Friday, August 08, 2008

True Life

"Hello!" I said to Adam this morning as I turned the corner. He was frowning darkly at the copy machine and I raised my eyebrows in curious amusement. "Problems?"

"Damn thing won't work," he muttered, without his typical wink in my direction. I mimicked his frown and moved closer to his side, joining him in staring down at the blinking lights and flashing error messages.

"It says it wants toner," I offered after a moment, just in case he hadn't noticed the capital letters glaring their demand for more ink to him.

"Who the hell should handle this shit?" he said, visibly annoyed and I shrugged, returning my attention to the blinking lights since he was continuing to shoot menacing looks at the machine as well.

"Fantastic," a voice behind us complimented and I turned to grin at the most important man in our building. "My top technical people bested by a copy machine. Gives me confidence in our future." I giggled and finally got a wink, albeit not from Adam. He continued to swear and stalked off in the other direction toward some hapless secretary who hadn't kept the copier in tip-top shape. I shrugged, the two men heading in opposite directions from where I stood, and headed along my way.

It's a reasonably stressful time at work right now, which - interestingly enough - means that very little work is getting done. If someone shadowed me in an attempt to learn about my job, it'd be pretty boring. I arrive, unlock my office, and tuck my purse in a drawer. I fetch a cup of coffee, add powdered cream and a packet of sugar and return to my desk to peruse email and my calendar for the day. I sometimes have 30 minutes to reply to the most urgent messages before I move quickly through the halls to another office or conference room or lab. I carry a notebook and pen, and try mightily to remember to keep my cell phone in my pocket.

I sit - sometimes grabbing a bottle of water or can of soda to sip - and listen. I scribble notes so I can recall details, somehow distinguishing this meeting from the five or six others I'll have in a day. I offer opinions when asked - which is happening more frequently - and return to huge numbers of emails. Often, the light on my phone blinks insistently.

"Here you go," Bailey offered today, dropping a stack of pages on my desk.

"What can I do for you?" I asked, swiveling to face her and smiling as I glanced up. "You look adorable - love your top. So what's this?" I asked, flipping through pages and wondering if it was an agreement or proposal or chart I needed to edit or memorize or file. "Crap," I grimaced in apology as I paged through relocation paperwork. "I forgot I printed this - thanks for bringing it by."

I signed and dropped the pages with my secretary to fax. I went to answer more questions and evaluate more technology - and practice feeling rather important and busy. I had lunch with a colleague and chatted about expectations and goals and problems while we ate. I returned to fill my water bottle and did a short training session for a couple of visitors. I smiled and answered questions and fumbled my way through unfamiliar details. I expressed my opinions a bit strongly in one meeting, offending someone whose idea caused me to wrinkle my nose in displeasure. I tried to backtrack, but the damage had been done, leaving me thinking I'm not so corporate after all. And this environment is less forgiving to quirkiness than many academic ones.

"Hi," I said when Dad called my cell phone. "I'm going to bring work home tonight so I can focus on it. So I'll drive home tomorrow morning, OK?" I listened while he talked for a few minutes and rushed him off the phone when my office line trilled, seeking my attention. Eventually, I packed up my papers and laptop and notes and walked to my car. I returned to the hotel, happily greeted my pretty puppy, and sat down with my list of tasks to be completed.

After I'd made some progress, I closed that computer and opened Nick. And though I forgot to take a picture today, I did get to write a post. But - quite honestly - for someone in a technical/scientific role, I feel like I do more talking than thinking. And while it's interesting and a good way to learn, I'm looking forward to life calming down so I can do what they hired me to accomplish.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I have an involuntary nose wrinkle, too. Hard to control.

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