It's Movie Night!

Well, 8 months later and I'm still looking for a job. I'm really starting to detest the dreaded "What do you want to do?" question. Eventually, I'm going to have to answer it like this:

I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that.

Big bonus points to anyone (other than Lance) who can name that movie.

I recently watched two of my all-time favorite movies from different eras. The first is St. Elmo's Fire (judge not!) and the second is Reality Bites. Both movies deal with groups of friends right after college graduation, the first in the '80s and the second in the '90s. The differences are astounding, yet the underlying theme, I think, is the same. Obviously, I identify more with Reality Bites, as it came out a year before I graduated from BSU, but St. Elmo's Fire is definitely a classic. And it's celebrating its 25th anniversary this year. EW covered it here: http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,20406218,00.html

Anyway, the point is that when you graduate from college, you have gigantic dreams for your career, your future, your life. And then one day, you stop and observe and nothing is turning out like you thought it would. And realizing that's OK is probably the precise moment you actually grow up. Well, I'm finding the same logic to be true with the India Project. Sure, this isn't where I saw the career path going. But I'm venturing down a new path now and trying to figure out where I'll end up. Of course, until I reach my new destination, I seem to be taking every detour to nowhereville. (Yes, I made up a word.)

While I'm fairly certain that I'll never work in corporate America again, I'm not ruling anything out anymore. I see a correlation between never saying never and this quote from St. Elmo's Fire:

"I always thought we'd be friends forever."

"Well, forever suddenly got a lot shorter."

And remember what Winona Ryder's Lelaina said right before landing a job in Reality Bites:

"I was this close to selling fruit at intersections!"

Well, I'm not close to opening a lemonade stand on the cul-de-sac yet, so I think I'm in good shape over here!

Bringing Back the Fun!

I'm bringing back the fun. Case closed, time to move on.

I often think about how unprepared I was for a corporate job as a 22-year-old recent college grad. I'd had jobs since I was 14, but working part time as a teenager doesn't really translate to the corporate world. I took a 400-level Interviewing class my senior year, which I found to be valuable and applicable to the corporate world. That got me thinking: Wouldn't it be great if colleges offered an introduction to corporate America? The course might look something like this:

Corporate America 101: Introduction to a Corporate Environment and Dysfunctional Workplace

Required Reading:

"White Collar Sweatshop"

"A Working Girl Can't Win"

"Then We Came to the End"

Required Viewing:

"Office Space"

"Clockwatchers"

Weekly Discussions:

Week 1: Playing nicely with idiot coworkers

Week 2: Why being stupid will help you get ahead

Week 3: Email 101

Week 4: Don't dip your pen in the company ink (or never, EVER date your coworkers)

Week 5: Getting the most from your benefits

Week 6: Writing the ultimate resignation letter

Week 7: What to do when your boss is a jackass

Week 8: Dealing with drama in the workplace

Week 9: Thinking like an HR person

Week 10: How to attend long meetings about nothing and come out smiling

Week 11: Knowing when it's time to move on

Week 12: Deciphering the difference between office gossip and the truth

I so would have signed up for a class like this and I would have been all the wiser upon entering corporate America in 1995.

On a separate note: Does anyone have any good movie suggestions when it comes to corporate America? I still need to see "Up In the Air," I hear it's awesome.

Cheers. Seriously.

Isn't it Ironic?

When I sit down and really think about what irks me the most about losing my job, I always come back to the same thing: I got played. Plain and simple. No other way to state the facts. No alternate route from A to B. And that simple fact grinds on my nerves more than anything else in my life. I keep looking back, wondering what clues I missed, what hints I didn't pick up on and what I could have done differently. Did I miss something completely obvious, like a "Road Closed" sign right before I drive off of a cliff? Or a "No Swimming" sign on a beach right before I'm devoured by a shark? These are the things I ponder late at night, when it's just me and my MacBook.

I suppose I'm the ultimate irony. I detest corporate America. And that's never been a secret. I like to have the last word. Again, not a secret. And if anyone was ever going to stick it Prison Media, it was going to be me. Once again, not exactly a news flash.

Until they beat me to it. To quote the song "It's the good advice that you just didn't take." I mean, right? I gave so many others advice on how to escape from corporate America, yet there I still was, working like one of Santa's elves right before Christmas. And it just kills me that I couldn't see how ironic I was being. I took pride in being the poster child for productivity, and yet, behind my back, out of ear shot, the plot was being hatched. It wouldn't have mattered what kind of insanity I pulled off, what impossible deadlines I met, how well I performed my ridiculous job duties. My job was going to India. Period.

One of my greatest faults is not being able to move on from injustices. I suppose that's why my best friend calls me "Kate I Can Hold a Grudge Forever." She is so right. I readily admit it. Ten years from now I'll probably still be wishing that a dump truck of karma shows up in Boss's driveway. Hell, that's too nice. My wish for Boss is so vile and inhumane, that I can't post it here because my Mom reads my blog. Just think of that urban legend about the zoo keeper who gives a constipated elephant an enema and ends up being in the wrong place at the wrong time and suffocates in a mountain of elephant feces. It's like that. But much worse.

In other news, I'm pretty sure I found a new job. I'll know more next week, but it's looking fairly promising. [Applause.]

Sweetness

I'm 7 months removed from the India Project. And while I obviously don't miss working at Prison Media, I definitely miss working. I believe we've covered this topic before, but I was riding in the elevator up to the pediatric dentist office today and I started to think about what I miss about working, besides my paycheck.

(For the record, the boy fell off a step stool while peeing and smashed his face on the toilet, knocking a tooth loose. And he peed all over his shoes in the process. And this was before I had to dig a Lego out of his nose with tweezers. And people wonder why I miss working!)

The elevator made me laugh because once my coworker Sweetness got in the elevator and the doors closed. She forgot to push the button and she was just standing there, wondering if the elevator was broken and if she was going to need to call 911. Then, someone else walked up to the elevator and pushed the up button and the doors opened and there was Sweetness, just standing there. I laugh about it every time I ride in an elevator, as it's just plain funny.

Sweetness is the same coworker who was walking in front of me, down a flight of stairs, carrying a bowl of homemade salsa to a company potluck. Well, she somehow lost her balance and fell down the stairs and managed to not spill the salsa. It was a true miracle, I tell you. And while it's really not all that polite to laugh at someone who falls down the stairs, the sight of her, on her back, holding that bowl of salsa above her head, still makes me laugh out loud. And yes, she was fine.

And perhaps the best Sweetness story is the time the CEO and COO were in town and our department was asked to help them with a PowerPoint presentation. Sweetness was a PP expert, so she was doing most of the work. When it was time to bring them a proof, she walked up to the CEO and called him the wrong name. He corrected her and she said, "Oh, sorry! I'm Kate, it's nice to meet you."

There's just something about the bond between coworkers that doesn't transfer to the real world. Those work friendships are a lot harder to maintain when someone leaves and others stay. There's always this unspoken distance. I have one former coworker who wants to keep in touch, yet she won't mention anything work related to me. It's like she has national security clearance and I'm not allowed to know what's going on. I mean really, this is Prison Media, not the Secret Service. On the bright side, I've joined a club of Prison Media cast-offs and that's way more fun than socializing with the inmates. (And to the editors that I love and always will, you so know I'm not talking about you. Bring on the margaritas at our favorite dive!)

The best part of this story is that I taught Sweetness everything she knows when she was my intern 9 years ago. And now, she's trying to hook me up with a job at her new company. If it works out, a celebration will be in order. And this time, I'll bring the salsa.

Human Stampede

One thing that always made me laugh in corporate America was the email announcing free food. It usually went something like this:

There are lunch leftovers in the break room. Help yourselves!

I'd receive an email like this, and then I'd stick my head out my door and watch the hungry people stampede by like a herd of wildebeests during the great migration. And I had to wonder: What the heck is so enticing about eating someone else's leftovers? Isn't that on the same level as dumpster diving?

Why would anyone run down the hall to devour cold pizza and warm sandwiches? I always thought of where that food had most likely been and the picture wasn't so appetizing. Odds are the leftovers had been sitting on a table in a conference room, uncovered, while dozens of people talked excitedly around it, spit and germs flying out of their mouths, landing on the food that others would later graciously, and unknowingly, consume. Yum-yum.

So, the next time the leftovers email circulates after a management meeting, picture your manager and then imagine eating his/her saliva. Then see how tempted you are to gallop down the hall for a slice of cardboard pizza.

The other food thing that always fascinated me was the "free" table in the break room. This was a table filled with stale candy, old canned goods and basically any worthless piece of junk one might find when cleaning out a long-ago vacated office. These items were all gathered together and placed on table with a handwritten note that said "Free."

The "free" table was especially interesting several months after a holiday. The leftover, stale Halloween candy usually showed up around January. And the old Christmas eats and treats usually appeared in late February. I suppose the really crazy thing is that these "free" things would eventually disappear and I'm sure it wasn't the trash can where they were ending up.

What's that saying, "One man's trash..."

Corporate Motivational Posters!

I wish I could take credit for writing this list. Instead, I'll take credit for compiling it!

Things We'd Like to See on Company Motivational Posters

The light at the end of the tunnel has been turned off due to budget cuts. (My personal favorite.)

Rome did not create a vast empire by having meetings. They did it by killing all those who opposed them.

Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity.

If at first you don't succeed — try management!

If you do a good job and work hard, you may get a job with a better company someday.

It's only unethical if you get caught.

A person who smiles in the face of adversity probably has a scapegoat.

Doing a job RIGHT the first time gets the job done. Doing the job WRONG fourteen times gives you job security. (Addition by Kate: And pretty much guarantees you a promotion.)

Sure, you may not like working here, but we pay your rent.

If you think we're a bad firm, you should see our rivals! (We suck less!)

If you stay calm, while everyone around you is panicking, then you probably haven't completely understood the situation.

We make great money! We have great benefits! We do no work! We are union members!

Plagiarism saves time.

At least you're not being rectally probed by aliens.

Never put off until tomorrow what you can avoid altogether.

This can't go on forever, even the Third Reich only lasted 12 years.

TEAMWORK… means never having to take all the blame yourself.

And This Week's Theme Is...

Why do all company parties have to revolve around a theme? If we're having a summer party, why do we need a beach theme? Why do hula skirts and Gilligan look-a-like contests have to be part of the festivities? I remember entire theme *weeks* at one job, just like Homecoming week in high school. You know, hippie day, crazy hair day, pajama day, etc., etc. Am I supposed to like my coworkers more when we're dressed in slippers and bathrobes? Does the jerk down the hall become less of a jerk with purple hair?

Another favorite was the work bowling outing. Bowling is pretty fun, don't get me wrong. Especially when there's beer and pizza and missing work involved. What is not so fun, however, is being broken into teams and having to come up with a team name. And then having to coordinate outfits to match the team name. I call that Bowling on My Parade.

Once, when I was 24, I beat the CEO in a putting contest at a game-themed party. Something tells me they never held that contest again.

Games were a big deal at the book publisher. I remember an entire day being devoted to board games. Each office had a different game set up and we had to go around the building, playing games and yelling "Uno" and "You sunk my battleship" as a team building exercise. I'm all for playing games, as long as quarters and thumping a table are involved...

Although, now that my days in corporate America have come to an end, how often do I find myself playing Candyland in the middle of the day or yelling "Duck, duck, goose!" to a group of youngsters? The answer is quite unfortunate, to quote my cousin!