absence.

I think people like that basically cannot be trusted.
You never know what you're not being told.
That's a fundamental character flaw, in my book.

I sometimes forget to tell my wife things, like meetings after work, or an old friend I might have run into during the day. We all sometimes have gaps in our total recall for the day.

But leaving the country for two weeks--to me, that's worth a mention. Makes you wonder what else he's not telling us...

Goodbye vs Badbye

We’ve always been told that you only have one chance to make a good first impression.
I believe the same holds true for a lasting impression.

When you walk out of a room, through a door, down the street—it’s the last thing people hear, see, or feel about you that they will carry with them until they see you again…or don’t.

I work with a person who is terrible about saying goodbye.
No, not the teary-eyed, mushy, sentimental sense of goodbye.
The goodbye that lets you know they’ve left the building…that they’re not with you anymore for the rest of the day…that they’ll see you later, or tomorrow, or next week.

This co worker just leaves.
Disappears, vanishes; Poof!

I need to ask a question—too bad, gone.
Was it something I said?
Was it something I did?

Don’t know—hard to get feedback from folks when they’re not around.

It’s important that we leave a lasting touch-back with people.
It lets them know that the day is finished, the talk is concluded, that activities have been wrapped, boxed, and stored on the shelf of “things done”, right next to “things you need to do tomorrow” with that person.

Leaving without saying adios is a little like ending a phone conversation without saying goodbye, to me. There are some who finish what they’re saying—or they’re’ finished listening to you—and they just hang up.
Click.
Gone.

Same thing with folks who leave without taking their leave.
I think it’s just rude.

Mein Crampf

I work in an office that is operated by a foreigner owner. That’s different from a foreign-owned company. This guy’s an American, but just barely.

He hires people with limited people skills because he, himself possesses limited people skills. In fact, the local facility manager is the modern day equivalent of Adolph Hitler. When I am away, he berates and harasses my employees and makes unreasonable demands of them over the pettiest of issues.

What really gets my goat is his insensitivity to the workplace environment. We come to work early—before-daybreak-early—and the first thing this moron does when he hits the door is turn on all the lights in the place.

There’s nothing more abrasive to the human eye than fluorescent lighting in the morning.

His irritating legacy precedes him each day.
He recently installed a security system that includes camera monitors (we think he may be a closet voyeur) and key-pad entry locks on the doors.

After tapping in two security codes just to get in the building, the first thing that greets us in the morning is the annoying screech of the security system’s squeal until a third security code can be tapped into its keypad.

I think this guy has the locks on the wrong side of the door.
Why would anyone want to break into here?

One-Eighties

I work for a certified nincompoop, so brilliant he cannot tie his own shoes. He also has the social skills of a orangutan, and the memory of a gnat. He continuously injects his opinion into every facet of the operation, and changes his mind hourly. He's just hell to work for.

Today he called a meeting and forgot what it was for.
Since he'd gathered all of us anyway, he proceeded to de-construct a project, and then dictate an alternative solution.

In anticipation of the changes imposed, I issued instructions for the alterations, so that when he concluded his way was best, it would be short work to finish.

An hour later, a complete reversal.

He threw a fit, questioned the very change he'd insisted upon making, and asked where that had come from.

Fifteen minutes later, he changed his mind again.

I've learned not to react the first time he reacts.
There's some justification for putting off today what he may change his mind about twice tomorrow.

Speeenatomy (Original Thesis)

The spleen is an organ located in the abdomen, where it functions in the destruction of old red blood cells. The spleen also retains a reservoir of blood.

It is part of the immune system, and its absence can result in a disposition to some infections. Until recently, the purpose of the spleen was not known.

The Spleeen, on the other hand, is my intentional satirical spelling of this organ for purposes of getting the Blog title I really wanted.

My spleeen is an organic alter-ego for that place in the human spirit where frustrations, social slights, inequities, and unexpressed anger dwell. This speeen functions in the destruction of old hatreds and malice. It also retains a reservoir of bile that collects daily from swallowed pride, words bitten in two before they're uttered in irritation, and assorted elements of angst.

If you recognize yourself in these postings, it's purely coincidental.
Or, it could be on purpose.
Better to read it here, than from between the stars orbiting your head after you've been conked on the cranium!