October 29, 2014
A strange thought struck me as I poked around the internet instead of keeping on top of the work I intended to get done tonight: Have I lost my ambition?
The most enjoyable parts of my day are more and more domestic: watching the dog sleep. Having dinner prepped well in advance so I can bunk around online, recreationally or working. It’s not totally unthinkable, I’ve always enjoyed housework just as much as I do working professionally.
Granted, some part of this is because there be a critter parasitically using what energy I do have, to spare me the trouble one presumes, but for the first time in my medium-length career, I don’t have any lofty job related ambitions except to be comfortable in my role and to make good money while I rock it. I’m not the fire-eater of half a decade ago, tearing a path through the ranks and taking no prisoners (except for the inevitable scheming backstabbing bastards, I’ve got your names and someday karma will kick your asses).
Occasionally, and this is more frequent when there’s a thousand conversations about side hustles everywhere on twitter and in the PF blogosphere, I’m motivated to think about getting off my moderately well paid duff and doing something more than just the usual investing and saving. After all, if I intend to be a multimillionaire before I’m either 40 or broken, whichever comes sooner, there isn’t that much time to be wasted!
But this year feels less like a growing and conquering year than any other. Maybe I have lost my fire. Perhaps this is the fallow season in preparation for the next push.
Or maybe I’m just riding out a wave of boredom that will crest in new ideas and new projects. I could use an interesting new project around here.
***
After some reflection I realized what this really is.
I’m harboring some resentment over a financial agreement that was reneged upon at work as a direct result of Little Bean.
I won’t get into the nitty gritty at the moment but to summarize: the principle of having had an agreement, and then being penalized specifically because of the time I’ll need to take off for LB makes me reconsider my commitment to a workplace that I otherwise love. It reminds me of all the times I’ve had to fight tooth and claw to be paid what I’m worth, and all the times I’ve had to compromise or put up with horrible people and harassment for the sake of the work experience and paving the way to a better next step.
October 15, 2014
I was doing some back end blog work, going through old drafts and deleting them to clear out the archives etc, when I ran across an old memory that had me shaking my head all over again.
*****
After a colleague snooped on my phone and read my blog emails, I’d changed this blog URL and name to prevent her from finding the content. In the process, I also removed all posts that talked about work in any detail, and this was one of them (excerpts from what feels like a lifetime ago):
I work for the world’s least professional office.
I sat down and had a nerve-wracking chat with my bosses yesterday … It’s come to my attention that while I’ve been fussing about not making enough money, I really needed to bite the bullet as my poorness was really hitting me hard, psychologically.
No, I’ve never had to go hungry. But Ma always counts her pennies because it’s such a burden on me taking care of all their bills, and for some reason, that makes me feel like I’m just not doing well enough. So, take a dash of knowing that I’m absolutely responsible (it’s a cultural thing) for their uncertain futures, especially if they never manage to earn a living wage again, add three spoons of my own stress to knowing that despite all my work I’ve not secured any sort of future for them or myself when I’m ready to get married, and I’m constantly one foot over the abyss.
I racked my brains on the most polite, professional approach and borrowed heavily from Madame X’s article on how to ask for a hefty raise based on your merit and excellent performance reviews.
For many reasons, the worst of which was that I felt if I deserved it they would have already given me my raise, I didn’t want to ask. [Ed Note: I never felt this way again.] I didn’t want to admit that I needed it. I didn’t want to admit that I was struggling even with the overtime, and I really didn’t want to admit that I didn’t want to work so dang hard just to make ends meet! No matter how true it was, I wanted (needed) this raise because I really truly deserved it, not because I was struggling with home life.
I said (almost whispered, honestly) that as much as I have wanted to stay here and continue learning and growing as an employee of this office, I had reasons to need to prioritize my salary and no longer had the luxury of choosing to trade the lower salary for the current work environment (which is the best it’s ever been.) I mentioned that I’d looked up average salary ranges for offices of our size, in our area, and with fewer responsibilities and that it was significantly higher than mine. While I didn’t expect them to meet it (as it would be doubling my salary) that’s still a huge discrepancy in what I’m sacrificing in basic salary. I left it at that because I didn’t want to admit how much the sacrifice of a higher salary was hurting me personally and professionally. I also did make it clear that leaving (right now) is the last thing I want to do (because it would be a pretty stupid move to lose my health insurance and income when I have a small e-fund and so much stress and demand at home.)
I wanted this to be a professional plea, not a personal one. After all, in what employer’s mind does your rent or bills play a role in determining your salary?
Mine, as it turns out.
The boss wanted to know what the REAL reason was for this. He said that if I were happy in this environment why was I looking? Unless I was looking for a reason to jump ship, or else it had to be pressures at home that prompted this. He demanded to know the truth behind the matter, he feels like I’m too private which he hates because he wants this to be a family environment. If I have a need, I have to come right out and tell them what’s bothering me rather than hiding it.
Never mind that this is a place of business, not my personal therapist’s office… Since I didn’t want this to be a complete disaster I had to ‘fess up to the fact that yes, I’m experiencing a great deal of pressure at home and although I’ve been trying really hard to make it work, I’ve been fighting a losing battle for years.
Only in MY office does the illogical, personal crybaby approach work best. How am I supposed to learn good professional habits here??
Years later, I’m still shaking my head over that laughably bad recollection.
In that place, without a regular, formal evaluation process, there was no clear mechanism to ask for raises. That wasn’t my first job but it was the first non-retail job; asking for a raise in a unprofessional professional environment was that much more stressful.
Color me ever so grateful that I’m well out of a place where emotion trumps logic and professionalism. I was young and naive, that’s for darn sure, but even then I recognized that whole situation stank.
I’ve had my fair share of experience with terrible workplaces and bad managers over the years but this particular chapter was special. And, as is so often the case, this is only one of the many incidents (spanning sexual harassment, employment discrimination, verbal abusive and unacceptable in the workplace behaviors) that I either experienced or witnessed with terrible people. But this is one that directly pertains to money. 😉
After several years of freedom, it’s easy to look back and laugh at just how awful they were as colleagues and as people; in fact, it was huge motivation not just to get the hell out of there but to grow my career so I’d never be so dependent on or forced to stay in close proximity to awful people again.
:: I know I’m not the only one with a horror story or two, what’s your best/worst?
February 26, 2012
It’s been a heck of a week. Not terrible but tiring. I finally caught up with my dad and found out that there have been multiple deaths in the family. It’s maybe a good thing that I didn’t know about them in time to attend the services as I would have felt obligated to attend. Instead, I’ve been focusing getting things done at home and exercising myself and Doggle.
Kind of overdid it though, between being emotionally overwrought thinking about Mom and seeking catharsis through cleaning. My hands and arms don’t appreciate the outlets that my brain seeks, which is really frustrating as physical activity is so good for the brain.
Posts for Perusal
Little Miss Moneybags and Peanut got their Life Insurance in order. PiC and I organized our life insurance along similar lines, though we will likely be having more conversations to get aligned as things change. At the time we sorted our insurance, he was well able to take care of any financial needs without my income. Without me, he would likely still work in this town and stay in this home. He would need some assistance for sorting things and Doggle, so I still carry insurance through work but both he and my dad would be beneficiaries of my life insurance because I don’t want him to be financially responsible for Dad’s healthcare and continuing care. (I still have to set up a trust for that.) If he’s gone, I couldn’t carry the costs for myself, this home and my Dad however long I had to support him, so I would need a fair amount of extra income from his insurance.
Eemusings on the Cost of Convenience: I’m pretty sure that I’m close to the same as eemusings. I hate spending money on convenience items like snacks when they’re not part of the grocery shop. But I will buy things as part of the shopping trip like chips, nuts, frozen foods for reheating on those nights when we don’t want or don’t have time to cook a full meal.
A Recipe
I have SingleMa‘s Pinterest obsession to thank for this one. She pinned this Crispy Honey Lemon Chicken recipe several weeks ago and the name (of course) stuck in my mind. I rather obsessively went back to hunt for it when trying to decide what to make for dinner and made it with some alterations to the recipe to suit my lazier cooking style and general preference for baked over fried (faster clean-up).
Original:
Crispy Honey Lemon Chicken
serves 4-6
Ingredients:
4 boneless skinless chicken breasts, cut into pieces
1/4 cup olive oil + 3 tablespoons
3 tablespoons honey + more for dripping/drizzling
the juice of 2 large lemons
1 tablespoon fresh lemon zest + 2 teaspoons
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 cup all-purpose (or whole wheat) flour
2 tablespoons cornstarch
Directions:
In a bowl, combine 1/4 cup olive oil, 3 tablespoons honey, lemon juice, 1 tablespoon lemon zest, and a 1/4 teaspoon each of salt and pepper. Whisk ingredients together, then add chicken pieces to a ziplock bag and pour marinade over top. Let sit for 30 minutes – 2 hours.
When ready to make, add flour, cornstarch, 1 teaspoon lemon zest and the remaining salt and pepper to a large bowl. Mix well. Heat a large skillet on medium-high heat, and once it is very hot, add 1 tablespoons of olive oil. Coat chicken pieces in the flour mixture, then add to the skillet and cook until each side is golden brown, about 3-4 minutes per side. Remove and set chicken on a paper-towel covered plate. Cook remaining batches, adding more/less oil if needed. I used 3 tablespoons, but depending on how coated your chicken pieces are you may need a bit more.
Serve with rice and a few tablespoons of honey mixed with lemon zest for dipping.
Modified
Crispy Honey Lemon Chicken
serves 2 greedy-faces
Ingredients:
4-8 chicken drumsticks and/or thighs, bone-in
1/4 cup olive oil + 3 tablespoons
3 tablespoons honey + more for dripping/drizzling
the juice of 2 large lemons
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 cup all-purpose flour
Directions:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Cover a roasting pan with foil.
In a bowl, combine 1/4 cup olive oil, 3 tablespoons honey, lemon juice, and a 1/4 teaspoon each of salt and pepper. Whisk ingredients together, then add chicken pieces to a ziplock bag and pour marinade over top. Let sit for 30 minutes – 2 hours. (Or overnight.)
When ready to make, add flour and the remaining salt and pepper to a large bowl. Mix well. Coat chicken pieces in the flour mixture, then place pieces side by side in the roasting pan.
Bake for 20 minutes, turn, bake for another 10-15 minutes until done.
Serve with rice and roasted vegetables.
February 5, 2012
When I first reacted to the original post of that blogger, I only intended to comment. Before submitting the comment, though, sanity prevailed.
It dawned on me that no matter how well meaning or well written or persuasive, to an unhearing mind, my words would mean nothing. I had seen how little any kindly meant words were getting through to her both on PopularBlogger’s blog and on her own. And the reason I found my way there in the first place was because of the unrelenting negativity and sometimes abuse she showered on PopularBlogger’s site on him and his commenters so, even though he and I are incredibly different, I just don’t have time for her to bring that into my blog life should she follow my comment back.
So I took my comment, and some grumpitude for the rudeness and assumptions she was spewing, back here to my own blog.
I didn’t link to her because I had no intention of giving her publicity by naming her, nor did she have a clue who I was so I didn’t intend to open the door for her into my space here. Also, I think it’s rude and unprofessional, journalistically speaking, to cite someone’s words and name them without linking to them on the Internet. So I avoided identifying someone that, as it turns out, is much more well known than I expected. To be honest, I hadn’t heard from RachH and Tom before this post, evidently MW’s prodigy is more well known than I am! 😉
You know what they say, controversy sells!
In any case, I’d like to turn this to a more positive light.
After reading more comments, particularly StackingPennies’s about the fact that we don’t cashier for FUN, I started to laugh. Because you know what?
I used to. I started working at a very young age to help out but also because I thought it was fun, and as it turned out, cashiering was one of those jobs.
And that reminded me of something important about work. At least it’s important to me. There is much of the Puritan work ethic in what some of us (me included) do and say in real life and online about money and paying down debt and reaching goals that I think it’s really not easy for the average person to see that we enjoyed the work we do, took satisfaction in a job well done or had pure joy of learning. It somehow is perceived as the seemingly righteous tone of trying to reach the goal.
I never thought that most of us were self-righteous, mind, but I do understand the feeling of singlemindedness or focus which I personally take a lot of joy in. Conversely, I understand that feeling stuck produces a serious sense of frustration, and when you can’t find the joy in the work, well, feeling stuck and then watching people succeed through perseverance and the idea that working for the sake of the goal is not a horrible idea probably evokes something akin to an allergic reaction. (Solution: stop watching)
I remember being that kid who always thought there was something a bit more to do. I actually wasn’t the smartest kid in the class, ever. Just the boredest. Which meant I learned a lot, but not because I was gifted. Just because I was curious enough to want to learn, bored enough with the usual stuff to learn it and just bright enough to eventually grasp it. Not even all the time, though, I was pretty bad in a couple subject areas and just had to keep hacking away at it to keep my grades up because average grades weren’t acceptable. But the work itself was satisfying. I liked winning over the material, I liked reading any book I could get my hands on, I liked getting my homework done first.
My self assigned homework incentives were based on reading: two chapters for every homework assignment completed. Bonus: I could finish the whole book if I completed all homework by a certain time. I gamified before gamification was cool.
A shame I didn’t figure out this could work on other people. See? I wasn’t really a smart kid. But I learned to enjoy certain kinds of work, I learned I didn’t like other kinds of work but I could do it and it wouldn’t kill me and I learned that you have to work no matter what to make a living. So I worked, and I made a living, and at the end of the day?
I had earned a paycheck by the sweat of my own brow and tired as I was, deep down, I had pride and satisfaction in doing a job well. That meant something to me. I did it myself, I made the best decisions I could, I learned something if it was good day and if I didn’t, tomorrow was another day.
And that’s just something, isn’t it?
Maybe this is just the whole Kid of an Immigrant thing – be glad you can get a job, any job, and be glad you can get paid a wage kind of thing. Maybe it is, but I sort of doubt it.
Bootstrapping lore goes back a long ways, Joyce described bootstrappers as those (perhaps a bit more grandiosely than necessary for our purposes): “who had forced their way to the top from the lowest rung by the aid of their bootstraps. Sheer force of natural genius, that. With brains, sir.”
The West wasn’t populated by weenies, either, especially not weenies who didn’t appreciate the opportunities they were afforded when they tilled the land or ventured further into the wild unknown.
People the world over are making their lives by sheer force of will, determination, genius, curiosity, need, desire, joy, delight, creativity, or innovation. Whatever it is that makes them tick, they’re driven to do something about it, and I think it’s gorgeous. People would do well to know why we did it all in the first place and get back to that, or find our way to that place, whatever it is.
I’m lucky that a big part of my (happy) place is general and a little bit is found everywhere: I like getting things done. And I like doing things better, more organized and smarter, every time, every day.
::What’s your place?
September 21, 2011
First impressions rarely survive the heat of examination
“You don’t seem to be the kind of girl/lady who [fill in the blank with any of my hobbies, interests, or responsibilities].”
Talking to @thefitlounge on Twitter about first impressions, I was amused by the idea that anyone could be offended by a wrong first impression. They were pretty standard in my experience whether I meant to give them or not.
In college, I was described as a “Forever-21 seeming kind of girl” as someone’s confessed first impression. As a skinny-@$$ed kid who wore tank tops and jeans on a West Coast college campus teeming with a million other lookalikes, that was not out of line as far as superficial descriptions went. I did buy tank tops at Forever 21. They were cheap, and I had other priorities. (Bills.) That’s not what he meant, of course. He meant: some variety of a spoiled Asian girl with more time and money than brains, at college because her parents made her go not because she had any goals or ambitions beyond pledging a sorority or following the trend of the month, and seeking the most fashion I could find to catch the eye of the hottest guy on campus. We were surrounded by the like, after all.
Since then, I’ve been pegged as all kinds of other similarly superficial, very stereotypical, “female types.” I’ve been pigeonholed professionally by bad bosses as the “bait” for vendors, clients and colleagues (ick, ugh, and laughable), I’ve been initially dismissed as “only a girl” by people who thought I couldn’t possibly deal with the pressure of X, Y, or Z because of my size or my sex, I’ve been blinked at by people who didn’t expect that I’d bleed geek or finance if you cut me.
Growing past the stereotypes
The people who mattered got past the notion, or the outside face if it was an intentional wall I kept up not to let them in at all, that I was not just a 2-D female. They found that I was a person with a brain and the gumption was of my determination, not dictated by size, sex, weight or anything else. They discovered that while I could be just a simple country girl, I’m a little more complex than that.
I’ve lived a bit of life. I’ve flown in a home-built two-seater plane with a oil tycoon to hear the story of how it was built and why it flew better than his other planes; I learned how to ride horses and practiced martial arts; I learned basic car repairs and diagnostics with mechanically savvy friends so that mechanics couldn’t just pull a fast one because gee whillikers, lil lady, this here part that doesn’t exist needs replacing. (Though, shady mechanics will try that with anyone, male or female.)
I’ve adventured to Comic-Con in many phases: as a volunteer, as an attendee, alone, later with friends, and still later, brought friends who had never been. And for the love of money planning, should anyone in real life accidentally ask me a finance-related question, they’ll trigger a flood of information accumulated over the years.
Then there’s all of my background and history that only lives here on my blog – none of my family or financial life is really casual conversation so on meeting me, you might assume that I had a normal family with a normal childhood and had financial support to go to college and maybe held a job or two afterward.
Working with me, you’d be really confused because I still look like some really young age but I hold an incredible amount of responsibility and I’ve got a very strict code of professionalism so I must be old, but … am I? And I’ll never tell how old I am either. Because where’s the fun in that? 😉
The Value of the Superficial Judgment
In all of this, I’d come to realize that while it was valuable that I didn’t actually care what certain people (the average person on the street) thought of me, the fact that in general, people tend to judge based on appearances meant that any efforts put into directing those thoughts could make a difference where it’s important.
I do care whether people think of me as a “young professional” or don’t really think about my age at all because my physical attributes are just groomed enough to walk a middle ground of dressing for success at the level I want to be at but not being casual (like our C-suite) or overly gussied up.
That’s where Shelley’s suggestion of creating a “uniform” of sorts makes sense to me. I can’t afford a fully kitted out wardrobe with a huge variety of options and I don’t need it either. But a small, carefully crafted professional set of clothing to last a week is just about right.
I rely on the first impression that my professional dress will convey: that I’m someone to take seriously because I’m well-groomed and take my job and career seriously, to offset the first impression that I know my usual lackadaisical self would have given. And then my work speaks for me.
In everyday life, I’m a casual person so I dress accordingly so as not to give the impression that I’m anything different. In that “version” of me, I’m not motivated to dress much more nicely on average since I like to be able to play with dogs, read, work on the computer, do household chores, cook, clean, run errands, or any number of random things. And I’m often reserving the good stuff for work. 🙂 I might be cleaning up my act a little bit overall and eliminating some of the far-too-casual from my wardrobe as I creep toward my 30s but on the whole, comfort is the watchword for the weekends.
:: Have you been commonly stereotyped in the past or present? Was it a stereotype that bothered you or worked for you?
:: Are you a different version of yourself in different places?
Related Topics:
Fabulously Broke on Does holding or wearing designer anything, automatically mean you’re a high maintenance shopaholic?
Stacking Pennies on Designer Brands
March 19, 2011
It’s not going to be because of the night owl tendencies that Monday morning is going to dawn a bit more darkly than Saturday or Sunday.
Dare I cop to burnout so soon? Dare I admit that it’s been a long hard slog since landing this gig and no matter how hard I work, there’s always more piling on, more left to do, more that staff need from more, more expected of me, more, more and more?
Yes, we’ve got a vacation coming up but more often than not, the thought on my mind has been: what would I rather be doing?
And I know this has been an excellent learning experience, albeit a painful one, so it’s hard for me to say I want to do anything but this – that may just be the Tired As All Get Out speaking.
So instead, as I don’t rightly have the answer to that for myself, what would you rather be doing? Monday morning when you arise from your beauty rest, what would you ideally be getting ready to do for your daily bread?
December 8, 2010
After all is said and done, we spent an insane amount of money preparing for this business trip. INSANE.
I will definitely use everything that was purchased for many years to come because they are all high-quality materials, and I most certainly used them every single day on this trip so far and wouldn’t have survived it without, but I still cannot believe the total cost at the end of the day.
My clothing cost at least $600. PiC won’t tell me how much my surprise warm fuzzy boots cost, but I know the coat was nearly $500. None of the coats I ordered from Lands’ End (I ordered four to try on as they don’t carry petites in store) fit well, nor were they as flexible. The one he ran out and bought can be unzipped to be just a down or just a raincoat as well as zipped together, and it’s got a lifetime guarantee. Add in new waterproof, lined gloves, a hat, and very thick woolly socks (on sale) to round out the total.
My tech cost another $700. The computer was nearly $400 and then I ended paying through the nose for a 3-pack of the Microsoft Suite which I intended to skip installing except our servers wouldn’t let me access my work email in any way shape or form via anything BUT the installed program. It’s never given me that much trouble before, and on the eve of travel, it kicked up such a fuss, I couldn’t risk it.
Web-only access continued to be a serious problem throughout the trip so it’s a good thing I did install the suite because I would not have been able to work and that’s a huuuuge no-no.
And of course, the tote bag didn’t show up until I was long gone had to be replaced by another one, so I had to hie me to REI for something waterproof and over the shoulder/cross body in the absence of anything lightweight and professional looking. Found it for $80. *sigh*
Honest to goodness, I really should have considered all these costs when scheduling the work trip, not just when it would be slightly less inconvenient to be away from the office. What a huge pain to have spent well over a thousand dollars and wasted all that time shopping and fretting. It was an unusual week and the snow made for an unusual trip and it was an awful lot of fun. But that’s an offsetting benefit you can’t really expense against the costs.
I’ve just been minding the cost of meals out down to recoup some of the per diem money even if it is just a drop in the bucket. Every little bit counts!
