The Goal of Cube City

I recently had to write down my Cube City goals for the year, and I was at a loss. I stared blankly at a computer screen for days. Then I had to plop something--anything--down on paper because I had to go into a room with a bunch of managers and be forced to talk about goals and what to do with cube dwellers who "don't care" about their destiny.

All I could think about was the irony of it all. The leaders of Cube City don't care about me in the present day, let alone my destiny. And it's not that the cube dwellers "don't care" about their destiny. They just know how it is and that nothing is ever going to change, so why bother? Cube City is not set up for achievement of goals. We all know this. But we are supposed to go into some imaginary place in our minds and dream of being set up for success and what that might look like. I really don't have time or energy for the hypothetical.

It is what it is. Let's not pretend. We are going nowhere. FAST. That might not be the intended goal of Cube City, but it's the only goal that gets achieved here every time.

Fear Period

My new cube mate is going through a "fear period." This means she is afraid of most sounds and sudden movements. When she's here in Cube City, she appears to be fearful of most cube dwellers too, or at least very cautious when she first approaches them.

I don't think any of this makes her a freak. I think this makes her smart and normal. The thing is, most young pups like her tend to grow out of their fear periods. I don't think the same can be said for the rest of us.

Making a Deposit

I once interviewed a prospective patient for a video project in Cube City. The prospective patient told me all about herself in great detail, and I took copious notes. You see, with video projects, it's best to distract your audience with fluffy and completely unrelated topics -- like the patient's hobbies, dreams, and fears -- before you hit them with the product or service you're trying to sell.

Anyway, one of this prospective patient's hobbies was gambling. She said she would go down to the casino once a week. She viewed her gambling hobby as "making a deposit." She would only take enough money along to make a deposit. Whenever she got to the point where she had deposited all of her gambling funds at the casino, she'd call it a night. I loved listening to this woman. She could've sold me my own shoes because she sounded so realistic and sensible.

I think every day in Cube City is a gamble. That said, I think I'll make a deposit at the lottery ticket store tonight.

Taking the Good With the Bad

When your Cube City colleagues are traveling for business, this can be a good thing or a bad thing.

GOOD: They're out of the office, so you don't have to physically see them.

BAD: They might have a really long, boring plane ride and decide to be constructive...in which case you'll get a bunch of feedback from them once they hit land and an Internet connection.

BAD: If they're really bored and decide to spend their evenings working, you are severely punished the next morning when you check your email. This punishment trickles down into your day. It's like they know you are happy they're gone, and they want to destroy your hopes for happiness and relief as soon as possible.

I find that you need to be on your guard 24/7 when your colleagues are traveling, so I'm not sure if their lack of presence in the office is worth its weight in gold...but I'd like to find a silver lining.

Could Somebody Please Bless Me?

I've got all the symptoms -- the puffy stinging eyes, the fuzzy head, the throat irritation, the uncontrollable sneezing, the urge to go back to bed and never get up...

The diagnosis couldn't be clearer: I'm allergic to Monday in Cube City.

Involve Me When It's Too Late

There are times that a person's manager in Cube City is worthless beyond words. I've observed some pretty moronic management behavior over the years. My favorite is the whole "Involve Me When It's Too Late" management style -- you know, the manager who hangs you out to dry and tells you to "figure it out." So you no longer involve your manager with your pitiful requests for mentorship and growth. You go "figure it out" and march blindly forward. You have no idea what you're doing.

But somehow, you do figure it out. You get some resources, you get some advice and help from people who don't get paid to be your manager or mentor, and you develop a game plan. Then you put the game plan into place.

It is at this time, when the work is done and you're about to change the world by rolling it out, that your manager pops back into your life like a forgotten magic trick. And *poof!* Your work magically disappears as part of your manager's act. This either means that your work was really good, to the point of threatening your manager, or really bad...as it should be...because you didn't know what the hell you were doing.

I don't understand people who want to have no involvement in something until they see the finished product, at which time they rip it apart and suddenly have a great deal to think and say about it. Where were they in the beginning? Why wouldn't they help when you needed them? Why do they ignore you when you need help, and bother you when you don't? I don't know. I suppose I should just try to "figure it out."

No Invitation to Dance

The client is in Cube City for a visit, but I won't be meeting the people I've been working with by phone for the past year and a half. I won't be involved in planning meetings. I won't be included in company-paid lunches or dinners. I won't get to know these people over a beer or two at a company-sponsored "team building" happy hour. No. I'm just the lowly writer who sweats out the work while smiling and nodding through the criticism, contradictory feedback, and a paltry lunch of PB&J and water.

The thing is, I feel like I should want to meet the client. But the thought of meeting the client makes me feel a sense of doom and gloom. I guess I just want to be invited to the dance. But I don't really want to dance with these people. They have two left feet, they can't lead, and they don't know the steps. They'd just tumble over me and turn the whole thing into a roller derby, and I'm not interested in skating around these punks.

Double Monday

I'm back, mostly because I'm in a horrible mood and figured I could spew it all out here and feel better. Here goes.

I took Monday off from Cube City. I came to work on Tuesday, dreading it all the way. To make matters worse, I ran into a guy in the kitchen who said, "Hey, how was your day off? Feel rested? Hope so, 'cuz it's like a double Monday for you!"

While it's true that taking time off from Cube City means you're going to be severely punished for it, I didn't need a reminder.  I did have a double Monday, but I survived it.

And now it's Wednesday. Suddenly, I feel better -- partly for blogging, but mostly for the fact that the week is half over and my double Monday feels more like a Tuesday so that today can feel like a Wednesday.