signs o’ the times
Suddenly, my schadenfreude-laced voyeurism of the nosediving U.S. economy has taken a turn for the uncomfortably close to home. (Did that sentence make sense?)
Wait, let me back up. And let me parse this carefully so that it winds up neither on Fucked Company nor my COO’s desk.
I work for a company that provides consulting services for businesses that use OdiousTM
software. It’s a little company with a big client list, many of which, I assure you, you’ve heard of. A couple of weeks ago, I successfully steered Phase 3 of a project for Media-Company-Not-to-be-Named, which acquired Television-Company-Household-Name, to completion. Didn’t get a word of praise or thanks, as everyone else was either out enjoying the holidays or drowning in their own projects. Oh well, Whitney Houston told me the greatest love is inside of me or something.
Uncertain of what to do with myself with the sudden and shocking lack of stress beating down on me and keeping me awake (shoutout to Jim’s Big Ego for writing my theme song), and aware that some of my coworkers were suffering with a gnarly project of their own for Video-Game-Company-Yes-You-Know-Them, which was, how shall I put this…. having “issues”…. I spunkily/proactively/idiotically happened to mention that, hey, I’m not that busy at the moment, anybody need some help? Insert creepy theremin mood music foreshadowing here.
So I worked on the VideoGameCYYKT project the day after Christmas, since it wasn’t a company holiday and hey, I didn’t have anything else to do; every other business in the U.S. was CLOSED that day in heartwarming Christian observance of the birth of baby whatshisface.
The next week, which would be, oh let’s see, after Christmas comes, yes, that’s right, New Year’s, my office husband (hey, it’s a cultural phenomenon, look it up) was supposed to be on vacation with his other wife and kid. I’m guessing it was the worst vacation of his life, because La Jefe (Cuban-American manager of my department and *not* to be trifled with) had no intention of letting the festering VideoGameCo project sit for a week. She called him several times a day, every day. She called him while he was driving the fam to NYC in a snowstorm. She called him in the Holland Tunnel. She called him when he was getting his car worked on, taking his kid to the movies, and a couple hundred other times. My reward for having finished my project on time and with a happy client was to be immediately drafted onto the festering VG project, so I even called my buddy on his vacation a couple of times myself, although I hate that kind of thing.
New Year’s Eve rolls around; stinky VG project has big deadline of some sort. I only know this from overhearing bits and pieces of conversations that drift over cubicle walls. Young coworker is charged with leading part of time sensitive deadline. Young coworker, who clearly has much better work-life balance than I do, doesn’t give a shit and leaves the office at noon to enjoy NYE in Boston with boyfriend and, I feel certain, an unhealthy but highly entertaining quantity of alcohol. Young coworker doesn’t answer company-paid cell phone when La Jefe calls her… repeatedly…
Yours truly picks up where Young Coworker left off. YT works late on New Year’s Eve. YT works all day New Year’s Day. And the day after, which isn’t a company holiday (if company shafts the birth of baby whatshisface, you think it’s gonna curtail the billable hours for a lousy end-of-solar-cycle?). And the day after that (Saturday, in case you’ve lost count). YT writes management summary of festering VideoGame project on behalf of project managers A, B, and C, because… wait, why *was* I the one to write that? Anyway, they liked it.
Which brings us to today. YT is looking forward to 3-day weekend, to make up for working all day last Saturday (still owed for New Year’s Day, and the day I went into the office on my vacation to put out fire on MediaCompanyNTBN project and then lost the vacation hours at the end of the year but that’s another story). Festering VideoGame project has another big deadline. Young coworker has no excuse to leave early today, so at least we’ll be sharing the burden.
Receive bounced email from internal software system that was addressed to Chick-Out-On-Maternity-Leave. Third email this week. Although it’s no longer my responsibility to deal with stuff like that, having pawned it off on The Kid months previously, The Kid is far more interested in band practice than showing up in the office at 9 (or 10, or 11, for that matter), so I figure I’ll just deal with it myself. Figure COOML’s mailbox is probably maxed out. Check company directory to confirm she’s still listed. Send her a test email, and it is returned to me saying “Name does not exist”. Curious…
Remove COOML’s email address from internal software system. IM The Kid to let him know I did his job for him. He says he was just about to do that. Also mentions that COOML is “no longer with us”. Says she was scheduled to come back from maternity leave on Monday, but La Jefe told her not to bother as her position has been “eliminated”. Says La Jefe is rumored to have said “there will be others”. Ask from whom The Kid got this information. The Kid says from COOML.
Suddenly have crisis of faith in COO, who sends out weekly “reports to the troops” in which he has repeatedly stated that company is doing better than ever. Suddenly see various things I’ve noticed around the office in recent weeks in a whole new and disturbingly murky light.
Meanwhile, receive email from La Jefe, forwarded from VGCYYKT, saying that tomorrow’s deadline must be met. Failure is not an option! VPN (for the non-geeks among you, this is a way of remotely connecting to another company’s computer network) connection to VGCYYKT is down all morning; entire team is dead in water.
VPN is restored mid-day; team works furiously to meet unreasonable deadline that Project Manager knew about weeks ago but “forgot” until earlier this week. YT works through lunch, barely pausing to notice team member who leaves office for several hours during the day for an “appointment” and comes back with a new hairstyle. Around 6:00PM, YT, who sits close enough to La Jefe’s office to hear parts of conference calls, overhears call in which Project Manager tells La Jefe something about “refuse to pay” and “stop all work”. YT is aware that VGCYYKT already owes company large sum of money, and company has been doing the business equivalent of kneeling down and opening wide for weeks, if not months, in hopes of enticing VGCYYKT to pay up. Smell death on the breeze. Wonder whose heads will roll.
Young Coworker stops by to provide update on her tasks. Whisper to YC equivalent of “we’re screwed” and suggest she not bother starting any new tasks until La Jefe gets off phone. YC is unperturbed; Thursday is bar night.
Gallows humor spreads like wildfire amongst teammembers. “Well, at least we’ll sleep well tonight!” “Won’t have to work *this* weekend, Ha Ha!” Ask La Jefe how this rates in the list of company’s Unfortunate Incidents. “Number 1″ is her prompt response.
Looks like I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue.
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