Revolting Door

In the past five days I missed a day and a half from work. And when I say work, I mean %*&w$#@o!@r#$$%k^&#$*. I had fever when I missed half day on Friday and wasn’t allowed to work from home even though it was completely possible given that all I needed for that project was internet and excel. I did send two of my coworkers/bosses this wonderful link and then left and then skipped Monday’s work too because it was the first day without fever after four full days of fever and I felt still weak.  I realize that sending out that link was probably not a very smart move on my side. However, it’s done, and that’s what I think, so there. My bosses still don’t know that I’ll be skipping another whole two hours (oh my!) of a day because of a job networking event. Then another hour of a day to catch a plane, and then *two more whole days*. For which I don’t really have an excuse. Besides “I’m human” and “look at my face, my skin, my hair, the ghostly circles around my eyes, oh have you heard me cough lately, let me cough here for you a little bit”. Or maybe “take a glimpse inside my mind - you’ll send me on vacation AND pay for it”.

The following is an excerpt from a paper on copywriting and advertising by Arthur Kover:

“The copywriters perceived viewers as drawn, humiliated by the defeats of the day, almost paralyzed with fatigue. Viewers, living in a grim world, deprived of much joy or meaning, longed for the surcease offered by television, for the passive numbness of viewing.”

This was in 1995 and it seems that in thirteen years things have not only not changed, but have gotten worse. If this is the reality, I’m wondering how people are still functioning, what keeps them moving.

Last summer I prepared myself mentally for an upcoming long and painfully cold winter. So far I’ve been schmoozing off of that accrued supply of strength and willpower. I see it as a small bottle patiently filled with sweet yummy walnut liquor over the summer which is given as a medicine in small portions to the sufferer during winter. I haven’t had so many zits on my face at once in years - I have eleven on one side, eight on the other, two or three on the forehead and chin, two or three on the neck, and a few on my back, and I am generally a non-zit person. I won’t delve into the paleness of my skin, the deadness of my hair, the burning in my throat and the bloatedness of my head although I am enticed to throw in a few more descriptive epithets but I’ll restrain myself. Many people are having it much worse (although many are having it much better but let’s not dwell on the negative shall we) and a good question Tyler recently raised is how do homeless people survive in this weather? I found this article which not only raises the same question but also raises other questions such as who were these people before they became homeless, and who will they be after that.

Last summer, when I started accruing that bottle of walnut liquor, I also read an article about the insane coldness of this city, but that article was also soothing, talking about how people keep being nice to each other because “they’re all in this together”. Let me tell you that there is no such thing. Most people in social spaces are trying and accomplishing the hard task of keeping their cool. But many… oh many you can see the rage boiling in their eyes as I accidentally kick the seat in front of me in the theater, the looks strangers exchange as they bump into each other as they run to catch the train. However, most people are just blank, completely numb. I was looking at the mostly well dressed crowd getting off the train this morning during rush hour – all put together very well, scarves neatly tucked around the neck, clean black boots fitting perfectly around their legs, everyone becoming one with the bags they carry, all looking down, deep in thought about something, or maybe nothing, going to their dull little jobs. Is it the winter or is it the stress? Maybe if we all weren’t so stressed out we would be nicer to each other despite of the weather, maybe then we would really be “in this together”.

So I’m sitting at my dull little job today, in front of the computer, nasty fluorescent lights above me definitely not helping my flu, and this woman comes in to talk to one of my nice (so far) coworkers. The woman is worked up a lot about some work issue, and she treats the secretary (me) like a slave. “Give me some paper! Thanks.” (at least she said thanks, so I said “You’re welcome”) Then, “Give me a pen!” Then she needs someone’s phone number and my coworker politely asks me to locate it in the database, at which point the worked up woman starts pushing my chair back and forth yelling “What is her phone number?!” and spells her last name so fast that even a native English speaker would have a hard time following up on her. Finally we find the phone number, and after she yells at someone on the phone for a minute, I turn to her, look at her overly powdered face, dowdy coat and chipped dark red nails, and say with a big grin “I really like the color of your nails.” At which point she takes a step back, stops talking for a second, and starts looking at her nails – the front of her hands, the back of her hand, then looks up at us “I thought it was a little daring.” The phone rings. “It is quite daring!” I say, and pick up “The BLAH-BLAH-BLAH Organization, how may I help you?”

Five minutes later she came in to apologize. I didn’t care and found the whole thing funny but she didn’t come to apologize because she sincerely felt bad about treating someone badly, she came in to apologize just so that she feels better about herself. And maybe because she didn’t want to make enemies in the organization. But I don’t know if she was that deep.

Our event seemed to be going pretty well until people started arriving at which point I grabbed a piece of paper and started noting down what the organizers could’ve done differently. The building was beautiful, good choice no doubt, so magnificent with its arched painted stained glass ceiling, soft warm light passing through, I almost felt out of the United States and back into a cathedral in Europe again. But then the stale bottled water threw me off, and as I’m sure - half of the few hundred visitors, because I know at least half of the people got water. Since there was no coffee. Which was the other thing on my list. And of course food. Which self-respecting organization would not provide food for an event starting at 1PM? They are all nice people but they are too focused on saving money, and given the wealth of the institution they work for, that shouldn’t be the case. So anyway, I am sitting at the reception table between two coworkers, three piles of name badges neatly arranged on velveted trays in front of us, handing them to incoming guests. Twenty minutes after the event starts I’m looking at the few remaining badges of no-shows, and my eyes slide across to the big sign in front of me that announces to visitors which letters of the alphabet I’m handing out, and I gasp and turn to my coworker in horror, and it now becomes clear to me why two of the caterers were looking in my direction and giggling. And this guy. And that other one…

“Check-In H-O”

I laughed and laughed and laughed and left soon after. It’s all fuss.

The other thing that struck - people’s facial expressions as they approached the table. Most of them were pissed off, or seemed angry. I know some of them must’ve been just nervous, and that I understand, but seeing self-respecting professional grown ups in a serious industry rolling their eyes made me raise both eyebrows. Only about 30% of the people approached the table with a smile. What a funny thing to observe!