Buzz Off

How predictable. Just when there is a light at the end of the tunnel, the gnats start to swarm and nip the eyes. Waving them off doesn't work, and bug spray will sting the eyes. There is no repellent, no cure. Just keep marching ahead until I reach utopia – or collapse.

These past two weeks have been brutal. I can't recall when I last worked so many evenings to keep up. Plus, I'm now readying for four days of PTO away from this place, where the quiet ding of new mail won't be heard for miles. I won't even care if the weather is crummy; I just don't want to be here for awhile.

There were only two short meetings booked today, so I arrived ready to tackle the big pile of crap on my desk, expense reports and all. I could see Wednesday glowing in the distance. Ah. I planned to get some light laundry and packing done tonight; perhaps stop by for a pedicure on my way home.

Oh, of course not. My day was instead consumed by people who think nothing of literally bugging me with tiny-yet-time-consuming requests. And my desk is still buried.

I usually can handle over-the-transom requests just fine, even if I'm swamped – so long as they make a shred of sense for my team's role. I was asked today by three different coworkers (as in, "we work for the same company, but I have no idea who you are") to essentially drop what I was doing and help them with projects so far beyond my job description that, in one case, I'd have needed an advanced degree. Along with a dispirited colleague choosing to stop by every 30 minutes to nit-pick apart a major project – instead of really telling me what we all know is on her mind (lost her mojo, hates the boss, and sees no future) – and I soon find my own day has completely evaporated.

By this point, I'm no longer basking in the glow of an approaching vacation; I'm hyperventilating, pounding away on the keypad at 11 p.m. to finish up a work plan, and freaking out whether I'll have to wait on the packing until the last minute. And I still have one more day to enjoy at the office before we leave.

I wonder what kind of message I'd send by draping mosquito nets over my cube. Gnats!

I'm not going to have anything nice to say about this place when I get back!  – Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984)

Office Space

I just realized that a permanent marker, cap removed, has been sitting on my desk for the past hour. No wonder I have a headache.

It sucks to sit inside after hours, watching the sunset fade to black from my cube. I have paperwork due tomorrow to the powers-that-be, which I couldn't even touch during the seven hours of meetings I sat through today (only two of them were even necessary). Could I have done it sooner, and not put off until the last minute? Sure, if I'd had a clone to sit in conference rooms with a spaced-out expression on my behalf.

I can't decide if it's the economy, the unpredictable semi-summer weather, the constant handholding of confused colleagues, the never-ending meetings and Brett Favre non-news coverage, or the simple lack of resources to get everything done that has me in a foul mood. I know it's really a lethal combination, making work a complete drag lately. I'm crabby, tired of being asked a million things of coworkers who say "no" before I can ask for help in return, silently cursing the Packers fans lipping off around here before the preseason really kicks in. I want to go home and watch TV – or spend the day at the salon and worry more about my nails than a quarterly update. To hell with everyone!

We'll see if I can pencil it in for later this month.

I'd say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work.  – Office Space (1999)

Poser at the Bat

I like recessions. Not for the social havoc they wreak, of course, but for the healthy correction they afford us to take. They allow us (or force us) to slow down, step back, look around, make sure we have all the right pieces in place to keep moving forward, and consider investments in areas where they're needed. (Key word: needed.)

But if there is one thing that a recession will also show you, it's the number of people at work who can't strategize themselves out of a Coach purse, much less tell if it's a knock-off. It zaps all of my joy in these times, and makes it damn-near impossible to get traction on the good stuff.

Money can't buy happiness, but it sure makes it easy for people to pretend to be something they're not - especially middle managers. When times are good, the profits aren't bad, the budgets are fat, and the success seems without bounds, we all look brilliant, don't we? We cash in those meaty bonuses on that A4 lease and drench ourselves in second-tier Tiffany silver. We've arrived!

Then, companies get drunk on the success, mistakes are made, geopolitical forces and macro tides shift. The stock starts to level out, even dip a bit, and we cinch in our belts. Suddenly, a severe case of "meetingitis" strikes, and a dozen are standing on the calendar each week.

The common sense in these meetings drops to record lows, the table surrounded by mid-managers frozen by the fear that budgets will be cut more (count on it). The façade fades away, and they're exposed, realizing they might actually have to think hard, work with less, and navigate tougher times to keep things running smoothly. Oh, crap.

I always like to think that the business case can help anyone focus and get excited, even with the pinch. (Well, not everyone; Ms. Peter Principle is still, amazingly, on the payroll.) So I try this card at every meeting, and wind up disappointed in someone who I thought was a little smarter than she really is. Perhaps that's harsh, but I expect people to see a connection between what they do and at least one strategic priority, and I usually get fed up after hearing "I'm confused" for three straight weeks.

So there we sit, eyes wide and darting around the room. The standard answer for any request of a team's contributions is "no" - as in, "it doesn't follow our standards," or "it's not my silo's responsibility," or "we don't have budget for that." Well, no, you don't - not the limitless cash you blew through three quarters ago with nothing to show for it. The budget you paid consultants to think and talk for you is gone. We still have goals to meet that likely will require us all to roll up our sleeves and rethink our rules.

You're up. We're waiting.

Incredible! One of the worst performances of my career and they never doubted it for a second.  -- Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)

Deep Thoughts, Part Deux

And now, once again, deep thoughts. Right.

- Every speech given, anywhere, to anyone winds up on YouTube anyway. So where does this backroom expert on the latest business whizbang get off charging five figures for an hour with my team?

- From a quick scan of today's BusinessWeek main page:

        1. Fish pedicures. More than 5,000 people in the D.C. area have put feet into buckets of heel-nibbling carp for what is allegedly a more sanitary scrub of dead skin. This business model is doomed, because once some co-ed geniuses inevitably take the DIY route and dip their toes into the roommate's piranha tank, the suits will start a-flying.

        2. Headline for this week's "The Welch Way" column: "Emotional Mismanagement: Negative feelings tend to spread. But information and inspiration can work wonders." Fire that headline writer for tempting readers like me to ask Jack and Suzy how well that advice worked out a few years back in their personal lives.

        3. Debate: "Office buildings should allow smoking indoors in designated lounges. Pro or con?" Please. Start fining them for throwing their butts all over the place - because they do, whether they have a hermetically-sealed box to puff in or not.

- Why, in the age of Google, can't some people at work take the initiative and find the answers themselves, instead of pestering me all day with messages?

- If you're too busy to know what's going on with your own team, do you have the right to demand personal updates that slow the rest of us down? Apparently.

- If a former colleague from 10 years ago was your nemesis, but you know how to get her to work like mad, is it wrong to suggest hiring her? Of course. But it's fun to think about it.

- Classic: Companies beat the past quarter's expectations, then get pummeled for guidance, usually couched in reality, by those who have a vested interest in that reality - but live in a land far, far away. Can't wait for the next call.

Many people don't realize that playing dead can help not only with bears, but also at important business meetings.  - Jack Handey

Lost in Translation

Oh, fine. I slipped into jargon mode in a recent post.

I'll admit it – I was flying high on large doses of business review meetings that week. Take a wild guess what we were talking about.

For those of you intellectually dulled by the gobbledygook, allow me to recap the highlights:

1. People who wave Milton Friedman-isms around at work need to think before they open their mouths.

2. People spend waaaaay too much time talking about strategy, then sit on their thumbs until someone (unhappy customer, angry public mob, dissed employee) lights a fire under the company's derrière.

3. We are sorely lacking leaders who can find the economic value that comes from more responsible business practices. Just look at their interpersonal skills.

4. Why does every good corporate deed warrant a marketing campaign?  No greenwashing the business, please. Just shut off the lights and computer before you leave the office, OK?

5. Oh, never mind. The SEC will eventually regulate it, anyway, so let's just wait for the shareholders to ask for it. As you were.

Separately, I received a yawning complaint over a different post, informing me that this tripe can be read anywhere. Note to reader:

Point taken, though I think you're an empire-builder who now suspects I'm that annoying colleague who stands between you and greatness.

Chelios with the slapshot... that's a hockey term. -– Dan Patrick, Sportscenter.