Monday, September 08, 2008
A normal Monday at my contract job.
My newly hired HR Specialist is questioning her sanity after one week in the job.
"I am buried," she told me today. We're both buried. Her desk was strewn with paperwork and files. She was trying to pull all of it together into some sort of order. She told me that she had never seen anything quite like this.
Welcome to the Heroic Work World.
"I know exactly how you feel," I said. I see two things. The first is that two people in the department means twice the paperwork flow. The second is that I quickly becoming unpopular with the natives in finance. I am not doing Lawrence of Arabia very well. This is a badly taped VHS replay of Borland back in 1991-1992 where the HR culture spat me out and stomped me. I promised myself that I would never stay in a poisonous environment again and yet here I am, because of promised and commitments I made, staying.
The tail wags the dog in this place.
I had warned my boss that I was a bad fit when he was convincing me that I should stay. I remember saying to him that he would come to regret this. Soon he will. I am already becoming a liability to him. I would fire me. Culturally I am not a fit.
We're going to square off on Tuesday and talk about this. I am quickly arriving at the realization that everyone is trying to keep me in place because it is convenient for them. I am not really in the equation. It is Pork Chop Hill and the Alamo all in one. I am going to have to resolve this myself for my best interest.
The government buyout of Ginnie Mae and Fannie Mae crushed $50,000 dollars that Sue and I had invested in that area. Due to the job stress, I had taken my eye off the investment ball (so to speak). $50,000 is now $6,000.