Pr3++yG33kyTh1ng

Wow. Three posts in two days. I'm SO not getting any real work done.
In order to maintain my "Man-pretty" status I dragged myself to a hair appointment on my way home yesterday. I hate hair cuts. I always have.
My long hair in college was probably more about some long-repressed childhood trauma than any dedicated attempt at revolution.
Anyway, I'm planning to interview for newer and cooler jobs soon and when my hair gets longish I start to look like Carson Kressley.

Not that there is anything wrong with that.

I get to work obscenely early and try to have enough coffee to be tolerable before anyone can stop by and ask me for anything. I also like to deter these little visits by leaving a clearly labeled "Tip Jar" in my cubicle.
"Need something done?" Jingle-Jingle-Jingle "Show the jar some love and we'll talk."
This did not prevent an early visit from someone in sales this morning.
I tend to leave my iPod earbuds in all the time while I work. People can never tell that most of the time the iPod is off and that I can hear them just fine. I try to make a game of looking at my screen and appearing busy while they wave and hop and pantomime to get my attention. The record is 45 seconds. Someday, that record will fall. Today is not that day.
He started, "Remember that time you did a network analysis and security evaluation for (company name deleted to comply with non-disclosure agreement)?"
I responded with a blank look.
"You know, I asked you to do it for (company name deleted to comply with non-disclosure agreement) and you said you didn't know how and Mike showed you and it generated that report?"
I could form words:"I have no idea what you are talking about."
Maybe he thought I was kidding. "No seriously, go to the folder and look at the report."
I answered, "I don't doubt the report exists. I just have no memory of having created it. Or of ever getting help from Mike."
At this point he leaned over my keyboard to stare at my screen, probably to verify that I was going to the folder to look at the report. I did not bother to minimize my constantly updating Fort Lauderdale Beach webcam.
A quick mouseover indicated that the report in question was created and last modified three months before I came to work here. Perhaps my memory isn't so bad.
He smiled uncomfortably, "Then who could have made this report?"
"The last guy who had this desk, I guess."
Moving on, "Well, can you do one like it for (company name deleted to comply with non-disclosure agreement)? I already told them we could."

Let's gloss over the fact that a deal was made for technical services with no research as to whether or not someone on staff was capable of providing those services.
We can also ignore the fact that one can apparently sell things like "that report" and "security evaluation", nebulous undefined terms unsupported by facts but still expensive to someone.
I'll even (reluctantly) skip over the sad fact that my Jingle-Jingle-Jingle is exactly the same pitch and volume as it was before this conversation started.
What I can't seem to get past this morning is that people in my position seem to fly through this desk so fast that we become a blur to the sales staff. After a while, we all blend into one technically competant person steadily increasing in bitterness. Also, I probably curse more.

"No problem. I can generate a report like that."

I began to think of all the people who have an effect, however brief, on my life. Do I take the time to learn about their interests, their families, their passions? What makes THAT guy different from that other guy? Why do certain co workers pour coffee over the sink as opposed to over the trashcan? Why is creamer added before sugar everyday exactly the same way?
Do I even know all of their NAMES? I've been here for months. There is no excuse for still using their ID badges as cheat sheets.
And that was the moment I made the resolution. I WILL NOT GLOSS OVER PEOPLE.
The sales guy that interrupted my morning is Douglas Brown. To commit his name to memory in a meaningful fashion I typed his username in a field for a secured resource on our internal intranet.
I left the password space blank and hit ENTER ENTER ENTER ENTER - cementing his name in my mind . . . . and hopelessly locking his account.
Maybe he can find the guy that used to administer accounts to get it fixed.