Apples and burrrrrrnaners

I've recently come across Green Bean's blog, thanks to Nadine at In Blue Ink, and I found myself saying yes, yes, yes to all the questions she poses on this post. I also recommend clicking on the the link to Global Rich List. I love being inspired by other bloggers--thanks for the link, Nadine, and for motivating me to finally reserve Last Child in the Woods at my library!

This past weekend, I finally made the 20-minute walk to Menotomy Rocks Park. I've been wanting to get back there for awhile, but the chilly weather has deterred any and all efforts to do so. It was still a bit nippy Sunday, but we took the dogs out there. It's amazing to see the change from frosty white, ice-covered bare limbs to tiny green budding life in the small forest. I felt revitalized, and so glad that a small section of nature had prevailed in this inner suburb.

In the world of work, we've finally reached an agreement. I'll be working four days a week, two from home. We'll need to make up the money I'm losing as a result, but I will be happier and perhaps more motivated to sell some of my photos once again. We're slowly compressing life down to the simple lane, and as we travel, learning how to deal with the transition and the friends and family who honk and drive by, sometimes taunting our way of life. The further we inch along, the more content I feel with this life.

Food: waste not, want leftovers!

We started a monthly budget a few weeks ago. We've always paid attention to where we spend our money (you kind of have to when you essentially live paycheck-to-paycheck), but it was interesting to see how much is spent in each category relative to the next category. For the most part, what we spend money on reflects our values.

Our largest monthly expense is, by far, our rent. Our smallest monthly expense is transportation. This fits with our values, in that we're keeping gas emissions low by living practically in the city, but, as many of you know, I would prefer leaving the Boston area (so expensive!) for a more rural setting in a walkable community (Asheville, North Carolina comes to mind). In the meantime, while Hubby finishes up school, I have to stick it out. I'm not sure if it's worth moving again when our lease is up in October. If we move farther out, our rent will go down but our transportation costs will rise. Furthermore, in this area, you have to pay a non-refundable upfront fee (usually one month's rent) just to get in the apartment--in addition to the security deposit and first and last month's rent. So losing out on the $800-$1200 upfront fee is a huge factor in whether or not it's worth it to move yet again.

Coming in second in monthly expenses is our food bill. This isn't as shocking to us as it would be to most Americans (who generally pay only 13.3% of their budgets on food, nearly half of which is from restaurants). I knew we spent quite a bit on food because we buy organic and local whenever possible, but this is an area we definitely need to trim now that Fetus is in our lives. We have been cooking from scratch for several years, but we need to cook more from scratch. Hubby has started making bread and pizza dough from scratch, and although you have to wait longer to consume it, it's much better tasting and cheaper to boot. The problem with cooking everything from scratch is, of course, time. We definitely don't eat out much though. I think we've been to a restaurant maybe 8 times in the last year ... and almost every time it's been with friends or visitors.

I read this blog that inspired me to try to find ways I can save more food items when we're cooking. I still want to start composting our food scraps, but this is a good start towards reducing food waste as well.

This Forbes article describes how Americans make and spend money, differentiating between how the "top-earners" and "lowest one-fifth" spend. It follows that we're in the lowest one-fifth, spending the most on housing and food. I thought it was interesting, though, that the "top-earners" spend the second most on transportation. Maybe it's all those fancy jets polluting our airways ... Still, I assumed it would be entertainment, not transportation.

We applied for another student loan under Hubby's summer classes so we can afford this maternity leave. Hubby is still looking for a second part-time job, and I asked my work for freelance projects while I'm at home with the newborn. You gotta love America's "family values."

I entered round three of negotiations with the head honcho this week concerning post-maternity leave plans. You might remember that they offered me a managing editor promotion as a consultant (no benefits) or a full-time communications position with two days flextime (with benefits). Today, I asked for the communications position with two days from home, two days at the office, the fifth day optional but a comp day if used--with the same salary I have now.

My logic behind the salary proposal is based on their alternative: hiring a completely new communications person full-time. They can't very well say that this person has the same skills, company knowledge, training, company software programs, etc. that I do after 10 months, and I figure those skills and that knowledge are worth at least 1/5th of my current pay. I expected the negotiations to center around this figure of 1/5th, but the head honcho threw me for a loop (an illogical one at that). She basically told me they can't do that, because if I was paid my full salary working 4/5ths time, then everyone should be able to work 4/5ths time for their salary. Perhaps she misunderstood my point of their alternative (hiring, training, etc. a new employee). She actually said "increasing pay based on the skills you have from working here doesn't fly with me." I figured she just didn't want to give me the money, in which case I might just look for a new job. But then she says since it's a new position with new responsibilities, they can take a look at increasing the salary and then adjusting that figure down to 4/5ths. And then she says no fifth optional day, but "maybe we could give you some freelance work to do for that day from home." Ummm ... wouldn't that be working the three days from home, two at the office that I originally asked for? OK Sherlock.

So it's back to the waiting game while she discusses this with the other directors. I'm more than 36 weeks along, how long are we planning to wait here? The strange thing is, the company already announced to all my co-workers that I would be working in the full-time communications position, which is certainly news to me. I haven't agreed to anything yet, and seeing how unpaid my maternity leave is, I don't owe them. I don't have to come back to this company (although I really don't want to look for a job with a newborn on my hip and a breast pump in my hand, but they don't need to know that).

Maternity leave and how you can get screwed

I could really go for some cupcakes right about now. Or maybe some cinnamon buns. Mhmmm.

It's pouring rain today, much like the pouring thoughts I'm drowning in. Choices, choices. At least they're giving me options, I guess ... bright side, bright side, think bright side.

Maternity leave: they are being a bitch.

Option 1: up to 12 weeks unpaid leave with benefits. I get to send them a check for the amount normally taken out of my paycheck every other week.

Option 2: they fire me. I'm not joking. This way, they explained, I could take more than three months and collect unemployment, but I'd have to pay COBRA meanwhile for health insurance. Taking more than three months sounds attractive, but the math certainly doesn't add up (I would net about $150/month with this option ... and I would have to lie about looking for a job because my work would hire me back). They can technically get away with this because they really are eliminating my job.

The thing that pisses me off the most is that I requested and verbally was given permission for the standard three-month leave many weeks ago, and they are putting this on me now, when I'm almost 35 weeks along. I knew that technically they could do this, but I thought they'd be a little more, uh, humane about the whole process. We definitely don't have this money, and I guess we'll take out more on Hubby's student loan to get through the summer. I'm just not willing to give up those first three months with Fetus. Hubby has already begun searching for a second job (more part-time work), which will make everything more difficult since he has filled his school schedule to more than overflowing for the summer.

As for eliminating my job, they gave me two options post-maternity leave. I can either work full-time in communications with two days a week from home (I asked for three) OR I can be contracted for one year to be a managing editor, which sounds great when I write it like that -- that's a promotion, after all -- but it's without benefits on a career track I'm not too keen on (and a host of smaller issues, like a difficult supervisor).

I haven't made any decisions yet, though I've talked with two different directors trying to push other options. Looking back to the bright side, at least I only have a month or so left and then no mas admin work!

Now can somebody get me a cupcake?!

Competent enough for templates

We're all gathered at our weekly informal staff meeting this afternoon and going around the table with updates on what we're working on. A boring, infinitely unnecessary ritual that I think we all keep up for appearance's sake. Around and around we go until it's my turn, at which point I mention that among the mound of work I'm buried under, I have award certificates to do.

"Oh, you do those now?" one of the directors ask.

"Uh, yes. I've done them since I began," I reply quietly.

At which point my direct supervisor announces, "it's just a template."

Thanks for the vote of confidence. I feel very special that I can transform a template at the age of 26, thankyouverymuch. Thank God I spent all that time and money getting a college degree.

Stop taking advantage of the office admin ... please? Now!

Work has been overwhelming the past two weeks.

Following the typical office pattern, employees in various departments have gradually realized they can dump their work on the admin and s/he can't really do anything about it. I can't exactly give these tasks to anyone else, being at the bottom of the totem pole, unless there happens to be an intern or temp around. I don't want to complain too much to my supervisors about the issue, because I need to demonstrate I'm capable and efficient and can take on the world in order to move past the admin portion of my job.

You have to play the game. That's what they tell us. But do I really need to keep my mouth shut and work overtime while pregnant just to satisfy people who aren't my supervisors? I definitely believe in teamwork, but not when I'm the only one doing the work and they are getting credit for it. The decision they make to dump their work on me isn't very smart: most admins move up in my company, and rather quickly at that. Pretty soon, for all those Boomers obsessed with hierarchy, I will be "equal" to you. Might want to think again before handing me your crap on a stick.

I work behind-the-scenes to some extent, which makes it harder for higher-ups to detect when their staff is taking advantage of me. But I'm pushing forward in the communications aspect of my job to gain visibility as a true asset. I'm putting my stamp on the areas where I want to be working in a year.

Ultimately, I need to say no. These people are not authorized to give me their work, and it's presumptious and arrogant to believe they can give work to some who is not under their umbrella. It's the beginning of the wave, and I need to establish how large I will let it get before it just crashs down over me.

You don't really have to play the game. You have to figure out how to reinvent it. When this wave of overwhelming work is over, I'm going to write up a description for departmental interns -- something we don't actively recruit -- and propose that I find, select, and supervise said interns.

I will cultivate the work-life balance I want. I'm just now figuring out what I want and how to get it ... it's just taking a little longer than I expected.

A simple "good job" would do ...

A new secret shopper report came out. Most of the comments are mediocre: bathroom okay, selection okay, service okay ... save one. It describes help finding a Christmas gift as "friendly, warm, and kind. She really made me feel at home, even in a store. Wonderful!" And as with all secret shopper reports, the shopper gave a physical description of the employee, whose physical attributes match mine: same hair and eye color; same approximate weight, height, and age; same clothes; same time I was in that department.

So what does my boss do? He strolls over to R., a 55-year-old, chunky woman with short, dyed blond hair who sucks up like a champion, and says adoringly, "This must have been you."

Glancing over the report, R. looks up at him and says, "Boss, that's my day off. But thanks for the compliment!"

This isn't the first time, either.

Besides the fact that no one at work looks remotely like me, what else would he ask that for but cold-hearted meanness?

Well, that and sheer stupidity.

Food plates and the mistake stakeout

Only three more days! Not that I'm counting or anything ...

They usually take out full-timers on their last day for a business dinner, but not me. I suppose I haven't put in enough time to count, and frankly I expected that they wouldn't take me out. It's funny, though, because a group of my coworkers are taking me out anyway.

My boss has been avoiding me and searching desperately for any mistakes I might make. Today, for example, I unpacked a huge shipment. It took me all morning to finish, but I delayed lunch until 2:30 in the afternoon, so I could return and design the display. After I finished unpacking and before I went to lunch, however, I quickly stacked all of the merchandise out onto the display so it was buyable even while I was at lunch. I mentioned that I didn't design it, just stacked it, to a few people on my way out the door.

Sure enough, when I got back my coworkers were all laughing. "Boy, did you call it," they told me. The boss had come out of his hiding spot, errr office, shortly after I had left and looked around at my department.

"Oh," he told them all snootily, "I guess this is how she merchandises when she's leaving in a week."

I knew he'd do that. His favorite thing in life is to uncover mistakes, and yet I have never seen him find one. I'm way too conscientious for his schemes.

The merchandise I put out today was dinnerware with Chinese characters on it. We had a few Chinese tourists come by right before the end of my day and they were laughing hysterically.

"What?" I asked the two woman. "What does it say?"

They kept laughing and pulled out their digital cameras, shooting pictures of my display. One of the women pointed at a platter and said "Meat!" The other pointed at a bowl and said "Vegetables!"

In the end, I held up a "Food" plate and posed manically for the camera. I wonder how that'll turn out when they arrive back home. "Look at what these stupid Americans are trying to sell us! Plates that say 'food.'"

We really do sell anything.

The Two-Second Lightning Rule

In the morning meeting, His Highness read out our most recent secret shopper report.
Did we greet the customer? Yes. Did we mention specials? Yes. Were we dressed professionally? Yes. So far, so good. Did the cashier ask if you were a member? Yes.
... Any additional comments? My wife and I were delighted at the spectacular (yes, spectacular) service we received. Not only were the cashiers, Allen and his young female coworker, professional, they engaged us in a jocular and amusing conversation, making the entire trip worthwhile, entertaining, and pleasurable. Outstanding!
And while The Head Tomato read this commentary out loud, the more he read, the more I knew that "young female coworker" was me. I had been covering lunches for sales associates that day, and I remember joking with this older couple and Allen about membership. I asked if they were members, they said no, and then they said, "This membership thing must be a big deal; everyone keeps asking us that!" and I told them we reserve the red carpet for our members - we even hire fake papparizzi to run around and take their pictures as they enter our store. Everyone laughed and it was a good time.
After Big Boss finished reading the secret shopper dodah, I said, "I think that was me; I remember ringing that couple." And everyone at the meeting was silent and just looked at me like yeah, right. Of course it was you. But it really was!
Boss said, let's all congratulate Allen when he comes in ... this was the best report I've ever seen since I started here 12 years ago. We usually get a secret shopper once a month, so being the best report out of 146 others is quite an ordeal. I know, I know, my position is managerial, so I should rank that high anyway and just be happy for Allen, but hey, credit due where credit's due! I felt jipped.
I casually brought it up later by asking if Power Hungry Man could look up the transaction and see who was ringing, but he claimed he couldn't. That's BS for sure; every manager I've ever worked with can look up transactions and who rung what. That's why we have to log in every time anyway ... so they can kick our asses if something goes wrong! So now that something went right, he all of a sudden lost his ability to look up crap?
Of course this whole scenario just reinforced Assistant Power Hungry's view that I think I'm wonderful. Did I tell you that story? I was joking around my second week, turned around to Assistant Shithead and said, "I'm just so awesome!" Well, apparently he took that literally, and henceforth started rumors that I think my shit don't stink. Off subject. But I can just hear him thinking. Of course she thought it was her. She's so wonderful it had to be her. What a princess.
So back to the wonderful, glowing review of work that's mine that no one believes is mine. Following that tasty morsel of I-can't-look-up-good-things, Head Shithead says to me, oh I've been meaning to ask you: do you look up if items are coming before you ask your buyer (who is yet another one of my bosses) if we have any? Of course, I'm not stupid.
Then he says, well your buyer told my boss (General Manager or GM as the folks say) that you call her too much. Huh? I've never called that woman in my life. I don't even know her phone number! And she told the GM that I never look up SKUs first, which is more BS! Just last week I e-mailed her and said the computer says we can order more of this, we sell it very well, but we've been out for two weeks, can you please order more (all of which is HER job)? And she thanked me for noticing, complimented me, etc ... for looking up SKUs, basically.
I told my Head Shit, "Well that's odd. I always look up SKUs first and I never call her." And he nodded his head in the same motion as earlier this morning: sure you do. I don't believe a word you're saying. He paused in the nod, and said, "You shouldn't be so defensive." Well shouldn't I be defending myself if I didn't do that?? Of course I kept my trap shut.
Immediately after he walks away, a customer service associate comes over and says my buyer's on the phone. Yeah, SHE called ME. And guess what the first thing out of her mouth was? "Wow, it's been a long time since we last spoke."
"Yeah, it has," I replied. ?! I looked around with my mouth in shock mode. Isn't there a two-second lightning rule somewhere?

Name that Life

Got to work nearly an hour early today. I took a different bus/subway combo than usual because of some construction, but obviously I overestimated the amount of time it would take. So I sat outside - Boston had beautiful weather today, finally! - and sketched a bit. Some of those pesky little red spiders crawled around on me and I ended up with sunburnt shoulders, but it was nice to have some down-time. As usual, though, it got me in the art-mode rather than the retail-mode, so I spent more time than I should have flipping through books on knitting and sewing.
Closed the store today while the other managers counted the drawers ... it is ridiculous how poorly most people perform when no one's watching. The general manager'll be in first thing tomorrow morning, so the store had to be perfect for Her Majesty's arrival. I had six associates straightening, plus myself, and after they left, we found about 8 displays that were just wrecked. (Note to shoppers: please, if you can't put it back where it belongs, don't make up a spot for it! Give it to the cashier and apologize!)
I wonder if that's a retail thing, employees needing babysitters, but I have a hunch it's not. Retail might have more of those employees, though, because sales associates are hired with a fairly low amount of required skills and education. You'd be surprised at how many sales associates, servers, and night supervisors are college grads, writers/artists/musicians/creators, second job-ers ... it becomes a melting pot of creativity and underemployment more often than not. I think that's part of the reason it's so frustrating when the customers assume you're an idiot.
Thinking about posting pictures of people and having readers submit short descriptions of what they imagine their lives to be like ... interaction and imagination, yummy!

The Raging Teapot

I'm beginning to wonder if retail does this to people, or if this is a normal workplace issue.

Today was pretty busy at work and I had a list of things that needed to be done before The Big Boss came in at 5. I asked Kathy, a friendly and seemingly harmless customer service associate, to polish the silver teapot set if she had time.

"Sure, no problem, I'll do them one at a time in between customers," she told me.

I smiled, thanked her, assured her it wasn't a problem if she couldn't find the time to complete the favor, and whirled around to finish the list of 99 red balloons, er tasks, that must be done lest The Head Honcho give me that horrific I-can-see-the-dust look.

Two hours prior to the arrival of said Store VIP, Vicki, a yoga-fanatic who smiles better than she listens, is sent to replace Kathy at customer service. Seeing that the teapot still has a devastating sliver of tarnish on its expensive-ass body, I ask her to polish it if she has time.

"No problem; where's the polish though?" Vicki asks, pausing in her breathing to reflect upon her breath.

"Oh, just ask Kathy," I said, apparently naively, and turn back to my oh-so-demanding managerial duties.

Five customers and minutes later, Vicki arrives full-force at the front counter and it's obvious from her wrinkled brow that she hasn't been concentrating enough on her ohmming.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, I asked Kathy about the polish ..." she says, trailing off.

"Yeah?"

"Um well, based on what she said, I didn't do it," Vicki answered, avoiding my eyes a bit.

"Why? What'd she say?"

"Well she kind of went off on me. I mean, she was ... here, come 'ere," Vicki said, dropping her voice while simultaneously raising her eyes to mine. "I asked her where the polish was, and she just went off. She said ... (pause to smile at customer passing by) ... 'I'm not doing the damn silver! How can she tell me what to do when she's only worked here a month and I've been here for a hundred years!' ... So I kind of just left."

At this point, things like I asked nicely, why do people make such a fuss over such small matters, and oh yeah I'm in a supervisory position anyway popped into my head, but of course, being myself by default, I was hurt. Why would someone think I would disrespect their tenure with the company? What did I do that would make her interpret my actions as coming from a sour place? Certainly Vicki's response helped, in some sense: "It's okay. Just breathe."

It all ended with me dashing around to perform a life-altering ten-minute cleansing of tarnish followed by The King Himself arriving to announce that he noticed I had moved some coffee mugs and this dramatic change had his ever-strived-for stamp of approval (a.k.a. a nod).

Let's gain some perspective here, people: Teapots will not tear the house down.