Details

So, the promotion.

Without divulging too many details, I'll tell you the basic story. Our department has had a manager position vacant for several months. That manager was my boss, whom I still miss a lot.

I had not even considered posting for that position, for several reasons. I love my current job - really - and I didn't really want to change. Also, having only been in my job for 9 months, I didn't think I was fully qualified for the position. Add a few other reasons, and you've pretty much got my mindset.

But our department's director, as well as her bosses, one of my most trusted colleagues (I call her my work BFF), and another manager in our department had different ideas, apparently. Ideas they discussed yesterday, while I was off, chilling on the couch. I'm watching episodes of "What Not To Wear," and they're having what shall heretofore be called "the Kaleigh meeting."

And this morning, when I was incredibly busy (doing my current, about to be former, job), the director wanted me to come into a meeting STAT. And I couldn't. For an hour. Because I was so busy (and even if I'd know what was coming, I still would have put her off...there were only two of us there, and thirsty people wanted coffee!). Maybe I should have figured out that her constant coming back to my area to see if I was ready yet, all with a big grin on her face, meant something important.

I finally was able to walk away, and she chased me down, cornered me, and offered me the position.

In a moment of great poise, calm, and professionalism, I squealed like a nine-year-old girl. And maybe I jumped up and down in my chair a little.

Details are still being worked out on the HR side, but I'm already assuming some new duties, most of which include sitting in lots of meetings.

The best part? After nine months of working in a position with a corporate-decreed dress code, I'm totally going to have to go clothes shopping!

Promoted!

More later, but I just got a big promotion at work! And I wasn't expecting it! At all! Totally took me by surprise, in fact! Holy cow! Exclamation point!

The experiment, continued

Or, more truthfully, discontinued.

Due to circumstances well beyond my control, we gave up on the non-driving experiment. Maybe I'm a wimp, but I couldn't figure out how to help my boss move out of his apartment without cranking up the minivan. And I couldn't figure out how to purchase food and liquor for his going-away party without driving.

So yes, we drove during not-driving-week. About 4 miles in all. Which still isn't bad, but it means the experiment failed this time.

But I don't think this failure proves terribly much. How often, in a person's lifetime, does one's manager develop serious visa problems and have to leave the country with 20 days' notice? I'm thinking it's a once in a lifetime thing. (And I'm not going to say much about it except that I hate it and I've cried more about this situation than I've cried over any work situation in the last nine years. He's fantastic and I adore his wife and I'm going to miss them horribly and I have some anxiety about what's going to happen next at work.)


New topic.

The kids are back from their week in northwest Arkansas, and I must say, they're a lot of fun. I can't honestly say that I miss them all that much when they're gone (mainly because we keep ourselves busy and don't have much opportunity to miss them), but I love it when they're home. The girl and I spent much of yesterday afternoon and evening cuddling on the couch, after she emerged from email land and got sucked into the movie I was halfway watching (I was halfway sleeping). We were both tired, and I think she was needing some Mom time.

A few years ago, I wouldn't have let her watch "First Knight," because it deals with the Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot story, which is a bit, well, adult with the whole forbidden love thing. But I also clearly remember being about her age and wishing with all my heart that my parents would let me see "Excalibur" when it came out in the theater. (They considered my request seriously, even went to see the movie, and then denied my appeals. I saw it years later and "Meh", but I saw their point.) But "First Knight" is PG-13, and the love story part was quite tame, and the battle gore didn't bother her in the Narnia movies, so I decided it wasn't inappropriate.

What was funny was how she fell into watching the movie. She had come into the living room to tell me that the phone was for me, but then she sat down just because she wasn't doing anything else. At first she just glanced at the screen, but then I caught her getting interested. And then she was so interested that she asked me to pause the movie when she went to the kitchen for a snack. We talked about what was going on (she's never seen "Camelot" but has seen "The Sword and the Stone" so she was a little familiar with the story) and we both predicted when things were about to go sour.

And then it was over, but we found the second half of "Talladega Nights," which the kids and I think is hilarious but Craig thinks is incredibly stupid. By this time, Alex had joined us and watched it with us (although he was heartily disappointed that the dinner table scene, particularly the "spider monkey" line, had already taken place).

Watching my children watch movies gives me a great view inside their minds. I can tell a lot by what makes them laugh in comedies or what gets their attention in adventure movies. Alex doesn't enjoy battle scenes (and, as a result, didn't much love "Prince Caspian") but loves goofy comedy (and has become a fan of Nick at Night sitcom reruns). The girl is starting to "get" adult humor, and watching her laugh at off-color jokes makes the jokes much funnier to me. The laugh is different. It's like she knows that she "shouldn't" be laughing, but she can't help it.

They're home for a week, then it's off to Michigan for three weeks. I know Craig and I will enjoy the change of pace that occurs when we're child-free, but I also know we'll be happy to have them return. The laughter most of all.

The Experiment, Day One

The kids are out of town again, for their second week (of six) this summer. They've had an alternating-weeks schedule up to this point: two weeks out of school, one week with my parents, one week home, now one week with Craig's family, to be followed by another week at home, then just about four weeks with my parents.

We've been enjoying this (or a similar) arrangement for the past few summers. Our childless state allows us to do things we don't usually do, like eating dinner at 10 p.m. or playing strip poker.

This year, however, we've decided to try something different. Sure, we could have chosen to get into the new show "Swingtown", but that's not really our style. Instead, we're remaining STD-free and going green! That's right; we're not driving all week. The car will remain in the driveway and we'll explore other forms of transportation to meet our needs this week.

We do have a few advantages. I live two blocks from my job, roughly a seven-minute commute on foot. And Craig is working there (temporarily) these days, too. So there's no driving to work anyway. We also live almost in downtown Memphis, and our gym is an easy bike ride away. Along that bike ride, we pass a small grocery store and a drug store, so we could pick up any necessities there.

Today was day one, and we did use our bikes to run an urgent errand. (There was no wine in the house!) Eight-tenths of a mile each way took no time at all - not even far enough to work up a sweat, even in Memphis's summer heat.

So today, success. Tomorrow? We'll see. There's a plan to visit the gym and then pick up food for dinner. I think we can do it.

Work update

Last time I blogged about work, we were a few days away from my new store's grand opening. Now that's almost a month behind us, so I can share what's happened.

1. Sales are up, way up. Like 100% or more higher. Like our revenue for June (yes, we're only halfway through the month) is already 1.5 times higher than our revenue for last June (which was a very low sales month). We're already ahead of May, which was the best month to date since the old store opened (because the new store was open for one week in May). Job security.

2. Service and accuracy are good. Very good, actually. We get shopped by a secret shopper three times a quarter, and the report from our first shop at the new store just came in. On the objective items (wait time, drink temperature, etc.) we scored 100% (!!!!) and on service we scored the equivalent of a B+. Which is really exactly what I would have wanted, because it gives the staff something to build on.

3. By the way...dream job? Secret shopper for Starbucks.

4. The staff seems to be gelling nicely. Some issues here and there, but I think that's more about almost all of the staff being under 20 years old. Nothing too serious, and nothing nearly as serious as what I was dealing with before.

5. I haven't worked a 12-13 hour day in three weeks. 'Nuff said, right?

So yeah, it's pretty good. I'm happy.

Day Zero

My new employees and I just spent two weeks training in preparation for my new store's opening. It was a good process, with lots of team-building opportunities built into the process. Since all but one of my new staff members are under 20, and all are female, it was not a difficult process to see these people draw together.

Tuesday is day one. While I'm sure it will be a very, very busy day, we're probably lucky that it's a holiday week, because that will keep us from being as busy as we would have been if we'd opened in, say, mid-November.

Each manager in my department is included in a weekend and holiday rotation: our department works every day. Since my store opens Tuesday, I had volunteered to work Memorial Day. Realistically, I'd probably go in anyway, if only to open up the store so the new employees could have a little more practice time (which all of them want), and to do some prep work so Tuesday morning would go more smoothly. Of course, I'll probably regret that decision come 4:00 Monday morning, when the alarm sounds and I have to get to work before 5:00.

It's been a hard two months. I've worked more twelve-plus hour days in the past month than I had, combined, in my life. Arriving at work around 6:30 to get the old store ready to open, working in the store until training started, attending training, checking on the old store, back to training, catching up on the "desk" part of my job (which has been sorely neglected), then checking on the old store before I go home (and usually sticking around to clean it better than it was left by the person who's been helping out), getting home between 5:30-7:00. It's tiring.

My saving grace has been Craig. Not only has he worked (as a temp) in my old store for two weeks (and done as much cleaning as he could, given that he still had to pick up the kids from school at the same time the store closed), he's also planned and cooked every meal served in our house for at least the past two weeks, kept the laundry in check, and been very patient with my obsessive behavior and conversation. He's letting me eat, sleep, and breathe coffee and staffing and retail and shift planning, and even tolerated my going out for drinks with colleagues more than once this week (if I can't see them in the office, I at least get some face time on hotel rooftops and discos).

Here's the thing. It's going very well. Eyes are on me right now, professionally. I took on a failing venture and turned it around. And now I have the opportunity to not just "not fail" but to succeed, quite visibly. This store will be the social center of the hospital. Its success will be credited to me. Its failure will be on my shoulders. I don't have any doubt that the next few months will make or break my career, or at least this portion of it. And given the past few months' successes (33% increase in sales from March to April, and May looks to be at least as good, if not better), I feel like I'm up to the challenge. I've created some good partnerships in other departments (this is me waving to the directors of security and design and construction), and I think that's going to be crucial to my continued success.

I can't help but think back a few years, when my professional life, if you could even call it that, was absolutely the least of my priorities. I worked because I had to, for money and insurance, and I watched the clock all day. All I wanted was to collect my paycheck and go home.

Even though this month has been hard, it's been great. I'm having a fantastic time. I wake up excited about the upcoming day. I go to bed bone-tired. But it's stimulating and challenging and feels like exactly what I was born to do.

Not now!

This week is the calm before the storm. If by "calm" you mean hiring two part-time employees, setting up new cash registers, making a presentation to the hospital's administrators, training a temp to mind the "old" store while the staff of the "new" store is in training, making sure all the training materials have arrived, reserving A/V equipment for training, staying in contact with our corporate district manager, and coordinating with outside vendors to reprogram the cash register POS system.

The storm? Two weeks of training, setting up the new store, followed by the first week in the new store. Sounds easier, actually, than the so-called calm. But it won't be.

When I attended training in January, it was much more exhausting than I expected. At the end of every day, I was tired. Tired from dealing with a roomful of people I'd never met before. Tired from the barrage of new information. Tired from making and tasting drinks all day.

This training will be even more tiring, since I'm the manager and it's my store. I've been working with two of my five employees for the past few weeks, but that leaves three who are essentially strangers. And college-age. (I think that's a good thing, but I may live to regret hiring four people under 21. I'll let you know.) And the "old" store will still remain open during the training, and I'm still ultimately responsible for it.

Pesky human cloning. They need to hurry up with that one.

Oh, and did I mention that I left work early with a killer headache, complete with some delightful nausea? I'm hoping that it's stress and not the flu. Because I really don't have the time to be sick.

But my new store looks fantastic and I can't wait until May 27.

Grace

I like to tell people that I have the best job at the hospital. Where other folks spend their working days placing IVs in children, giving parents bad news, rushing grant applications, spending endless hours in labs doing important research, or making difficult decisions about the future of our institution, I get to hang out in the most fun part of the hospital, making coffee for everyone who needs a cup.

Part of the fun is getting to know a cross-section of our hospital...mostly staff, but also visitors and families. I've gotten to know exactly how seven-year-old "Keith" likes his hot chocolate, how a prominent scientist likes his latte, and which coffee blends are favored by post doc researchers.

And then there are the moments that really knock my socks off. There's a parent who comes by our store nearly every day. "Janey" orders the same coffee every time: four cappuccinos, along with four pastries. (Usually she gives me free reign to select the pastries.) This order costs a bit more than $20. Four or five days a week. Yes, that's about $100 per week. Did I mention who the coffee and snacks are for? No? They're for the nurses who are taking care of her daughter.

This woman, about my age, never shows the strain of being in the hospital with a sick child. She is very, very beautiful and her smile lights up the room. She's cheerful and funny, and obviously generous.

And if she were none of those things, given the difficulty of her current situation....1000 miles away from home, with her husband and other daughter just as far away...I wouldn't blame her a bit. If she were cranky or distracted or tearful, I wouldn't be at all surprised.

But she's meeting this challenge with grace and graciousness and gratitude, and I look forward to her daily visit. That visit reminds me that I work in an amazing place, full of amazing people, and that we have so many opportunties, every day, to do good, to make new friends, to make a difference in someone's life.

I'm trying to rise to the challenge. If Janey can be that great with so many obstacles, I can be that great too. My life is pretty easy: my kids are healthy and smart, my husband is great, I have a good job. My list of complaints and worries is short. But the opportunities I have to do better - to be kinder, more generous, more helpful, more inspiring - are ample.

Amazing what a person can learn while making coffee.

Absentee = nothing to write

I'm peeking out from my hole of work and church responsibilities to tell you, all eight of my readers, that I'm still alive.

The recent major changes at work have led to me working ten-hour days for the past three weeks. It sounds much worse than it is, to be honest. I've come to the conclusion that I've got the best job at the entire hospital, and my new staff is fantastic.

The best part about that statement? Is that I hand-picked each of them. So their success is evidence that I'm cut out for this management position (which I am, but confirmation is always nice).

In futher job secuity news, our daily and weekly sales are climbing every week, and this week looks to be much bigger than the past two, which were the two best weeks of 2008. Given that sales are generally higher in cold weather, this is pretty great.

But yes, I also have a family. A really fantastic family, actually. And they continue to be fantastic. The school year is winding down, which means concerts, programs, and the dreaded TCAP tests. My kids were blessed with the "performs well on standardized tests" genes, so this is not as stressful for us as for other families.

I owe the internet a post about my wonderful son and his wonderful birthday party. And I'll write it soon, but not yet. I was at work before 7 and left after 5:30. Am tired.

Stress code blue

My blog is actually a good barometer of my life. The frequency of posts is conversely related to the level of activity in my life.

Take this week, for example. I worked the weekend (which means a 4:00 a.m. wake up), my dad arrived (with my kids) at the house on Saturday afternoon, I've got the church pledge drive kick-off party on Saturday, and I'm interviewing new staff for my new store. There are some other, non-bloggable, bits of work upheaval that are generating a lot of stress.

And then last night, a little more drama entered my life in the form of a very unexpected phone call from a friend who let me know that he has entered a residential treatment program for mental health issues. That's his story, not mine, but it definitely impacted my night.

Later that evening, Craig and I were watching "Top Chef" which made me hungry, so I grabbed a box of crack Cheez-its and was happily munching away when I felt, and heard, the unmistakable sound of stress incarnate.

My jaw.

The TMJ, it has returned.

I did what I could to minimize it, and I'm hoping it works. I took a muscle relaxer and wore my delightful appliance to bed.

When I awoke, it didn't hurt, not exactly, but it definitely felt wrong. The last time this happened, I couldn't eat for two weeks. And while the thought of the easy weight loss that would bring is tempting, it's really the last thing I need right now. Must keep my energy up to get through the next few weeks.

More Ovaltine please?

Facing facts

Turns out that I have unreasonably low expectations for my son, at least when it comes to his packing skills. He packed a perfectly sane assortment of clothing for the trip, and all I did was merge the contents of two half-empty suitcases into one suitcase. I didn't add or subtract or substitute any of the contents. Yay, son!

Turns out my daughter is probably ready to move out and have kids of her own. Well, not quite, but close. See, on our long road trip to Michigan, we hit a bit of turbulence in the form of my son and a stomach virus. As I later told my mother, if the kids had been five years younger and this had happened, I would've been toast! Instead, after vomit #2 (but #1 in the car), I pulled across three lanes of traffic in Nashville's suburbs, pulled into a Walgreen's parking lot, fished out some cash from my wallet, and sent my daughter inside to buy paper towels and baby wipes. And she did it! No argument, no nervousness about going alone inside a store in a strange city. Just grace and aplomb. Even better, she returned, gave me the change, and informed me that she'd made the executive decision to buy the small package of wipes because she figured I didn't want a case of 500. She was, perhaps, a bit less willing to assist me in cleaning up the mess, but she did score points for being very sweet and solicitous of her miserable brother.

Turns out my son is nearly 5' tall and my daughter is already 5'1 1/2". That makes her only two inches shorter than me. She's TEN!

Turns out that when Craig and I have the house to ourselves, we pretty much behave the same way we do when the kids are around.

Turns out getting up at 4 a.m. to work on a Saturday (and it'll happen again on Sunday) is just as hard as one would expect.

Turns out that I'm really, really glad my kids (and my dad) are getting home today. Even though it's only been since Wednesday morning since I saw them, I miss them.

Turns out I like my new haircut (and will post a picture soon).

Inconveniences

Things I need to do this week:

• Catch up on sleep because the time change is still making me insane.
• Write a letter to everyone in my church's congregation that will inspire them to make generous, timely pledges.
• Plan the kickoff party for our annual pledge drive.
• Pack for the trip to Michigan I'm taking with the kids on Saturday.
• Pick up the rental car for that trip.
• Design printed material for the pledge drive.
• Evaluate my employees' progress on their improvement plans.
• Create and submit my inventory order for next week (since I'll be on vacation when it's due).
• Generate weekly sales reports (see above).

Things I've done this week:

• Not gotten enough sleep.
• Disciplined an employee.
• Completed espresso training (wow! much caffeine makes me really jumpy!)
• Attended church board meeting.
• Finished watching the first season of C.S.I.
• Monthly financial reports at work.
• Watched snow melt.
• Looked at the progress of my new store's construction and had a panic attack.
• Helped my son create a costume for his class's chess party (he chose to be a pawn).
• Coded and balanced my department's monthly invoice (which is so much more work than that sentence can express).
• Gave a big box of fabric to someone who will actually use it.

Still here

Sorry for the absence. It's been a busy few days. So you get bullet points. Lucky you!

• Saturday was spent shopping for the Oscar party we hosted Sunday. We planned our errands well, finishing (well, mostly) in time to eat some Mexican food then get home and watch the most frustrating basketball game ever.
  
• Sunday was spent preparing for, then hosting, said Oscar party. It was a good party, with nine guests and food, as usual, themed to go with the best picture nominees. Can I just say that if there hadn't been a scene involving a grocery sack of baguettes in Michael Clayton, that movie would have been impossible to pair with food? Because George Clooney never eats or drinks in the whole movie. Juno was much easier, for obvious reasons.
  
• I'm working on my first performance review as a supervisor at the Corporation. I'm not really enjoying it.
  
• We just got home from a very, very long school program. It was for Black History Month, but it was called the "Brotherhood" program. I think I need to bring to someone's attention that by choosing to not use the word "Black" they instead used a word that is not a bit inclusive, but, in fact, leaves out 51% of the population. Hint: "Unity" is a lovely word.
  
• I have a bad feeling that American Idol could turn me into an alcoholic. It's a bad, bad season this year.

Now that it's all written down, it doesn't seem like much. But it's felt like more. I'm delighted to have no plans for the next three evenings, because it's going to be an amazingly packed weekend. I just hope March doesn't speed by quite as quickly as February did, because I'm a little stunned that we're in the last few days of the month.

400

When I was logging on to Blogger, I was planning to write an update-y post, mostly about work, but then I saw that this was going to be my 400th post, so I thought it should be more, well, special.

But for special? I got nothin'. I've been doing this get up, go to work, come home, be tired, go to bed thing this week, and there's just not much left. I did successfully complete my end of my son's homework (quizzing him on his multiplication tables) but I will also admit that I tried to outsource it to multiplication.com (that, my friends, was a nightmare...timed tests make him very, very stressed). But beyond that, there's little to say.

So here's the update-y part of the post: I had my first "performance improvement" type conversation as a manager. Actually, my first AND second. Within an hour of each other. (Yes, that was planned.) It wasn't as hard as I thought it would have been (seriously, I was dreading this). But then again, I've fired volunteers before (THAT, my friends, is hard). I think things will work out, mostly, and I'm quite optimistic about the future in my department. We have some very, very good leadership, and a few potential rising stars in our field. It's going to be fun to watch things unfold through the summer.


This 400th post thing is making me feel pressured to write something good. And the bizarre spike in traffic my site has experienced for the past few days isn't helping the pressure to write well. I like to think that most of the time my writing is pretty good (my boss thinks so, anyway), but lately it's been less-than-creative. Or insightful. Perhaps it's more a function of being tired and maybe getting sick and then being preoccupied about the whole surrogacy thing.

My headspace is a little more occupied than usual because of that, but I don't think I need to spill it all yet. It's, to use the completely wrong word, premature. We're still on "if", not "when." And it may not even work anyway. So allowing myself to spend too much time there is not wise. I tend to spend a lot of time thinking about the future anyway (not the distant future, more like the next three, six, ten months), and this particular situation is not definite. And I need to remember not to treat it that way. But then, there are conversations that need to take place, sooner than later. I suppose it's probably time to get Craig back into the mix, right? Given that the couple seems to be leaning toward a tentative "yes", it's probably time to re-introduce the topic. He's not been involved in these exchanges, though he and I have discussed it (briefly) once.

But I approached the couple before he and I had thoroughly hashed it out. Because I didn't know if it even merited a long discussion (there was that possibility that they would have been entirely disinterested in such an offer). And now that there is a conversation underway with the other folks, and it's going the way it's going, there needs to be a long, and maybe not easy, conversation with my husband (who mostly does not read my blog, so please don't bring it up to him if you know him.)

But I somehow don't have the heart to bring up such a serious, and life-altering (at least for a year) topic during Oscar week. With our party coming up on Sunday, he's already a bit more stressed than usual. Yes, that probably makes me sound like a big chicken, making lame excuses, but I already knew that, because the conversation I had with my employees today should have happened two weeks ago. (Maybe the fact that it wasn't horrible with them might convince me that this conversation, too, will probably be fine, even if it's not easy.) Because nobody promised easy, right?

Job security

My new area of supervision at work got a surprise visit from the health inspector today.

Our score? 99/100.

Very nice.

Plus, that means that my madd supervision skillz must be working.

Prolific

My poor blog is dusty. While I'm walking the dogs (three times a day), I often think about my blog and its dusty state. I ponder writing a new entry and consider topics and what happens inside my brain is something like white noise. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

And, in all honesty (which is, of course, the point of blogging, right?), I really don't have anything now either. Things are, well, fine. Not in that teeth-clenched use of the word. Just fine. Work is going fine (if a bit confusing, since my promotion still hasn't been announced to my new staff...). I've stayed quite busy taking on the administration of this venue, and I'm looking forward to some changes in the next few months.

And at home? The kids are doing fine. (That word again!) School is, well, school, meaning the kids have good grades but all the same annoying things keep being annoying (particularly the weight, likely measured in tonnage, of my pre-adolescent daughter's backpack). I sometimes wonder if we'd be happier with a different school, but I have a feeling that we'd just get a new set of grievances. This week's grievance speaks more of the public served by the public school than the school: just before winter break, a note came home that the school would no longer accept checks for payment for field trips and other incidentals. Craig and I read the memo several times, noting that it specifically did NOT say "afterschool enrichment tuition". Afterschool enrichment tuition is $100 per class, and our boy takes two classes, so we knew we'd be sending a $200 payment in mid-January. We re-read it again, just to make sure, and quite confidently sent in the registration form with a check.

And the check? Came back home that afternoon. With a stressed little boy who thought he wouldn't be able to take the classes since it was the deadline for registration.

Oh hell no! (Spoken in my best Memphis ghetto accent, arms akimbo, with a bit of motion in my neck.) I wasn't about to send $200 in cash with an eight-year-old child, nor was I planning to head over to a gas station to get a money order.

So I called the school. I explained, quite cordially, that there was no way in hell that I was sending $200 cash with a child of eight, and that if they needed me to pay with a money order, I'd be happy to get that to them next Monday, because I have a job and can't just run out and buy money orders whenever I feel like it. (Maybe I was bluffing just a tiny bit...but that doesn't really matter, does it?) The regular secretary gave me the whole, "I totally understand your point, but the deadline is tomorrow," response, then offered to transfer me to the financial secretary, who also totally understood my point and hated that a few deadbeats who wrote bad checks to the school ruined it for all the rest of us fiscally-responsible people.

Then she did exactly what I meant for her to do.

"Mrs. Kid's Mom, go ahead and send the check with your son tomorrow. I'll make an exception this time."

She also gave me her name, which I wrote on the registration form, along with the time and date of our conversation, just in case someone got all crazy and forgot that we had this conversation.

Annnnnnnnnnd, I just spent longer typing this entry than the whole drama took in real life. And it's actually kind of hard to even call it drama. Maybe anecdote is a better word?

Which brings me to this: my blog is dusty. Probably because my life is less-than-scintillating just now. I'll update more when I actually have something to say, okay?

Day One

It really wasn't like a first day of work. Maybe because I have the same desk, the same phone number, the same co-workers. And when the majority of the day was spent answering old emails, attending departmental meetings, working through a big pile of stuff, and completing my expense report, it really felt more like a last day than a first day.

Oh, and maybe also because my direct reports haven't been told yet about their change in supervisor.

So, no drama. Which is fine. It'll come. But not yet.

Housekeeping

I realize that I've been quite absent of late, and I apologize. Apparently the deviation from my routine that was my past three weeks had blog-related repercussions. I'll try to do better.


I also realize that, in being a bit circumspect, I've confused a few of you. In the interest of being less confusing, I'll give a bit more information about my professional life than I usually do. (And, in all honesty, I'll likely delete this entry quickly, as I don't want it to haunt me later.)


I work for a children's hospital. It's a very prestigious place to work, and I have no interest or intention of ever leaving, barring retirement. I live ridiculously close to this place (I can see the hospital from all the rooms on the second floor of my house) and love everything about it.


Until December, my job was a little bit more interesting than an administrative assistant. When I was hired, the job was newly-created, and I did a lot with it that had not been imagined. My first boss did not utilize my skills terrifically well, but my second boss immediately saw that I was being horrendously underutilized and spent several months trying to find a new place for me. A place that made more money and had a true impact on our department.


So, in undergoing barista training, I've crossed a hurdle toward my new job. (The new job has been titled, described, and pay-classed already...retroactive to the day I began said training.) BUT...that doesn't mean that my job is barista. In fact, I anticipate that the number of coffees I'll make in a typical week will be closer to five than a hundred.


For those of you keeping score: I have not changed employers, nor departments. My work phone number has not changed. My title, pay grade, and number of direct reports have changed.


The direct reports? That's the most interesting part. And I won't go there on my blog. Because those are people who have their own lives and did not ask, nor consent, to have their careers discussed on the Intarwebs. But yes, I have direct reports, and yes, their lives are fixin' to change.


Because basically? I'm a fixer. We have a broken thing in my department, and I'm going to fix it.


But I also want to tell you about the marvelous people I spent the last two weeks with, in Birmingham. I attended training with them, only because they were kind enough to let me crash their party. They were 100% welcoming, 100% kind, and 100% hard to leave. I may have even slipped one or two or five of them a business card and told them to call me if they ever wanted to move to Memphis.

And then, when it was time for me to drive home? They gave me presents and a card and one of them even gave me a company-specific recognition thing that really, really melted my heart.

Those ladies, folks, are fantastic. The store they're opening will be awesome. I wish I could be there for their grand opening tomorrow, because YES, it will be GRAND.

So, yes, new job. No, new employer. Yes, more money and responsibility. Yes, direct reports.

And, yes, a little nervous about Tuesday. And more than a little happy that tomorrow is a holiday.

Certified

Over the past couple of years, I've gotten some career-related certifications. Certifications so unrelated to my college major that my freshly-out-of-college self would have had a big laugh to even consider them to be part of my life.

I got another one today. And got an almost-perfect score on the exam.

And what I can tell you is this: I smell, at this moment, like a combination of espresso, hazelnut syrup, and whipped cream. It's not a bad smell. But I may not sleep for the rest of the month.

I'm pretty sure my parents didn't have this in mind when they sent me to college, but I'll tell you: I'm really excited about my new job.

Unproductive time

I had such lofty goals for my time in Birmingham. I was going to work on my NaNoWriMo book. I was going to work out every day. I was going to venture out to exciting restaurants.

Bet you're dying to know what I've accomplished. Yes?

I've become completely addicted to C.S.I. Specifically, the Las Vegas version.

It began innocently enough. My lovely family dropped me off at the Birmingham airport, and I drove away in my rental car, hotel-bound. We'd just spent the better part of a week together, half the time driving to and from Orlando, Florida. We'd ridden roller coasters and other thrill rides. We'd spent quality time with my parents. We'd braved a rare cold front in the usually-balmy Sunshine State.

I was, sad to say, a little tired upon my arrival to the hotel.

And I switched on the television. I don't know exactly what happened, but I watched most of a pretty lame movie starring J. Lo, then ordered some lovely Chinese food (the only nearby restaurant listed on Delivery.com), and somehow the television found itself on an episode of C.S.I.

Then another.

And another.

Turns out Spike runs FIVE episodes of C.S.I., back to back, on Sundays.

The rest of the week's evenings have been spent in fervent searches for more episodes. I'm telling you, it's like crack.

As a result, I've not ventured far from my hotel room, other than attending the training I'm here for. I've eaten nothing wonderful. All dinners except one have been consumed in my room, in the chair I'm currently occupying, with the television just four feet away.

I found an episode at 7 this evening, but haven't found one at 8, so I'm drooling while watching Jamie Oliver on Iron Chef America. I'm pretty sure E.R. is new at 9, but I know I'll get two more C.S.I. episodes at 10 and 11.

And I'm eating from the same Chinese place. There was a tornado warning this afternoon, and it's still windy and rainy and I didn't feel like going anywhere.

BUT! I did work out as soon as I got back from "work." So that's something, right?

And I've got dinner plans with my "co-workers" next week. On two days!

But I'll be getting "home" early, because I'm a junkie.

(Is it totally horrible that I'm looking forward to getting back here on Sunday night?)