Efficiency

Director: We've got important people here today for a big meeting and we need tables. Get some tables.

Manager: We don't have any available tables.

Director: Don't bother me with your petty concerns! I said get some tables!

Manager: The office supply company can have tables here this afternoon.

Director: This is a lunch meeting! Are we supposed to serve them nachos on the floor?

Manager: I can't magically produce tables.

Director: But we need tables.

Manager: But there are no available tables!

Director: Tables! Get them! Immediately!

 

 

Director: Why are all these computers on the floor? Whatever jackass is responsible for this should lose his job.

Making Time

Being the environmentally conscious eco-freak that I am, I was pleased to note that my workplace recycles. There are bins for cans and other bins for bottles. Paper could contain private information, so most of that gets sent away to be super-shredded, but there are bins for non-secret paper, too.

There are even bins for recycling cellphones, which I think is very progressive. With most Americans ditching old phones every time their service contract is up, and the ability of the batteries to (I don't remember exactly so I'll round up here) kill every living organism within 1,000 miles if they leak, making sure these old and used up communication devices don't end up in the wrong landfill is important. It seems some of my coworkers get a little carried away with that, though.

I got an official Corporate Communication email yesterday instructing me to not use the bins to dispose of company-issued cellphones and pagers. Instead, unwanted devices should be returned to the purchasing department.
I guess the ground rule is "Recycle, but only recycle stuff which actually belongs to you."

Who knew?

I've been having a bit of fun training the new hires. I'm too new myself to get in trouble for being candid (since "Tact Awareness Training" isn't offered until after six months of employment) so I can just tell them the way things are from my point of view.

This morning I explained that while there is certainly a procedurally correct way to accomplish things, and that certain methods are arguably more right than other ways, rolling with the punches is the only way to maintain one's sanity. Especially with liquor not being sold at all during 14.285% of the week.

Sure, we can call attention to idiocy. And we should. But none of that alters a deadline. The trick is to make the failure to meet the deadline the fault of another department, then use the time to fix the process while our activities are on hold.

I like using hardware requests sent directly to purchasing or, better yet, issuing a Vendor Security Alert which must be mitigated by the people who sell us stuff and then tested by some other team I only know by email.

Asinine? Yes. But we all have our ways of getting things done. Instead of saving time, I choose to simply create more of it. In a sense, I alter the rules of the physical universe and cause a finite resource to create more of itself. From the ether I draw on the cosmic power of process to cause the quarks, leptons and neutrinos which compose all of the known universe to wake up in the morning with a feeling of dread which is not quelled by their tiny little infinitely miniscule cups of coffee and itty bitty bowls of cornflakes. A feeling which follows them on their ridiculously short commutes to work and leaves them cowering in twitching piles of tiny angst on the floors of cubicles even smaller than the ones they give I.T. people and isn't even kind of broken until well after lunch.

In short, I have looked Time itself in the face and made it my ever-ticking cosmic bitch.

Also, the cafeteria has sweet potato pancakes on Tuesday mornings.

Trinket

Things Are Just Different. A Lot.

So last Saturday I went to the front desk of the hotel where I had reserved three weeks and internet to discover that I was expected to check out that day. I clarified that my three week reservation should, indeed, extend into week two. I paid for the week, plus internet, so when my internet was turned off that Saturday night I resolved to make certain that it didn't happen again.
This week I went down on Friday, extended my stay, and picked up the password for this week's internet.
On Saturday night -- Fail.
I called the front desk but they were closed.
I called the security office and they were new and didn't know how to re-activate the internet I had paid for. They told me to call back on Monday.
To recap: My internet, which I paid for and jumped through all the hoops to get, was disabled accidentally by the front office and I was told to wait for two days to get it back.
On Sunday morning I successfully got them to wake the on-site manager to hook me back up, but she was upset about it.
On Sunday afternoon I picked up a wireless card for my laptop which promised "DSL speeds" from anywhere in the area. Go, 3G network!
Except that the signal drops just like with my cellphone, lost in the rolling, tree-infested hills of South Carolina.
Again -- Fail.

I did pick up an interesting bit of local trivia on Saturday.
While the builder agent was driving me back to the office after showing me a house with an inadequate laundry room, we crossed Lake Carolina between the boat docks and the mid-lake fountain.
Making conversation, I asked if the lake was man-made.
"Yes," the agent replied,"I just found out myself they all are."
"All the lakes in the subdivision? I thought there was just the one?"
"No. All the lakes in South Carolina. Every one of them is man-made. They were dispensing permits for them like Pez through the early nineties."
My mind traveled back to the days of the early settlers who must have had to carry water from Florida and North Carolina by hand, making their way across the barren wasteland of the scorching South Carolina desert. I marveled at their ingenuity in carrying those barrels and flasks across the dunes and emptying them in the Georgia mountains before rushing downhill to catch the flow in an elaborate state-wide system of dams. I thank them for giving artificial (if pretty) refuge to the delicate mosquito, bedrock of the ecological food chain (and nuisance all up and down that same chain).
How ridiculous is that idea?
Then I checked Wikipedia. Holy crap it's true! Even Lake Strom Thurmand!

This afternoon we met two more new hires and escorted them to lunch. I spoke mostly with the one from out of town. He had questions for me, I assume, because my two weeks here have granted me "grizzled veteran" status.

Him: So what do I need to know about the first month here?

Me: Let's see . . . There is a liquor store on Two Notch Road that sells adorable little bottles of booze.

Him: Okay, but what are the expectations set for the person in my position.

Me: You can't buy liquor at all on Sunday.

Him: Okay. Is that it?

Me: I think you can join a club or something and buy on Sunday if you run out of the tiny bottles of booze.

Him: Thanks, but I was specifically talking about the job here.

Me: Me too. Welcome to South Carolina.

Discoveries

I had to get a picture of Lizard's Thicket, featuring the lovely Carolina Anole mascot. I've not been inside the place, but not only is this an actual place to eat here, it is a chain of places to eat here. Because one Lizard's Thicket did not meet the demand.

I left the hotel for Free Comic Book Day, and it was pretty awesome. The local comic shop I visited was well stocked and filled with geeks. The message board advertised the local "Jedi Order of South Carolina" for like-minded people interested in learning Jedi skills. I pray my family gets here before my free time hits critical mass.

This map, lit from below, covers are huge table in the welcome center of the subdivision where I've been hunting houses. I felt compelled to scatter bits of plastic across it and invade neighboring communities, annexing Australia and pushing north to secure Kamchatka, as is my traditional strategy in playing Risk. In fact, only my lack of available bits of plastic prevented me from doing just that.

The house hunt is going well on some levels. On other levels, my ideas of what we need keep butting up against the reality of thoughtful questions from Shana like, "Do we really need a turret?" and "What if we get a plain front without arrow slits and mounted cauldrons for burning pitch?" and "Can you find a house with a master bedroom that isn't 35 feet long?"

I found a liquor store, too.

In Columbia, apparently liquor is sold in these little bottles (shown next to a quarter for reference). They were pretty cheap and will fit into a laptop bag or desk drawer much more easily than the bulky flask I've been lugging around for years. They are adorable! When Gwynyth gets here she will be so happy to never have to look at another juice box!

I'm going to see which of these goes best in Coke Zero.

Finally, long after Gwynyth told me that her teacher contradicted me and told her that the Earth's geological layers did not include "Nougat" between Mantle and Core, it looks like I may have been right after all. Up yours, Texas "Education" System!

Holy Enchiladas, Iron Man! Justin Timberlake?

Look at the sign that was posted on the cash register at Taco Bell! It should be noted that the Taco Bell which includes God in its mission statement has (in my expert imported opinion) the most authentic Mexican food in town.

Also, I'm a little queasy.

As a public service, it is my duty to remind everyone that the first Saturday in May is Free Comic Book Day. Please enjoy it. Embrace it. Live it.

Further, I plan to visit the local movie house to see for myself what they have done with Iron Man -- A beloved character who has been a part of my life for about as long as I can remember . . . My memory goes back to junior year in college, for the record.

I met my company's VP of Information Systems Compliance this week. I'd been warned. I'd heard that staying on her "good side" was essential to one's career longevity and that she had a tendency to "rip the throats out" of techs who had offered offense, real or imagined. Essentially, I was told to expect a rabid bear in Donna Karan (which in my forthcoming book "Surviving IT: A Pretty Person's Guide to Life Away from the Sun" is one of the 10 featured management archetypes).

Anyway, she visited the re-purposed training room (which actually shows up on the floor plan labeled "Citrix Batcave") where I've been dwelling all week and no one flinched.

She bounced in, raised a hand for attention, and announced, "Everyone! I have two important announcements!

"First, Justin Timberlake was in downtown Columbia today to visit Jessica Biel.

"Second, the project which you've been working on for months that got canceled on Tuesday? I've un-canceled it so pick up where you left off."

She closed the announcement phase of her visit with, "Ooo! Coffee!" and poured herself a mug and sat down.

Ignoring the second announcement entirely, the conversation from that point on was all about Justin Timberlake.

As a joke, one of the consultants said that my cubicle is wallpapered with posters of the man responsible for bringing "sexy back".

"True story," I acknowledged, "I tell people they are my daughter's but that is a total lie." I don't even have a cubicle.

When I got back from getting a Coke Zero (There is no Diet Coke Plus here, so as a side note my bones are beginning to curl back in on themselves) Justin-talk was still in effect.

I was asked if I believed that Justin Timberlake is this generation's Elvis. I replied that he is not. Elvis is this generation's Elvis. That title is good for life and until someone comes up with some solid evidence to the contrary, Elvis is still very much alive thank you very much.

Even this did not kill the topic. Apparently the VP is a big fan of Mr. Timberlake. At the tech table, the opinion of his musical abilities was split directly along gender lines, which was no surprise to anyone there.

It was a surprise when I chose to take the opposite opinion in order to align myself with the Executive in the room with the remark, "I'm not gay, but I would totally make out with Justin Timberlake."

Delivered with a completely straight face, this line brought me into the "inner circle". Coffee is better in the "inner circle", my friends. Just a hint of vanilla away from awesome, as a matter of fact.

Later in the day I stepped into the hallway in front of the refrigerator and startled the VP, who was getting more half and half for the coffee.

I nearly panicked when she said,"Hey! Don't sneak up on people! What are you, some kind of 'Tech Ninja'?"

While I don't think this blog is on the "must read" list in the Executive Wing, I have no doubt now it turned up in the background check.

I spent all day Friday reviewing the latest security scans against our latest test deployment. I'm not sure a server that would pass all the parts of a full Department of Defense audit on all counts could actually have ever been removed from the box and plugged in, but I think we did okay.

Next week I have over twenty hours of meetings scheduled. And I don't mind.

Record the date: I've deactivated my Monster resume for the first time in ten years.

Good Influence