Coming back to work after a weeks’ vacation was a harrowing experience. Not only did I have to readjust to an actual sleep-schedule (that only took 2 days to get out of), but I had a fuckton of work to catch up on. Walking into my cube on Monday was akin to opening your closet to find someone else’s S&M gear hanging there. It looked like my office, but it certainly wasn’t the way I left it.
My desk was barely visible for all the piles of books, and there were notes everywhere. Outside my cube were book-trucks with even more piles of books. And I knew it would be at least until Wednesday before I got anywhere with any of it.
Except that when, come Wednesday morning, I set about doing a fairly routine task, I ended up discovering a fairly major problem with the library software system. Which led to the discovery of another fairly major problem with the library software system. Which led to the discovery of yet another fairly major problem with the library software system. So that by noon my brain was fried and I’d gotten nowhere at all with any of the piles.
Friday morning we had a library-wide staff meeting where we were to begin a discussion of an upcoming reorganization. I’ve been through reorganizations before and know enough to know that nothing is really going to change. So I wasn’t too worried.
That is, I wasn’t too worried…until I walked into the conference room. All over the walls were sheets of paper each with topical headers and columns labelled Glad, Mad, Sad, and Fears.
All I could think was: What the shit?!? Am I supposed to sit in here with these people and talk about my feelings?
Yep. That’s what I was supposed to do.
But I didn’t. I didn’t write on thing on a single Post-It note. I’ll talk about reorganization all you want. I’ll toss out all the ideas I can think of and I’ll help figure out ways to do them. I’ll share my work with others and learn other people’s work. I’ll play along and majority of the time I’ll do it nicely.
I am not, however, going to share my feelings. Fuck that.
And then after the touchy-feeling staff-meeting I returned to my cube to find that one of the software problems I’d discovered on Wednesday had yielded a new manifestation.
Of course, no one waited for me to finish my friggin’ lunch before bring this up, but instead insisted on reducing my half-hour to about ten minutes.
Just as I got off work yesterday, it began to snow. And it continued to snow. And snow some more. By the time Ashley and I got home, it was obvious that this would be my favorite kind of winter night: the kind free of all obligation because no one’s going anywhere anyway. We sofa-potatoed it up with some How I Met Your Mother for most of the evening.
Indeed it was.