Wednesday, November 25, 2009

"Ooo, he smells my dog!"

I look at this rug every day. Being an artistic and creative bunch, we have examples of our work all over the office, plus some of these random and eclectic pieces.

I have no issues with artwork in the office space. It adds flare and breaks up the doldrums of work by having something aesthetically pleasing to compliment our interior design.

That being said, I'm an HR manager, and I see liability in everything. I see potential hazards, potential lawsuits, potential anythings in every action taken or not taken. It's the hazard of my profession.

So far, for the past two years, no one has said "boo" in regards to this rug. Actually, until last spring, I never really noticed the content of this rug, myself. Then all of a sudden, BAM! it hit me square between the eyes.

Ugh! Now, being an artist myself, I personally could care less of the subject of most pieces. There's really not too much that disgusts me or offends me. I may get a little embarrassed depending on the company I'm with, but life's life. Get over it. What gets my goat is when a piece of art is displayed in an area it really shouldn't, such as an unnutered dog's rear end in an office that produces text books for children.

Are we overcompensating for something? Maybe marking our territory? Hmmm.

Yankee Doodle Dandy,

Thursday, November 5, 2009

TMI, but I can't help myself

Yeah, y'all know what this is: Those .0001 mm pieces of "safety" between your ass and a public toilet seat.

Whether it actually works or not, I can't say, but your damn straight I use them if they're in the stall. I feel guilty when I use up a lot of TP to cover the seat cover, but that doesn't stop me. These just seem more environmentally responsible. Always good to be green while on the crapper.

Sorry for the gratuitous shoe scene, but they are pretty hot, huh? No, they are NOT chucks. I have nothing against chucks, it's just these were pink, on sale, and had side pockets on the heel. They're Levi's.

Hey, it also looks like my work stalls are on the extreme set up for those "special" weeks. Check it: TWO sanitary disposals.

Yeah, yeah, moving on. What gets my goat? Those three perforations you have to deal with before you can finally get some relief and relieve yourself.

Those three little perforations set me up for a complete panic attack because I can't quite wait. Usually if I'm in a public situation, it's pretty drastic and I'VE GOT TO GO! So wasting time on this is ridiculous. Plus, in your hurry you always end up ripping the tissue, rendering it useless, and having to start all over again, all while turtle heads are a-poking.

TMI? Sure. Have we all succumbed to this? You bet your butt!

Yankee Doodle Dandy,

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Loss of Innocence

Ya know what gets my goat?

I've been working for my current company for seven and a half years. "I've learned a lot" doesn't even begin to truly express the knowledge I've gathered while "doing my time."

Lessons I've learned at my current place of employment:
  • How to lay off your own boss while you've only known them for one year.
  • How to investigate sexual harassment accusations involving your friends.
  • How to fire an employee in which you actually fear physical harm.
  • How to deal with an upper level manager that actually screams at you in front of other employees and accuses you of things that are actually technologically impossible.
  • How to layoff your friends and co-workers in dire economic times.
  • How to deal with grown adults having jumping-up-and-down hissy fits at you and your subordinate, cursing the F-bomb at you because you caught them in insurance fraud.
  • Taking on the jobs of four people and not getting paid for it while others are getting incredible raises with threats of quitting.
  • Listening to high level peers in the industry gossip and bad mouth people I consider friends.
  • Realizing that the world really does revolve around the all mighty dollar, and although we produce items that teach the youth and future of America, it really only comes down to politics and profits.
It's not in my nature to threaten to quit if I don't get what I want. I don't go out looking for another job unless I'm meaning to take it. I've made a promise to a company, and my boss, and my co-workers, and I don't take that lightly, even though my company's actions (or lack thereof) show otherwise toward me. I'm sticking this out, probably to the bitter end, but I don't like it. The lessons I've learned here have jaded me into an excessively cynical and untrusting person and that's not the lessons I want to pass on to my child(ren). (However, I don't want them to be excessively naive liberal weenies, either.)

Every experience in life is a learning experience, a right of passage, if you will, into another phase of your life. They aren't always great, warm-and-fuzzy lessons, but you need them to mold you into (hopefully) a compassionate, caring, and not-so-naive member of society. What gets my goat is I had to "grow up," and I don't like it. Not one bit. These past seven and a half years have been difficult and tenuous. I put up with it because of loyalty and rent.

So, who the hell cares, right? Welcome to the party. It's about time you showed up.

Yankee Doodle Dandy,