Ask Me Anything

What did you have for breakfast?
How does the rain make you feel?…

This poem is about how totally separate emotions can feel identical inside your body, and how hard that can be to deal with.

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Go review yourself

On Brett’s blog this week, he wrote about performance review time at work, and it cracked me up so much that I had to share it with some of my coworkers, all of whom feel his pain. Like Santa, the review fairy has ways to know whether you’ve been naughty or nice. One of the ways is called “The Self Review”. It sounds important but really all it is is a way to take your balls and put them in a vice and give you the opportunity to tighten the screws. See, I told you she was magnanimous. Three things can happen with self-reviews and like throwing a pass in the NFL, two of them are bad. Those two things are you’re honest and you tell your overlords about all the internet you surf at work which then results in you getting a bad review or you totally oversell yourself and the overlords figure that you’re a self-promoting prick with an agenda. In the end, it shouldn’t be my damn job to review myself. They are bloody well paying my boss to know what I do every day (trust me, he drops by enough that he should). The Self Review is a ridiculous piece of HR double-speak so that the Man can find new ways to screw you…. (click here to read the rest, it’s worth it) And I responded: We have to do something similar, except we rate ourselves on ten dimensions (called The Expectations) – things like “Manages Conflict Effectively”, “Handles Problem-Solving Wisely,” and “Builds Trust,” and write paragraphs on how we’ve performed up to scratch. We are required to utilize ridiculous patronizing language (called The Rating Levels) to do it too. For instance, instead of Excellent, Good, Fair, Poor, we have to say Excelling, Learning, Doing, Absent. […]

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i’m not sure i’ve complained enough lately…

…. so let me complain some more. I have thrown out my back again. Goddammit. I don’t know why they say “thrown out.” In fact, I hesitate to use that phrase when I’m telling people why I’m walking funny with tears in my eyes and a pained look on my face. “Thrown out” sounds so active, so agressive. It was appropriate the time that I was pitching fastballs in the World Series (that’s baseball, right?), and OOPS! I threw out my back. Or the time that I had to dash out onto a highway to save 5 year old twins AND their twin kittens from being squashed flat by traffic, and I threw out my back in the process but didn’t notice until later because I was too busy saving lives and what with the dashing between cars and all. So anyhow. This time, “thrown out” doesn’t fit. And it’s not a cramp, or a sprain. “Muscle spasm” is actually quite accurate but it sounds so… I don’t know. Almost dirty somehow. The truth is, I felt a strange *twinge* in my mid-back, right side, as I was ROLLING THE TRASH CART OUT to the street this morning (quite a sexy and adventurous way to be injured, eh?). And it’s not like it was full of heavy things like bowling balls or tree branches or severed alien heads; in fact, it didn’t have anything in it besides a bag of cat poop (3 cats, 2 day’s worth, to be exact) (maybe they’re alien cats). I stretched a little bit before getting into the car, to ward off the possibility of it turning into something worse, but I guess it was going to happen no matter what. By noon I was in pretty severe pain and left work at the insistence […]

Read Morei’m not sure i’ve complained enough lately…

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