Everyday Stranger

Frankenjob

As some of you know, I work for a telecom infrastructure giant. I love the work, I love the travel, and I used to love the autonomy and incredible decision making power I had before the recession. I got to decide anything and everything in the work I did (I am a Senior Product Manager. Actually, my real title is "Release Responsible").

Anyway, the situation is tough here. The company is half the size it used to be, and 33% of my group goes in November. Yes, I am worried, for the record.

But the workload continues. Only we are all in a cover-your-ass role here, so this means that we don't get to decide anything, management tells us what is decided, and we have to try to work around it.

My latest project is something I call it "Project Kick My Ass". I don't feel comfortable talking about my work here (for job security reasons), so let's say it is my job to put a body together. I have all the requisite parts to put said body together. I can make Frankenstein. It is do-able, and I have a deadline.

Yesterday, one of my managers comes up to me (yes, one of them. I have FOUR!) and throws a bloody elbow on the table.

"Helen", he sighs, thick Swedish accent in place. "All you get is an elbow now."
"An elbow?" I reply.
"Yes, just the elbow."
"Lars, I cannot possibly make a body out of just an elbow."
"Well, you will have to try."
He walks away. I start beating my laptop with the elbow, hoping it does not ruin my nice trousers.

Later in the day, he comes back and dumps a load of body parts on the table.

"Sorry, Helen. My bad. Here's most of the body, turns out you will get it anyway."
"Lars, I don't see any butt on the table here. And where's my spleen?"
"I know, I know. But spleens are expensive these days. You will have to do without."
I take my bruised, stumpy elbow and start beating the body parts with it. The elbow and I have become close now. I will not ever give up my elbow.

Later still, Lars come back, looking determined. He takes both of my body legs off the table and tucks them under his arms, whistling as they bleed down his khakis. I stubbornly hide my elbow in my desk drawer, hoping it doesn't bleed all over my sour wine gums in there.

"I am going to need these. Since you are working on Frankenstein version 2A, I need to give these to the Frankenstein Project, version 1.D."
"What? You're taking my fucking legs? How am I to produce a body without them Lars? I am already butt-less and spleen-less! If you give version 1.D my legs, it will have three legs! How can you manage that? How can I market my no-legged man? How can you guys decide things without checking with me?"
"Become a line manager, Helen." Lars replies, walking off.

I have padlocked the rest of my body parts into my desk, in hopes that I can make a sort-of functioning body here. I will be implementing my body parts with pieces of chicken, some asparagus, and pictures of Colin Firth. Sealed with duct tape, of course.

What a day. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to take my stumpy elbow and go beat something up.

-H.

An update- Damn I have those boys trained well. Have just left a meeting, bound for another. Now, I am almost always the only female in the room, which doesn't bother me since I tend to handle interactions with men better than with women. However, I HATE it when the boys turn to me for admin help, copies, etc. When I do help out, I am always clear to tell them that I am helping out not because I am a woman, but because I am nice.

In my meeting this morning, some documents needed to be printed out, necessitating leaving the room to do it. Everyone looked at the table, not daring to look around to see who would do it. So I stood up.

"Ok," I said. "Ill go do them."
I got up and walked to the door, but turned.
"But I am not doing it because I am a woman."

And, in chorus, four earnest faces replied "No, it's because you're nice."

Good boys.

Posted by Everydaystranger at October 14, 2003 08:33 AM | TrackBack