Annual Review!

We interrupt this regularly scheduled . . .um . . .unplanned hiatus, to bring you:

THE ANNUAL REVIEW

That's right, folks, it's my work-i-versary! I've been employed at a real-type job for exactly one year, and apparently that job has some things to say about it.

Naturally, I was petrified at the prospect of being reviewed, especially when my boss told me it was just, "So you'll be eligible for raises and things like that. It's just a formality, really." She was trying to put me at my ease; to lull me into a feeling of security. I knew I was doomed.

To make matters worse, I got to pass the time waiting for the axe to fall by filling out a horribly inane and passive-aggressive worksheet.

What went particularly well this year?

Well, all those times I wasn't being reviewed seem, in hindsight, to be wonderfully productive and successful times.

What could have gone better?

Oh, you mean in what ways did I suck? I know where you're going with this. I ain't talkin'.

How can your supervisor help you achieve your goals in the coming year?

Leave me alone, for the love of mercy, just stop with the third degree! Just tell me what you want me to say, and I'll say it.

And THEN . . . well, actually that was it. Three questions, each followed by three blank bullet points gently nudging me into saying a nice round three things in response to each prompt.

Three things . . . three things . . . when was the last time I said three things on a topic? Golly, I haven't said three things since that blog post where I talked about the three aspects of my job that were keeping me from being productive and . . .oh.

So I wrote those things down (not verbatim, naturally. They were safely cloaked in "office-speak"). And you know what? It worked. It was great. My boss listened to what I had to say, and I'm now going to have weekly meetings with her (Hey! Accountability! Urgency, also!) which will hopefully give me the direction and motivation I need to actually produce work.

As for the part of the review where my boss was supposed to tell me what crap I am at my job? It really was just a formality. She wasn't lying. She basically patted me on the head and said, "Good job." and then let me go back to my office and my google reader and my nice, safe knowledge that it would be another year before I'd have to worry about any of this nonsense.

I'm genuinely pleased with myself for making something out of this small opportunity to speak out about what I need to be successful in my job. I'm glad I took the time to (diplomatically. Oh, for heaven's sake, diplomacy above all else!) identify and express my thoughts about my job, and the ways in which it is and is not working for me. I'm equal parts surprised and delighted to find that, as a result of my asking for something, I'm going to get it. I've gained some control over what I do, and how I do it, and how others support me, and that feels really good.

I'm actually looking forward to going to work this week, and that, after all, is one of the goals of this blog. So, way to go, blog! Nice job! Keep it up, and next year, maybe I'll give you a new layout, or (gasp!) some actual, substantial content!

Focus, Part II

So, I'll level with you. The ending to this story is only partly happy. It's a bittersweet sort of ending. I hate to disappoint, especially since this is my pet problem at work, but this is the sort of battle that, I think must rage on. It might just be one for the ages, like the dryer vs. matched pair of socks battle, or the Endless Struggle to Balance Work and Home Life. It's just like my current battle with my laptop to capitalize things when I push Shift. What's up with that, laptop? (My laptop apparently does not like me talking smack about it, as it just froze up during that last sentence, and threatened to lose communication with Blogger.)

So, when we left off, I'd identified the reasons I wasn't working, and was about to plunge into the dangerous waters of actually doing something about it.

I first decided to make up my own solutions, because that always works. In all honesty, though, having identified my problems, I felt pretty powerful, because, as you may have heard, knowing is half the battle.

The battle's second half began with a daunting challenge: Lack of Resources. For those of you playing along at home, that's the part where accessing the files I need, and saving those files once I've altered them, takes FOREVER. I cannot change this, but what I can change is what I do while waiting for my computer to do its thing. I needed several very small tasks (or, failing that, several very quick time-wasters) to tide my mosquito-like attention span over until files could be uploaded to or downloaded to and from the mothership. I decided, instead of cracking open the old Google Reader (which generally leads to an hour or more of non-productivity), I would create a cache of small tasks, like clearing off my desk, or watering my plant (a cactus), to keep me more or less focused on work while waiting for my computer to catch up. Barring legitimate tasks, I allowed myself to read one webcomic, not a whole series, before checking back to if work had appeared.

This . . . didn't work. I probably would have done better to just try and zen out and wait, doing nothing. Once distracted from the task at hand, hauling my attention back was nearly impossible. I believe this is what the Internet likes to call a FAIL.

Moving on, Lack of Guidance. Ok, this one I could tackle. I am a smart cookie, and I know what needs to be done. I decided, instead of waiting for some larger entity to hold my hand, that I would take my large, amorphous tasks, and break them down into manageable chunks, step by step. This strategy was moderately more successful. Once I'd taken the time to write out the baby steps required to complete my tasks, I didn't find my eyes glazing over as much when confronted with my task list as a whole. Smaller tasks are easier to accomplish, and not as overwhelming. They're also much more satisfying, since "Create a Manual" only gives you one cathartic check mark per couple of months, but "Identify Missing Content," "Download Missing Content," and "Add Downloaded Content to Table of Contents," can all be accomplished in an afternoon, resulting in personal pats on the back all around.

The only problem with this solution? Issue #3 from last week: Lack of Accountability. While my Outlook Task List was very proud of me for accomplishing my mini-tasks, nobody else gave a hoot, and after awhile I didn't give a hoot, either. Breaking down my tasks into mini-tasks just started to feel like one more task . . . one more task that I didn't really have to do.

Clearly, it was time to call in the big guns. I needed to ask my old friend the internet, who had been so effective at distracting me from my job, for help in getting down to it. The upside: I could almost call this working, so I could do it while on the clock.

Stay tuned for next week's Long Distance Blog!!! Work Blogging while on vacation my be sacrilegious, but somebody's got to take one for Team Workplace, and since I am the team's only member . . . well, see you after Christmas!

Happy Happy, Internet!

Finding Focus: Part 1

For this week's post, I decided to dive right in and tackle my biggest challenge at work, and the issue that prompted me to start blogging in the first place: staying focused.

Like many office dwellers, I have unrestricted access to the internet at my place of work, which leads to untold opportunities to divert my attention from the task at hand. The internet itself, however, would probably not be enough to distract me from my job (I like my job, after all, and genuinely desire to do it well), were it not for a number of other forces working against me. Since knowing is half the battle, I set about to diagnose my distractedness disease before seeking a cure.

With this in mind, I kept a log for one week of exactly what I was doing at all times, attempting not to correct, but merely observe. The results, to say the least, were depressing. The ratio of productive hours to distracted hours is too embarrassing even to post on a relatively anonymous internet blog. Suffice it to say that I sincerely hope this is rock bottom, and that I can only improve from here.

After recovering from my shock at the tattered remains of my work ethic, I analyzed my carefully recorded ramblings, and identified three main obstacles that I believe are keeping me from being the laser-sighted super-employee that I wish to be.

1. Lack of Resources: That is to say, lack of computing resources that can keep up with the pace of my job, and my attention span. I work at a satellite, thousands of miles from my company's main location, and thus thousands of miles from its computer servers. In this day and age of lightening-fast connections and enormous bandwidths, this wouldn't seem to be a problem, except that I must connect to the shared file system via a twisted, tangled path of firewalls, VPN (Virtual Private Network)s, and other hurdles, all of which require seemingly endless passwords and patience to navigate. Once connected, a file that would take less than a second to open were it located on my own machine, takes well over a minute to navigate its way from the mother ship down to me. Well over a minute, I have discovered, is the exact amount of time it takes for my eyes to glaze over, and my brain to say, "Huh. Wonder what's going on over on LOLcats . . ."
2. Lack of Guidance: Being a satellite often means that the mother ship forgets about me for months at a time, assuming all is going swimmingly unless I start making noise. When decrees do come down from on high, the tasks are often enormous and vague. Create a Manual. Organize Vast Stretches of Data. Investigate Avenues of Improvement. Like a sculptor facing an enormous block of marble, with nothing but a tiny chisel, and, for that matter, a very limited knowledge of the art of sculpting, I often look upon these monumental undertakings and think that perhaps now would be a good time to break for lunch.
3. Lack of Accountability: When my boss leaves the office for a meeting or takes a sick day, I know I'm sunk. She rarely checks in on me even when she's there, but the chance that she'll walk into my office with some question or other, and catch me looking up wedding hairstyles instead of Creating, Organizing, and Investigating is generally enough to at least get me to try and focus. When she's gone, so am I.

Now, I'm not proud of these obstacles, and they seem pretty pathetic when set out in black and white, but I've got my diagnosis, and that, at least, is a starting point.

Stay tuned for parts 2 and 3 of this series, when I will attempt to first tackle my problems myself, and then cave in and go looking for outside support.

Conventional!

Well, I was going to be extra-special cool this week and post to blogger from my phone, but blogger is being uncooperative, so we'll have to do things the old-fashioned way.

This is going to be a short one, not only because last week's facebook post was the size of several small novels, but because I'm in the midst of some self-research at work, but won't be ready to report back until next week.

But for this week . . .hold on to your hats! We're going to a conference! Do you know why we're going to a conference? Because conferences are awesome! I didn't used to think so. Back when I was in grad school, conferences were something terrifying and incomprehensible that grown-ups did. Places where people gave incomprehensible talks about opaque subjects that only mattered to approximately 5 other people in the universe.

Not anymore! No, no, no! Go to a conference! Go to one right now! If it's a year from now, and you are in the Bay Area, go to this one: http://www.ywca-berkeley.org/YWAMC/ I'll be there.

5 Reasons this Conference was great!

5. Swag! I got a tote bag, and a stuffed animal, and a t-shirt, and and and post-it notes, and a book! Christmas came early, and with a bank logo slapped all over it.

4. Discounts! The whole day cost me only $20, because the bank putting it on in collaboration with the YWCA wanted so much for me to know the things it was teaching me, that it subsidized my fee. There may be somebody out there who wants to feed you muffins and chicken and facts and motivation right now! Start looking!

3. Networking! I'm not the queen of networking (that was the third Keynote Speaker, actually). I'm not particularly good at it. However, this environment made it easy for even people like me to smile across the table, and make connections with other smart young go-getters. People were nice! They gave me their e-mail addresses, and told me we should connect with each other. The conference atmosphere put everyone in the mood to seek out connections and get things done. It was exciting, and very good practice.

2. Knowledge! Glorious knowledge! I learned a lot of useful things about money, and at the same time, received unbelievable amounts of motivation from superbly enthusiastic speakers. I really felt energized, even during the cheesy parts. Hearing that Saturday was the first day of the rest of my life enough times made me believe it a little bit, or at least think about how my life would change if it were true. It got me in touch with the big picture, which is something I think we all need not just every once in a while, but regularly.

And the number one reason why conferences are great:

1. When I told my boss where I'd been this weekend, she said, "Wow. That's great that you're being so proactive about that."

Hear that? My boss thinks I'm proactive. All because I ate some chicken and got some people to tell me about my potential while giving me presents.

Go conferences! Go TO conferences! I dare you. It'll be fun.

Taking on The Facebook

Recently, this status update appeared on my facebook newsfeed from one of my friends:

Today, Facebook will start using your photos in ads that will appear on the profile page of your contacts. If you want to prevent this from happening, do the following: Settings => Privacy => NewsFeed and Wall => Facebook Ads => Choose "No one" and save changes. Copy this and use in a status update to spread the word!

Alarmed, I followed the directions closely. I have no idea what Facebook could possibly advertise using pictures of my fiance in an apron or my recent trip to Sonoma County, but I'm willing to bet they could figure something out. Facebook is a valuable tool, but anyone who's stopped to examine their eerily targeted advertising, or the ease with which one can connect everything from the recipes one looks up on Epicurious.com to how much weight one has lost with SparkPeople, will know that Facebook possesses a dangerous amount of information about all of us, and doesn't think twice about using that information to its advantage. I'm not saying Facebook is evil. I'm just saying they're a company like any other, and it is to their benefit to know absolutely everything about you and me and everyone we know, so it is best to be wary of how much and what kind of information we provide, particularly when one takes the workplace into account.

For example, the #1 result of a Google search of the word "Facebook" just today was a story from the L.A. Times about a woman who had her health benefits revoked after it was determined that she was having too much fun in her Facebook photos to receive benefits for the severe depression that had kept her from working.

I am astonished by this sort of thing mostly because I find it amazing that anybody gives a darn about the information I put up on my Internet profiles (well, profile, now that MySpace and Friendster have gone the way of . . . well, MySpace and Friendster). When filling in those little boxes with copious, accurate information about my favorite TV Shows and Quotes, I couldn't help but feel a little foolish, knowing in my heart that nobody, not even my 200 or so "friends," really cared. I never read that sort of information on my friends' profiles, and had kind of resigned myself to the fact that I was essentially providing these personal tidbits as a sort of general catalog of my existence. Let the Great Universal Record show that in the early part of the 21st Century there did live a young woman by the name of Francesca Fiori who did, on occasion, enjoy the television show Fear Factor, though this fact caused her some degree of shame. Somehow I could sleep easier knowing that I'd made my virtual mark. That, and I was just flattered that someone had asked, even an anonymous, indifferent Internet someone.

However, once we'd all been lulled into this sense of secure anonymity among so much connection, Facebook figured out a way to use this knowledge. They could take our interminable lists of interests, and try to sell us things based upon them. Knowing that my favorite band is Counting Crows, they could alert me when a new album came out, and when the band would be touring in my area (since they also know exactly where I live)! Recovering from the enormous sense of elation I felt upon realizing that SOMEONE ACTUALLY CARES, there came the uneasy knowledge that someone was actually watching. Facebook was not an uncaring and benevolent database service, it was and is a company, and my social networking tool is more akin to extremely clever market research.

OK, so now what? I'm not one of those people who runs screaming from supermarkets when asked if I want to receive discounts by allowing them to keep track of what I buy with my handy key chain bar code tag. I think it's a valid system, and I don't see what they could learn about my green bean-buying habits that could possibly harm me. The kind of information Facebook possesses, on the other hand, could really be damaging if taken out of context, or seen by the wrong eyes, so I needed to figure out a way to continue to enjoy the good parts of Facebook, without having to constantly look over my virtual shoulder.

For guidance, I turned to this article from The New York Times:

5 Easy Steps to Stay Safe (and Private!) on Facebook

I know, I know, taking on the whole Internet last week only took three steps, but Facebook is a different, and very specific animal, so let's jump in!

Step 1 is Making Friend Lists. Ugh. So boring. Extremely important, but also incredibly dull. I started by lumping people together by how I knew them (Family, College Friends, etc.) but quickly realized that what I really wanted to do was just have two lists, one being "wheat" and the other "chaff." That is to say, "People I Actually Know, Like, and Trust," and "People to Whom I Don't Mind Being Connected, But May Not Have Seen for 10 Years, and May Not Actually Care For." This speeds the process up considerably. I may need to refine them at some point, but for now this will do to keep me feeling secure.

Step 2 is determining who can see what. I was astonished (just now!) to note, even though I thought I'd pre-sanitized my Facebook in preparation for this blog post, that when I checked my Privacy Settings not only my Friends, but anyone in my Networks as well could see just about everything about me. Now, I'm pretty careful about who I friend. I don't like to offend people, but I absolutely ignore requests from people I don't actually know. I assumed this meant that only people I know could see my profile. Not the Case. Everyone who went to my college, grad school, or lived in my hometown could see my every last detail. Disconcerting, Facebook, though I suppose I should not have been surprised. OK, look out chaff. The grain is about to start flying.

My personal Chaff list consists of past and present employers and co-workers, past school friends I don't really know all that well, and people whose political beliefs I know to be vastly different from mine. These folks will no longer see my status updates or photos of me, and probably won't notice or care. Cool. I'm starting to feel powerful. Moving on.

Step 3: Who can see your address and phone number. Ah, good call. Same restrictions. Done and Done.

Step 4: Who can Find You Via Search. This one sounds eerie, but now that I've got my lists all in order, I'm not too concerned about people finding me out. I can always just ignore them or put them on the Chaff list if I feel uncomfortable. However, it can't hurt to limit this as well. I'll leave it so that everyone can search for me, but there is an option regarding whether or not a search from a general Internet search engine will bring up your profile, and that particular box is getting un-checked. I don't need Google all up in my Facebook business.

Ok, last step: Stop Sharing Personal Information with Unknown Applications. Ah, yes. Those darn Mafia Wars. They know everything about me, because I said that was okay. I had no choice! I was intimidated. Ah, the heady first days with a Facebook Account, when every Bumper Sticker seemed too hilarious not to share, and no Super Wall could be Super enough.

I went through my list of applications and deleted all of them that I didn't care about (Little Green Patch was driving me insane, anyway), and I must say I feel a lot better. Not only am I more secure, I don't have to cringe when I remember what level Pirate Vixen I am, and how that information is proudly displayed for all of Facebook to see.

What the article doesn't mention was the part of cleaning up my Facebook that I was really looking forward to: un-tagging pictures. A couple of years ago, my status actually read, "Francesca Fiori will eventually have to do something about all of the unflattering pictures of herself on the internet." With this step, I didn't want to make myself more secure so much as eliminate all evidence that I have a double chin in certain lights, and that sometimes I don't wash my hair as often as I should. Gleefully clicking through pictures of myself, however, I began to notice a trend. There's me at a party with a drink in my hand. There's me at a bar holding a glass of wine. There's me with my old roommates and a large plastic cup of beer. An astonishing number of Facebook photos of me feature alcoholic beverages. I won't say how many, but the percentage is much too high for comfort. Or rather, was.

This was kind of a lark to begin with, as I didn't think anything terribly incriminating existed with regard to my identity on the Internet. I thought the worst the 'net could do to me was embarrass me with a couple of old LiveJournal entries and bad haircuts. Clicking through my Facebook pictures, however, I saw myself through the eyes of a potential employer, and found myself to be distinctly undesirable as an employee.

Now, you know and I know that the amount of alcohol featured in our Facebook pictures is a natural consequence of the convergence of Events at Which Photos are Taken, and Events at Which Alcohol is Served, but Facebook fails to provide this kind of context and apology for one's Internet image. Facebook simply serves it up the way it is, and allows the viewer to draw his or her own conclusions. This little adventure in Personal Public Relations has taught me a valuable lesson in managing the kind of information I put out there, and what I allow others to provide. You never know who might decide to care.

OK, next week: on to the actual working part of work! See you then!

If this internet could talk . . .

Ok, new rule! Or rather, since this is the workplace, a new policy. From here on out, I will update this blog every Monday. If I know anything about myself, it's that I do better on a deadline, so the time has come to lay the smack down on myself, and blog or bust.

Now that we've got old business out of the way, on to new business:

This week's topic is Internet Image.

The internet knows a few things about all of us, and it isn't good at keeping secrets. It's also terrible at telling the difference between one's personal and professional lives, and what seems clever and awesome in the personal realm seems inevitably to make its way into the professional realm, where it comes off in a decidedly less flattering light. The flow of information is frighteningly fluid, and I am amazed every day by the amount of connections between internet sites. Consequently, the difficulty of maintaining any sort of privacy or anonymity, even if one really tries, is staggering. Blogger knows all my business because of Google, and Flickr's got the lowdown from Yahoo, and don't even get me started on Facebook. Of all the middle school girls on the internet, Facebook is the greatest lover of gossip, and has not only the greatest store of knowledge, but also the loosest lips.

I decided, in order to improve my professional image, to buckle down and figure out what the internet was saying about me, and as much as possible, to set the record straight. As my guide for Part I of II of this voyage, I took an article from the September 2009 issue of Real Simple Magazine entitled, "How to Look Your Best Online." This article contains three very simple steps to get the internet to stop whispering about you in the locker room.

Step one is to figure out what's out there, and begins, of course, with The Google. I have to admit that I cheated on this one, and googled myself about a month before I began to clean up my online image in earnest, and it's a good thing I did. I am not one of those people blessed with a common name, and Googling my unique moniker immediately brought up an image from my own personal Friendster profile. This profile was in one of the grey areas of internet privacy in that it kept almost all of my information locked away from public view, but did show my main profile image to anybody who cared enough to inquire. The image in question happened to be a particularly attractive and artsy image of me gazing off into the distance, looking melancholy, while clutching a big ol' bottle of gin. Suddenly the lack of interest in my resume during last year's furious job hunt seemed less confounding. "Hmm, here's an interesting and qualified candidate, " I imagined potential employers musing to themselves, "Let's just do a quick web search before calling her in for an interview . . . . .oh dear. Nevermind."

In my defense, "Self Portrait with Tanqueray" was taken with an indie-music-loving ex-boyfriend in mind, and was intended to show my appreciation for a mix CD he'd made me containing the song "Love is Like a Bottle of Gin" by The Magnetic Fields. It's a cute picture, and witty, even. Excellent Friendster material . . . except that nobody uses Friendster, anymore, and potential employers googling me were and are unlikely to get the joke.

Ok, so what to do about it. That's step two: Clean up Content You Don't Want the World to See. With a nostalgic sigh I edited, and then eventually deleted, my Friendster and MySpace profiles. I never check them anymore, and MySpace still listed my occupation as "smoker." Hilarious? Maybe. Unlikely to impress anyone in a professional setting? Absolutely. I'm keeping Facebook, with strong reservations. As objectionable as it can be from a privacy standpoint, it's still a really useful tool for keeping in touch with people with whom I might otherwise have lost contact, and really, how else am I going to let everyone know how cute my cats are? Hmm? Riddle me that.

Fortunately, I'm not one for flame wars or internet forums in general, so I didn't have to go back and delete any crazypants blog entries or nasty comments. I do, however, hold control of a previous blog, which is, I must admit, embarrassingly emo, and not something I want the internet to know about. While Friendster and MySpace got the axe with relative ease, I could not bring myself to permanently delete any of my writing, no matter how self-indulgent. I decided to do the next best thing, and set all of my entries to "private." Unfortunately, LiveJournal (I know, I know!) doesn't let you perform this operation on all of your entries en masse unless you're a paid member. I tried going back and editing entries one by one and setting them to "private", but quickly lost patience, and decided that $5 for a temporary paid account was a small price to pay for my sanity. Hopefully, the Internet will quickly forget all about my frustration with earning minimum wage and my ex-boyfriend's obsession with professional wrestling. Oh, Livejournal. Fare well, old friend. I'll revive you when I'm rich and famous, and publishers are clamoring to publish my early works.

Now that we know what the internet is saying about us, Real Simple also suggests setting up a Google Alert (google.com/alerts) so that we'll know immediately the second the internet starts talking smack. This has been fun so far for me, although it's mostly just telling me about a girl in Texas with the same name as mine who's winning awards in a college theater festival. Good on ya, sweetheart! It also clued me in to the fact that my domain name is on its radar. Again, at the recommendation of Real Simple, I bought myname.com from GoDaddy.com (For those of you keeping track at home, cleaning up my internet image has now cost me about $25.00. $21.75 for two domain names-I snagged my fiance's name as well-and $5.00 in hush money to LiveJournal), and I must say, I feel pretty good and powerful about that. Me.com is pretty boring at the moment, but it is entirely mine, and at least I know that nobody is using it for any other illicit purposes, and that gives me peace of mind.

I was very excited about me.com for a couple of days, and even went about setting up a free website through weebly.com so I could "create favorable content" about myself, as RS suggests in its third and final step. A few days later, after my enthusiasm for the project had fizzled, weebly sent me a surprisingly miffed, passive-aggressive e-mail, essentially letting me know how excited they'd been about my nascent website, and much it had hurt their feelings that I had abandoned it without adding any sort of content. Sheesh. If I'd known my Mom was the driving force behind Weebly, I probably would have just left well enough alone. Anyway, I got another guilt trip from Google Alerts a few days later, letting me know that they'd found my empty weebly site, and that the internet thinks I'm boring, but you know, I'll take boring over gin-soaked any day. I'm hoping to create a fun and interesting (and favorable) website one of these days. For now I'm just working on cleaning house before I try and do any serious remodeling.

Once you've deleted all of your fun internet profiles, RS recommends that you continue in your quest for favorable content by creating a profile on LinkedIn, or as I used to call it, Facebook for Losers. I've changed my tune, as LinkedIn (again, hooked straight up to my gmail account, with no muss, no fuss, and no privacy) immediately found all sorts of people with whom I could connect, and many of whom I actually wanted to know in a professional context. It found people whose names I didn't even remember, but with whom I'm really glad to be connected now. Lots of people are on LinkedIn, and if they find me here, they're far less likely to go looking for me elsewhere, so I think it's bound to be a good resource.

My LinkedIn profile is about as interesting as my weebly at the moment, but I'm planning to work on that one of these Monday nights as well. For the moment, though, I'm girding my loins for next week, when I'll attack the most confounding internet monster of them all . . . FACEBOOK.

Stay tuned, more amusing and cathartic image overhaul to come!

Open with a Song

I remember when I first heard the Jason Mraz song that inspired this blog's title. I was so pleased that somebody had finally written a song for the working people; and not just any old Bruce Springsteen/Erie Canal song of drudgery. This was an upbeat song, a song full of hope and the satisfaction derived from a job well done. This was a song for the other eight hours of the day. The eight hours we don't talk about much once we get home and feed the cats and put the pork chops in the oven (that was my evening, by the way). I pictured people in cubicles and pushing mail trollies, entering data into Microsoft Excel, all the while bopping their heads going, "Laa la la la laaaaaaa!" filled with joy, camaraderie, and job satisfaction.

I realized my error soon afterward, and experienced a surprisingly keen disappointment. I want someone to write that song, guys. The workplace needs that song. This feeling of letdown was heightened when I tuned in to NPR to hear a whole story on the lack of songs about the workplace (can't find the link just now. I'll work on it). The only work song they came up with that's even remotely positive is "Car Wash."

Well, I don't work at a Car Wash, folks. I work in an office. I am an Administrative Associate, and I am dying to feel good about my job. I am sick of clock-watching and living for the weekend. I am desperate to find meaning in the day-to-day grind, and since I can't heighten my experiences with song, I'm going to blog about it.

My goals for this blog are to learn about working, to become better at my job and more fulfilled by it. I plan to read all those books you're supposed to read, like The Seven Habits of Highly Successful People and How to Make Friends and Influence People, and write about whether or not they are full of it. I'd also like to re-write the wikipedia definition of my job, because it's lame.

Down with lame! Up with blogs! Hooray for the workplace! Oh, and if anyone out there is musically inclined, and wants to succeed where our deal Mr. Mraz dropped the ball, I heartily salute you, and would love to hear what you've got to say.