Atomictumor

Survived first week back after three off for paternity leave.

What more can I say?

***

Heard this piece on NPR about gangs in Southern California. The reporter found a gang member who said what’s needed to fix things are more opportunities like jobs and stuff for kids. This gang member said, “They need to give us jobs.” The “they” here being the government, I suppose.

I wonder what tree in Southern California has jobs growing on it? I don’t know, but I just don’t buy that. So, let’s see if the government doesn’t give out jobs, then a life of crime is the logical conclusion?

***

Funny, but I didn’t see a post about work coming when I started this.

This morning I woke up for my usual routine of rolling over in bed and going to work. For those not familiar with working from home, this is how its done:

5:42 AM - Alarm goes off. Cuss at it, hit snooze button. Roll over.

5:51 AM - Alarm goes off again. Ponder why snooze is at 9 minute intervals, while cussing at it. Hit snooze button again. Roll over the other way, pick up laptop, connect to VPN, pull up remote desktop connection to work computer, activate phone client, insert Bluetooth dongle (heh), roll back over.

6:00 AM - Alarm goes off for third time, but since you haven’t had a chance to go to sleep after the exertions of 5:51, just glare at it. Turn alarm off. Turn lamp on. Pick up computer, which by now has made the connection to the remote desktop. Turn on Bluetooth headset, place on ear, log into phone client, pull up work applications. Prop head on pillows, place laptop on stomach, and work.

6:30 AM - Phone rings with caller needing technical support. Realize you had been asleep.  Snap awake, sit up straight. Resolve call. Go to bathroom. Start 4 cups coffee. Do 30 sit-ups.  Pour cup of coffee.  Enjoy.  Pick out music to wake kids up to.
6:45 AM - Play music.  Open kids room doors.  Wake boys up, get them excited for day.  Deflect complaints, arguments,  cries of mercy.  Probably take a call in the middle of it. Resolve call.

7:00 AM - Still working, make sure that kids are dressed, fed (but not too much, so they can have school breakfast).  Ensure that MastaG has not slacked on presenting things to sign.  Go on bug hunt with Pigpen.  Complain at MastaG for turning computer game on so early in morning.

7:15 AM - Take break from work to take shower.

7:25 AM - Shoe children, send them out door.

7:30 AM - Lock door, load up kids, start car.

7:31 AM - Stop car, unlock door, go back inside house to get Pigpen’s backpack at his request.  Note to self that Pigpen doesn’t USE backpack.
7:45 AM - Drop MastaG off at school.

7:46 AM - Commisserate with Pigpen vis a vis his not wanting to go to school.  Try to cheer him up, fail miserably.  Worry.

7:52 AM - Drop Pigpen off.

8:05 AM - Arrive at work.

Pretty straightforward, right?

Now, if you remove an aspect of this perfectly organizeed timeline, like, oh, say, your computer at work being dead, thus rendering you unable to work from home, it changes things to something like this:

5:42 AM - Alarm goes off. Cuss at it, hit snooze button. Roll over.

5:51 AM - Alarm goes off again. Ponder why snooze is at 9 minute intervals, while cussing at it. Hit snooze button again. Roll over the other way, pick up laptop, connect to VPN, pull up remote desktop connection to work computer, activate phone client, insert Bluetooth dongle (heh), roll back over.

6:00 AM - Realize that you’re not connecting to work computer.  Call guy at the office, ask him to reboot it.

6:10 AM - Still unable to enter.  Cuss.  Threaten computer.

6:20 AM - Give up, go back to sleep.

6:42 AM - Wake up.  Start coffee.  Realize that today is going to suck anyway, forego sit-ups.

And so forth.

It ends with writing a half hearted post about how the day sucks, and realizing that there are most likely going to be 3 just like it coming right afterwards.  Whee!

—

BTW, IT took the computer, and returned it saying its working, but they’re not sure whats wrong with it.  Could be power supply, could be motherboard, might want to back up.

Weak.

After only three prematurely aborted forays into the seedy world of residential interior design, I have come to the conclusion that it just ain’t for me.

The first job I had was with an overly permissive client who appeared at the outset to have virtually unlimited cash to put into a renovation.  As time went on and we pushed him to secure the money, the more difficult it became to contact him.  After we had picked out furniture and hired a general contractor, he changed all his contact numbers and email addresses and moved.  To Maryland.

The second job I had was really a commercial endeavor, not residential, but it was with a small business owner.  We were to turn her recently purchased meat-packing plant into a corporate HQ and bottling facility.  After some miscommunication, I was squeezed out by a fellow designer.  She and I have since patched up our relationship.

This last ex-job though… whew.  An elderly home-owner contacted one of my teachers asking for a student designer.  I called dibs and got the lady’s phone number.  After consulting with my teacher, I settled on an hourly wage for myself.  To say my client balked would be doing it an injustice.  She actually laughed when I told her.  She suggested a price that was half what I was asking.  Since she was elderly, I acquiesced.  I went to her home (in hoity-toity Farragut) once to “interview” and look around at what I’d be dealing with.  The room she wanted to redo was really quite nice, and I told her that I’d like to leave most of it alone, and just rearrange furniture and purchase some new pieces.
I went out to her home a second time to take pictures, measurements and to match colors.  After I was done, she casually told me that she has been in contact with a professional designer and that, if the designer’s prices are right (twice over what I initially asked for, easily), she’ll be giving the other woman the job.

“But don’t worry, we’ll save something for you to do.”

Excuse me?

I was hired.  I was given a job, an hourly wage was agreed upon, I’ve begun considering changes and have put time into planning, worrying and consulting with my teacher.  And you call to tell me, “Don’t do anything between now and the next time I call you, because I’ll be consulting with the professional designer next week”?

So I’ve decided to be pro-active and call her and turn down the left-overs that she’s saving for me.

Edit:  She just called me to tell me she’s going with the experienced designer.  She did say that she’d give me a call when she needed another room done, but I politely told her not to bother.

Being civil very well might be the hardest part of my line of work.