Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.
Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.
Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)
Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
I'm ten months into my new job. That fact sneaked up on me.
Six months into my new job, just when I was getting the hang of my job and getting into the groove of my account, I was transferred to not one, but two, other accounts. The new accounts are so different from the prior account that I have been, essentially, starting from day one again.
I'm not thrilled with the transfer. Of course I'm happy to have a job. Of course. But. I enjoyed the work on my first account, and there were some great people there. The new accounts kinda suck.
It's an ironic career twist that happens when you are successful with a project/account/client/task: You do such a great job that you are moved to a more difficult project/account/client/task, even though you were perfectly happy doing whatever it was you were doing previously. Everyone, from HR to your mother will say, "It's good for your career." Or, "It will look great on your resume."
And you know that's true.
And you're happy that your manager and higher ups recognize your hard work and success, and it's a nice pat on the back that they feel you can take on other challenges.
But.
All parties involved were perfectly happy with the original set up. My old account wants me back, which is flattering, but it's not as simple as just going back to the account. It would require a lot of musical chairs. There are new people working on that account. It would create a lot of upheaval on my new accounts. So for now, anyway, everyone is staying put.
I'm happy to have a job. It's my mantra from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep. I am grateful. I beat tremendous odds, overcame every hurdle to hiring, and got out from under the stats of the long term unemployed. I am a rare success story in the plight of the long term unemployed and the recession.
And I am grateful.
But.
The reason I was moved to the new accounts is because the two people handling them both quit for new jobs outside our company. I was told, emphatically, that there would be no pay increase, this is not a promotion, it's a lateral transfer. And I figured, you know, I'd only been there six months, I really couldn't expect a pay increase, and my job title didn't change, so the money thing really wasn't an issue. I was just happy to have a job.
And then I stumbled across something that shook me out of my "just happy to have a job" reverie.
I moved into the desk occupied by my predecessor. S/he left everything behind, everything. So little by little I've been going through the files left behind, mainly when something comes up and I need to learn from previous projects. While searching through a drawer of manilla folders full of TPS report type paperwork, I found my predecessor's HR year end recap forms from last year. Our company does nifty little charts that track our career progression. So. My predecessor's salary history was charted out on a huge, top left corner graph. I saw the info before I fully realized what I stumbled across. And then it dawned on me...and the damage is done. My predecessor was not making just a little more money than I am. S/he was making $22K more than I am.
I know, I know, s/he'd been with our company a couple years, so naturally their salary was higher. True.
But.
22K higher? And lest you think this person was better qualified...there's a large body of evidence to the contrary. I'll sum up that angle thus: This person started their new job a few months ago. They have emailed or called me at least once, often twice a week, every week, asking for help/advice on their new job at the new company. I like this person, I'm happy they found such a great new job, and I'm always happy to help, always. And I do not resent their salary, if they negotiated that kind of money from our employer, fantastic.
But.
I was emphatically told that I am near the top of the pay range, and this was a lateral move anyway, and so there's no more money in the kitty for me. Well. Since there were two people working on this account for six months of the year, their salaries are allocated for the entire year. And one of them was allocated 22K more than my salary.
I'm happy to have a job, I truly am. Any steady paycheck is a good paycheck.
But.
Obviously I'm feeling used.
I'm still shell-shocked from my years of an unsteady paycheck and coming thisclose to foreclosure and homelessness. So I'm not as incensed as I would have been five years ago. Every time money is direct deposited in my bank account I drop to my knees and thank the Universe. Every time I pay my mortgage and have money left to buy groceries I am filled with awe and elation.
But.
I am exceptionally well qualified. I did such a great job with my first account that they wanted me on two higher profile, higher revenue accounts. So much so that I am handling the workload formerly managed by two people.
I'm trying to not let this nag at me. I'm trying to unsee what I saw. Trying to forget about it.
Yeah right.
The alternative to forgetting about it is talking to my manager about it.
I'm not a fan of subterfuge, I much prefer the direct approach. However, when running the "talking to my manager about this" scenarios in my head I come off as confrontational. No matter how I spin the conversation. And the scenarios in which the the appearance of my predecessor's annual HR statement appear look fishy. I can see the conversation I could have about this, but the aftermath, the awkwardness the next day, the next week...a few months from now at the holiday party...at my review...is not something I want on my managers' minds.