Oh. My. God.

Welcome to a new ongoing feature in this blog that I'd like to call "My Old Boss is an @sshole." Don't get me wrong - she's a nice woman and I like her. I liked working with her. And, I genuinely respect her. But sometimes she makes me NUTS.

My stupid computer died... crashed so hard that the guy at the computer store actually felt sorry for me. All data is gone, until I'm ready to pay a fortune to see what can be retrieved. Every photo I have of Tater Tot, Halloween Parties, my cats, funny stories from Beantown, my old work archives, the resume I've been updating... all gone.

I was really freaked out. And, in the midst of it all, Dr. Boy and I had a KNOCKDOWN right after this happened. Easily our worst fight ever. We both went to bed thinking we'd broken up.
So, I emailed the Boss and the Assistant to let them know they wouldn't be able to reach me, and all my work to Wrap Up This Job is GONE. And, then I flop into my self-imposed, I-hate-my-stupid-boyfriend exile on the aerobed in the living room under my new gur-juss Cath Kidston comforter and try to sleep. Visions of lost data dancing in my head.



Ugly, yes, but it matches the Ugly Wall. On sale bien sure, because they closed the NYC store.

This morning, my phone rings at 9:24 a.m. It's the Boss. The call is maybe 2 minutes of good morning, sympathy, and accusation. I was stunned. For some crazy reason, she is convinced that I have fried my work computer. You know, the one for the job that I don't have. The one I turned in last Friday. As requested. Then, I check my email. An hour earlier, she mailed me this:


Is this the [office] laptop? I thought you had returned that as we had agreed????

No, hello. No, I'm sorry. Several of my coworkers don't want me to list her as a reference. They think she's unstable. But, she's well-known, she was my Boss. How could I not list her? She's fired people and given them glowing references. But... this is the 3rd time this week that she has forgotten something huge and assumed the worst about me. I don't know if I should talk to her, or just be done with her... she hates confrontation, and she has been so strange since this all went down.


I don't know what to do.

Things are better today with Dr. Boy, but still v. tense. Still, he took me to Best Buy, and I bought my new zippy computer for $450. Made my freakin' day. And, I had a great meeting with a headhunter yesterday. Feel really good about the job market. Until, I realized this morning that my reference is nuts. Oh, god... what to do?


For now, I'm going to focus on my new computer, which I love. My friend EKK's new baby girl (congrats!) who was born today. And, my new, totally impractical, red glitter, on sale for $25 shoes.





XOXO,

M

Done Moping

This morning, I'm starting to feel like my pre-office, pre-NYC self. Which is good. Glad to be back, and I have lots to do.

First thing - frustration with the Boss. She told me they would forward my email to my assistant starting last Friday. And, as of last night, I was still getting emails from the assistant to that address with work questions. So, I emailed the Boss and got a snotty response asking for my password so that someone else can forward my emails. a) I can forward my emails, and did, and b) she has administrator access to the accounts just like I did and could have just looked it up. The coup de grace? She emailed me at that email address to thank me. Ay carumba.

I have decided to spend more time on writing here, and less time putzing. So, more on that later. But, for now, here's a photo to let you know what my everyday life is like in NYC. I heard a strange thunking-clinking in the next room, and this is what I found.

The getting caught:

And, the great escape:

XOXO, M

Gettin' Laid

As in "off." I'm being laid off. How freaking weird is that?!?! It all started to hit about a month ago, and it will go on for about another month. But, after nearly a year of asking for direction and pointing out that they weren't letting me do what I was hired to do, the Powers That Be came to the conclusion that they want to go with an Events model instead of Other Fundraising. And, needless to say, I don't ever want to do another event with this organization. The anti-sugar thing was a huge hit BTW, but for the first time, I didn't feel great when it was over. Just felt dread that we were already working on the next one.

So, Sayonara and a severance package. I'm working from home for a bit, and trying to shake the fact that I was the person who told Board members about my departure and the new strategy. Shouldn't the Boss have done that? Should something as big as a change in strategy come as a surprise in a farewell call? I have seen some strange things in this job, but the last week really took the no-sugar cake. It was biz-zah.

I've been laid off before, and I am not someone who handles a lack of employment well. I tend to fall into a pool of deep dispair for no good reason. Even now, I should be working on stuff for the office, or I should be cleaning my house, and I should be posting my resume. Instead I'm fantasizing about grocery shopping for my new grill pan. On the couch. In my PJs. Not good - time for a shower and a to do list.

There have been a lot of things I've liked about this job, and many, many, many that made me very nervous. But, for now I want to list my top 5 moments of clarity. I realize that they are only funny to me.

1. Total cost of renting a giraffe for your party in Manhattan = $15,000
2. I must work with other fundraisers, and never to talk to lawyers, auditors and accountants again.
3. Business Peppy is a way of life.
4. I am a manipulative person and that's the business that I'm in. Time to get over the Baptist guilt and accept that.
5. I am not crazy. And people who nap on the floor of an office need more oversight.

Off to shower and pack away the detritus of my office clean out. Officially, I'm still there for another month. To celebrate, the office decided to take me out for BBQ and margaritas and not invite the Boss. I am the only one who feels weird about this.

XOXO, M

Still not as bad as a day working for Cruella

Thank you to everyone has sent me emails this week. I miss you all so much - you just make me laugh out loud! I have to say I'm SORRY that I haven't gotten back to you. Sigh - this is exactly my problem. I'm now terrible at follow through. So, here's why.

If you've spent time with me and Dr. Boy, you've probably seen us "fight." Everyone tells me that we fight all the time, but it's just not true. We disagree all the time, but we're hardly ever really angry. You may not realize it, but I hate to fight more than almost anything else. Yelling, and public anger are mortifying for me when they happen to other people. And I don't tolerate them well when they happen to me (LOL! Somewhere, my exes are in a dead faint. Ready for another? I don't really drink anymore. My 3 drink suggestion has become a firm 2 drink limit as of late. Well,... now no one's reading, cuz you're all dead from shock. An-ee-way...)

This morning it was raining cats and dogs. And we only had one crappy umbrella. I had bought 4 when I moved in, but they're gone, and neither one of us lost them. Uh-huh. Normally, I just go to work without an umbrella. I'm only outside for a few blocks, and it's just not worth the hassle of taking one from the doorman. But today I had a big meeting at the High Church of Fashion and I wanted to look nice.

Turns out, that was the only umbrella Dr. Boy knew about, and he didn't know the doorman trick. So he was pretty pissed. We've been having some Living Together Tension this week about cleaning the apartment, and in the process of looking for an umbrella, he found one of my hidden messes.

So before I got to the office, the crappy umbrella let the rain get my favorite, freshly dry cleaned, pants and ruined 'em. And, the manicure that I got for my meeting with the Fashion Girls chipped. Leigh called to yell at me, and even my special trip to Starbucks was wrecked. Then I got to my office and got the crap kicked out of me. One Board member freaked out, one nitpicked, and then I had the meeting with the Fashion Girls in my unironed pants, chipped nails, and frizzy hair. I went from one meeting with subtext and hostility to the next meeting of outrage and emotional neediness. And through it all, I was fielding the angry call, the "don't you get it" call, the distraught call, and all the while falling on my sword to make everyone feel good. So they feel good, and I feel wrung out.

Some days I look around the 8'x9' space I share with my boss and fantasize about the job I turned down. It would have been dull, and the commute was several hours, and I thought, "I didn't move to NYC to buy a car and commute half the day." But I remember the spacious office, with a door, that would have been mine, and the view of the rolling lawn next to the free childcare center. Suddenly, being bored to the point of suicide doesn't seem so bad. Most days, I really enjoy the Board and the Powers That Be. And though my boss makes me frantic, I adore her. And my sweet assistant who complimented my Target raincoat on the way to the Church of High Fashion. But today I'd have traded it all for a job cleaning toilets.

I sent Dr. Boy an angry email this morning that was so completely unglued that it is laughable. And, at lunchtime, he sent me a sweet, articulate apology that was pitch perfect, and what I wanted to say to him once I calmed down. End of day, I found out that my sweet uncle has run into complications from brain surgery. First it was cancer; now the medication from surgery has led to blood clots and emergency surgery. I barely know him, but I like him a lot, and he's really important to Mom. I had so much to do at the office, but I just had to leave.

I bought Dr. Boy an umbrella as an apology, and he ordered me the dinner I wanted. And Grumpy Kitty, who normally doesn't want much to do with me, has tailed me all night to love me, and talk to me, and snuggle with me. I'm going drink a beer, watch Oprah, and go to bed. I promise to email you all soon.

XOXO, M

A spoonful of sugar....

Doesn't go over so well in the Big Apple. Seems no matter what the Powers That Be feed their own kids, they feel strongly that Other People need moral direction on what to feed their kids.

Planning a kids party for work, which will be FABULOUS. I have a great event planner, event designers, a crazy budget... should be a blast. But, it's an evening thing, and no one wants to bring home sugared up munchkins. So, I'm in sugar lock down. Much more aggressive than anything I'd seen working in the People's Republic of Cambridge. It's like "Death to Smoochy" come to life, complete with adults in costume.

Dr. Boy thinks it's HEE-larious, but it's been keeping me up at night. How do you sell tickets to a kids party next year if this year is built on the foundation of good nutrition instead of fun? Honest to god, I've been through a box of meringue cookies and 3 or 4 strawberry shortcakes in two days. The more we restrict the menu, the more limitless my taste for sweet.

Happily, miracles have been performed, kickass talent has been booked, and compromises made, and finally, I'm at a point that I don't think anyone will notice. Or have to eat an organic, low-sugar date bar and pretend it tastes good. After a week of telling everyone I work for that I STRONGLY, but respectfully, disagree with everything they are saying, we're on the same page. For those of you playing at home, yes, I still constantly fear that today will be the day I push the wrong button and get fired. So, we've pulled it out, and I think the party will be a hit. Got great kids entertainment, zillions of plush characters, crafts, balloon artists that can do Elvis on a bicycle, and more. Phew!

But, let's get back to the issue at hand. I make my living defending the best interests of the organization. And, sometimes I think that what the Powers That Be want isn't in line with that. This week has been a reminder that no matter what I was hired to do, I get paid to do what the Powers That Be want. And, if that sinks the ship... well, it's not my ship. I can get my own ship someday, but while I work there, I'm gonna sing their sea shanties. And disagree deep down. I don't have kids, but I was raised in a low-sugar house, and now I can eat a box of meringues without blinking. Or milk. Nuff said.

Moderation. Choice. The occasional cupcake. I have to believe that these are the key to raising kids who eat responsbily for the rest of their lives. And don't grow up being nuts about food like I am. Besides... it's tacky to tell other people how to raise their kids. So, being a good Southern girl raised in the First Church of I'll Pretend You Have Manners, I'm keeping my mouth shut. But this is what I'm thinking http://tinyurl.com/ynqmxc

XOXO, M