Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Thanks a lot....

...for putting up with my indulging in morose self-pity.

I have issues (shut up), and one of those is a mild tendency towards depression. It is the reason why I tend to be upbeat, even in my more snide attempts at humor. It is also the reason why I tend to avoid certain sites when the invective is flying. The hate gets overwhelming at times, and I just can't read line after line about how much somebody hates some celeb because they were under the wrong lights or actually had a sex life better than most nuns or some such other crap.

Part of this recent funk was with my current "job", in quotes because of what's to follow.

My dad got involved with some old Army buddies of his in a particular venture. It is, to the best of my knowledge, a IT startup that deals mostly with major companies, our first client already in place. I don't want to get into too much detail about the actual participants, so I am omitting names to be on the safe side. Due to my father's involvement, and my computer science background, I was asked to join as well. I was told I would be part of maintenance and repair, and was tasked with developing a plan for "preventive maintenance".

Well, let me list out the problems with this "job" and this "company":

- For a company that had been so many years in the making (they wanted to bring me in before college, but Dad said no), how come simple things were never established until the last few months, like employee insurance for one? Especially since we wouldn't be allowed to officially work on-site for our client without it.

- How come I haven't seen hide nor hair of an actual business plan? Hell, I helped my brother do one for his ice cream business, so I know how much of an advantage they provide.

- Contradictory job requirements. Like how I am supposed to examine the equipment, but not actually fix any problems, since they already had somebody for that. My job doesn't require me to even be there everyday, but my paycheck does. I am supposed to make detailed reports, but only submit summaries of the findings, unless they say otherwise.

- They seem to conveniently ignore the fact that I told them SCHOOL WAS MY #1 PRIORITY. This "job" was supposed to be part time, but with travel included, it is draining too much from my studies.

- They have no clue what "preventive maintenance" means. It means I don't show up but one a period, swap out some parts, and then leave. I don't have to be there every goddamn day, assmunches. And no, I don't give a fuck about showing a "presence". If shit break down, they call me, I fix it. If it don't break down, then you don't see my black ass for 3 months, got it?

- And here is the kicker: no one can tell me, point blank, what the fuck I am supposed to do or produce. I am an engineer in heart, if not in title. I need some idea of what the fuck I am getting paid for. Give me a start point and end point, and I will figure out a path between. But don't ask me to create the entire fucking maze for you.

Think of it this way: you see a commercial for pizza. You say "Golly, I would really like some pizza." Then you wait for an hour. After that time, you call up the pizza shop and demand to know where your pizza is, despite the fact you never told them what you wanted. How the fuck are they supposed to know you wanted a pizza? You didn't tell them, and unless Psylocke is moonlighting, they didn't read your fucking mind. All they can do is tell you what the CAN DO, and you tell them what you WANT DONE. They proceed to do it, using all they have to complete the task. That is how this "job" seems. They want me to do some task, but I don't know what the fuck it is, and they won't tell me.

Understand the quotes now?

Funny thing is, if it wasn't for me talking to my mother about my problems today, I would not have found the will to go on. I will flat out say it: I came really close to ending it. I really did. But during that talk, where I let out all the fury building up inside me and realized I wasn't crazy, that I wasn't the only one who saw how fucked up this situation was, the darkness lifted. I wasn't cheered up, I was pissed off. And I wasn't going to leave this rock without setting some things straight.

Ah, the wonderful healing powers of pure unadulterated rage.

So, my plan is this: finish out the week (hey, I need the dough) and present the results to the best of my ability and knowledge. If they like it, great; that means I have an idea of where to go next. If they don't, if these fuckers ask me to change it without giving me one clear motherfucking idea, if they can't raise their fucking finger, point at the paper, and manage to squeeze the words "Change this to _____" or any permutation thereof out of the gaping maw they use to produce the English language, I am going to quit. All my energy will be focused into NOT caving in their skull with a cubicle wall or a Zebra S4M; so I will politely explain that I cannot be a part of their company at this time, and that they need to find someone who can fulfill their needs more to their satisfaction.

Maybe Matt Parkman is looking for a career change.

P.S. Expect a lot more introspection and sharing on here. This is free therapy, albeit with no expectation of privacy or licensed professionals.

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2 brain pickings:

  1. See, now that's what I meant by "come out swinging."

    So... keep us posted and good luck.

  2. Shadows of DakaronMarch 7, 2008 at 11:09 AM

    Rage is one of the most productive emotions...because you feel the need to do something, anything, as long as you can do it angry. Doing things angry always feels good.


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