Heartsick

A good friend and former colleague was laid off yesterday from a senior, executive-level position that she has filled with skill, professionalism and grace for sixteen years.

She knew it was coming and handled the situation with admirable aplomb, but I am furious. This was not a reduction in staff, this was a political situation where new and inexperienced management needed a scapegoat.

I am livid.

And I'm thinking about integrity, and where and how to maintain it. I mentioned last week that I bent over backwards to maintain my integrity regarding hiring a former staff member away from our common former employer -- the result of which is that my friend is being asked to sign a release stating that she will not solicit any current employees to come work for her at a new job.

Such bullshit.

I can't rant much further without being inappropriate (see? integrity!!), so I'mma shut up now.

But tell you what, nobody better fuck with me today.

Point of Entry

I am sorely tempted to tattoo my new salary onto the insides of my eyelids. That way, every time the temptation to put my head down on my (new) desk hits, I'll be reminded of why I took this job and that I do actually want to do well.

Two days in, I'm exhausted and overwhelmed. On top of it, yesterday we quite unexpectedly had to say goodbye to our pet of 20 years, Kermit the parrot. His kidneys had been failing him, but he had been doing better up until a few days ago, when it became clear he was going downhill. Michael took him to the vet and did the compassionate thing, and last night we all shed some tears over a hastily-dug hole in the woods behind our house.

So, whiplash. My final week at the old job was absolutely grueling, and I'm not quite done yet -- I committed to giving my successor a few Saturdays to get him oriented quickly. I wish someone had done the same for me in my new job. I've been thrown into the deep end with no floaties, and there is a lot to learn, not just about this company, but about areas of accounting and finance that will be totally new to me. But that's one of the reasons I took the job, right? Right.

Meanwhile, did I mention I'm tired? Getting up an hour-plus earlier than I'm used to is going to take some.... getting used to. So if I'm slow to answer emails or calls, please bear with me. I'm starting over and it's harder than I thought it would be....

Eerie Ways in Which......

... the universe validated my decision to leave my job today, my last day of work:

-- at 4:40pm, my pen ran out of ink

-- at 5:45pm, my post-in dispenser ran out of post-its

-- at 9:15pm, my roll of paper towels ran out of towels

Gee, you'd think I'm slow or something. I got the message, Universe!

By the Numbers

5 - number of hours per sleep per night I've been averaging
4 - number of boxes of crap I hauled out of my soon-to-be-former office this week
3 - number of paintings still on the walls of my office, to be removed Thursday
2 - number of consecutive nights I've eaten Stouffer's French Bread Pizza for dinner
1 - number of days until my current job becomes by FORMER job

Can I please get a BOOYA?!

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Here is how I feel today.

Peace out, everyone!

The Week That Was

I don't want to get Dooced, here. So I'm going to tell you a fairy tale.

Imagine you are one of three original founders/operators of a successful business, now in its 18th year. Five years ago, you took on outside investors for the first time, buying out one of the original founders, and giving up majority control of the company to the venture capitalists. A couple of golden years ensue; profits are made and growth occurs.

Imagine that then a recession hits. The company you founded provides a business service that is sensitive to economic vagaries, and business takes a 40-45% hit. As CEO, you struggle with decisions that will keep the company alive -- salary cuts, expense elimination -- without gutting the company's ability to recover when times get flush.

Imagine that you manage to steer this company and its weary, battered staff into safe shoals for 2010. Imagine the entire company taking a collective deep breath of relief as 2010 starts off with stronger numbers than you've seen in over a year.

Then imagine that your partners, the majority owners, make a surprise visit to the corporate offices to tell you that your services as CEO are no longer required, effective immediately.

***

My job is secure, for now. A new CEO has been brought in to "drive growth" so that our investors can turn around and sell the company in a year or two. The writing is on the wall, though, and I'm coming to work everyday with a lump in my stomach.

Anybody need a CFO?

Reflections on Commuting by Bicycle

• Don't forget the water bottle.
• Up hills on the way to work = Down hills on the way home
• Quads, glutes and hamstrings = OUCH
• Bicycle grease + white t-shirt = EPIC FAIL

Today I Am Thankful For

• 20% off coupons at Bed Bath & Beyond that never expire
• my co-worker for bringing back salt water taffy from da shore
• my snazzy new remote deposit scanner that is currently occupying the real estate where the tissue box usually goes on my desk. This is a nifty piece of equipment, yo. Even if I am a bit of a geek for loving it so.
  

Don't You Wish You Were Me?

The only thing more fun than carefully reading 50+ pages of banking documents associated with a $2.5MIL refinance?

Doing it with construction taking place directly below your office.

Admit it, you're jealous.

I Had the Dream Last Night

You know the dream where you're unprepared for school? I had that dream last night. In my version of this dream, I'm taking college classes and haven't been to class in weeks and don't know which rooms to go to and don't have courses syllabuses (syllabi?). There may be midterms this day -- I don't know. In the dream, I also haven't been to my college mailbox in weeks and so I know that there are things I'm missing and I'm just not ready for any of it.

It took me long moments upon waking to remember that I'm not taking college courses now -- my waking brain first tried to reason that it was summer time and that I had surely taken courses during the first summer session, but now it's second summer session, and I didn't even register for second session, so I hadn't, in fact, missed anything except for registration......

It will not be a surprise to hear that I have been in a stew of anxiety the last few weeks. Big shifts going on at work, household matters being left unattended, a big fundraising opportunity next weekend that I've just started preparing for....... I feel much like that old drug abuse commercial: this is my brain on stress.

Luckily jury duty last week ended up being a non-starter. Now all I need to do is fold the laundry, clean the house, get the plumbers in to fix the major second floor blockage, bake 500+ cookies, weed the garden, walk the dog, do my back exercises, make eye appointments for the kids, pay the bills, email the dozens of friends I've been neglecting, etc., etc.

I think I'll start by taking a nap.

HALP!

Have been emprisioned by field auditors.

No time to write.

Send file baked in a pie, tequila, and abacus.

Be Vewy Vewy Quiet

The Universe is listening to my thoughts, and it's smacking me around but good.

Late yesterday morning, I had my desk almost cleared and was getting ready to tackle projects that have been sitting and languishing for longer than I will admit. "Phew," I thought to myself, "with this Mexico thing almost under control (knock on wood and spit), I think I'm on the brink of being able to breathe more easily and get more done and sleep better at night and be a less cranky person in general."

Not ten minutes later, I had received panic calls from our investors and our Mexico accountants, each needing about 5 hours worth of work from me (on unrelated but equally urgent topics) as soon as possible. Those old projects? Still languishing. Smackdown!

You'd think that that woulda learned me, but no. As I was driving home from physical therapy at the end of a verrrrrry long day (and facing an evening of baking cookies as last-day-of-school gifts and a "goodbye" cake for Michael's boss, who's leaving), I realized that we had still not heard back from the very nice lady who won the cake raffle at the Charity Fun Fair. She had been very diffident when we phoned her, and at the time I had the impression that she'd probably forget about the whole thing and I'd not have to make a cake. So as I was driving home yesterday, my thoughts ran thusly: "Gee, we never heard from her. I guess that's good -- I don't have to make a cake. Though, if she wasn't planning on using it, perhaps we should have drawn another name?... No! It's fine! I don't have to make cake! Tralala!"

Three guesses who called me on my cell phone this afternoon? Extra points if you guessed that her granddaughter is graduating high school and the party is a mere week from Saturday. Her son and daughter-in-law are hosting the party, so she couldn't even give me particulars yet. Ka-pow!

Score: Universe 2, Ruth 0.

Now, you don't have to beat me over the head. I'm not thinking anything to myself, anymore. No more thoughts, ever. Clearly, no good can come of it.

Self-Doubt Monday

I had an arch, witty little post percolating in my head regarding the horror that was my work day on Friday that coincided with my PMS (you're welcome), but I just can't go through with it. It was along the lines of how-to-maximize-your-PMS (open company in Mexico [DON'T YOU DARE; I will hunt you down]; hire well-meaning but incompetent vendor to handle payroll; make sure you're 2 days away from your monthly; on payroll day, shake violently and stand back) and it would have been wry and cute and self-deprecating. You'd have enjoyed it. But I'm not going to write it.

Instead I'm sitting at my desk on this gorgeous Monday morning with an aching back (too much gardening therapy on Sunday) and a pit in my stomach. I need to clear the wreckage strewn on my desk -- detritus of the multiple payroll f*ck-ups and vendor screw-ups and near-disasters that have resulted in staffing mutinies in Mexico over the weekend and may well result in mass firings -- but I find that I'm fighting myself. I can't dig in and get it done.

No matter how old I am (shut it), how successful I am in my career, how accomplished I am in real-life terms, all it takes is one major blow-up and I am instantly thrown back into that horrible place of self-doubt and second-guessing. What could I have done differently? Did I do everything I could to correct the situation? Is my production head angry at me for the screw-up that resulted in her losing a whole shift over the weekend? Does my boss blame me for hiring these frocking incompetent payroll chowder heads in the first place? And, how do I solve it, long term?

My brain knows the answer to some of these questions; it's going to take my heart a little longer to learn them.

At least I got some gardening done.

Oh Hai!

I've been a little busy.

Okay, I've been a lot busy.

In the last four days I've:

• made lots of vats of cookie dough
• planted the early crops in the veg patch after turning and amending the soil (ouch)
• repotted the indoor seedlings for a heavy drinking seedling exchange party on Saturday
• admired my mother's garden and wept with envy
  
• mailed the party invites for Garrick's upcoming birthday
• fretted and plotted about Sunday's fundraising bake sale
• met with the husband of a friend of a friend who was recently diagnosed with PKD
• took the puking, rear-end-bleeding dog to the vet (he's better now)
  
• worked really late Tuesday and missed the reruns of "The Office" on TBS
  
• started physical therapy (woot!)

Do you think I've been overdoing it? Maybe?

Re: the working late, I have a little piece of advice. If your boss asks you to help open a branch of your company in Mexico? Run. You want no part of it. It will age you faster than drugs, parenting and air pollution combined.

Re: the garden and seedlings, I am cautiously optimistic. I moved four wheelbarrows full of leaf mulch by myself on Sunday and while it hurt, it didn't put me out of commission. If I manage to get everything planted on time (HA!), we should have a terrific harvest. "Lavender Touch" eggplant, anyone?....

Re: the physical therapy, I am such a wimp. During the strength test portion of the intake evaluation, I was as weak as a little newborn kitten. Pathetic. My initial exercises are insultingly gentle -- teeny tiny pelvic tilts, very mild bridges. I know this is where I have to start, but boy, do I feel old.

Re: the fundraising bake sale, I'm alternately stoked and petrified. If I manage to bake up all the cookie dough that's in the freezer before Sunday, I'll have about 450 cookies to sell. Plus the cake raffle. Plus the zucchini muffins I'll be making because Michael threatened me suggested that the 20 pounds of shredded garden (local! organic!) zucchini is taking up too much room in the freezer. Plus the banana muffins I'll HAVE to make because I've got bananas going brown on the counter. Is that too much stuff to sell, or way too little? I haven't the foggiest notion, but am perfectly willing to drive myself crazy worrying about it.

The HARDEST part is that Michael will have to do the set-up without me -- I'll be driving back from visiting my wonderful gardening friends in Virginia on the morning of the event. I know Michael will be fine and I'll be there hungover before the event starts, but it's still wigging me out. (NO, I'm not a control freak!!! How could you say such a thing?)

It might be time to break out the chocolate and tequila...

Audit Week

As defined by me, to Garrick: "People from outside my company come in and look at all of the work I did over the last year, and try to find things I did wrong."

Pass the tequila.

Thoughts on Leaving El Paso

• It is very hard to get a vegeterian meal in El Paso.
• It is equally difficult to get a meal without cheese.
• Four days of eating cheese ties my intestines into double-sailor-hitch knots.
• If you wear your perkiest bra, the car rental agent at the airport will give you a free upgrade from Intermediate Size Car to Small SUV.
• A Small SUV is hard to drive when you're used to driving nothing bigger than a Mazda Protege.
• The gas pumps are swanky in El Paso -- in between ads to visit the attached mini-mart, they play rock and roll, which is a fun distraction while filling the tank.
• In a strip-mall smack-down between El Paso and southern New Jersey, El Paso wins. By a lot.
• For all of the shopping centers and strip malls clogging the landscape, you will only spy one grocery store. For the whole city.
• Getting into Mexico from El Paso is easy.
• Getting into El Paso from Mexico is harder and takes more time.
• When you're at the airport waiting on line to check in for your return flight, there is a better-than-even chance that a swarm of camouflage-wearing soldiers from Fort Bliss will arrive with lots of duffle bags.
• Lots of soldiers from Fort Bliss in a confined area creates a palpable cloud of testosterone that hovers near the ceiling without dispersing.
• If you like muscular men in uniform (and who doesn't), lots of soldiers from Fort Bliss in a confined area just might give you the vapors.
• No matter how hard you work while you are in El Paso, your payroll company will manage to raise your blood pressure to a zillion kagillion before you leave for Puerto Vallarta.

Brain Dead. Send Vodka and Lemon Twists.

Our investors are coming to town tomorrow for a Board meeting and I am but fried to a crisp. My job title is Comptroller; in actuality, I am the Comptroller, VP of Administrative Affairs, Den Mother and Career Coach to the rest of the (all younger) VPs and Director-level staff. Prepping my own work for a Board meeting is a big enough task; getting everyone else ready to rumble is just non-stop, toe-curlingly, relentlessly exhausting.

I should mention that I love my job, my bosses, and my co-workers, I really do. (I even love our investors. A more fantabulous bunch of investment bankers you will never meet.) Someday I'll post more about it, because the organizational dynamics at play are utterly fascinating to me, and therefore might be of some slight interest to my pretty Internet friends.

But not tonight! Tonight I am fried to a crisp. Michael is out, the kids are down, the dog is quiet, and the last half of "Grey's Anatomy" is waiting in the DVR. Not wanting to give in to the total lametude (totally a word) of a cop-out post, though, I thought I'd share the genesis for my blog name. It's a cute little bedtime story: I'm telling the story, then I'm going to bed.

Two years ago, when my grandmother moved to an assisted living community nearby and stopped driving, Michael and I bought her car from her. It's a young-ish Honda Accord, and believe me when I tell you it had not seen much use -- perfect for Michael and his long commute. We wrote Gram a check and in addition to the car, got the extra good karma of her satisfaction that the car was going to be of "good use" to somebody.

As must befall all Honda Accords eventually, however, the miles started catching up with it this past summer and things started to break. I think there was an exhaust system problem, and several tires needed replacing. The starter went. Et cetera and so forth.

On one of these many triage missions to our local mechanic, Michael picked up an old New Yorker magazine to flip through while he waited. I'm sure he snorted back an audible laugh when he got to this cartoon, and I'm equally sure he asked the mechanics' permission before ripping the cartoon out to bring home to me. We were deep into the selling-cookies-to-raise-money scheme by then, and I was punch-drunk enough to fall in love with the cartoon, stick it on my fridge, and make goo-goo eyes at it every time I walked by.

Months passed, cookie sales ended, and as I cast about for a name for the new blog, Michael very sensibly pointed out that I would never come up with anything as good as Lemonade and Kidneys. As soon as he said it, I knew that he was right, as he so often is.

Thank you, and goodnight.