THIS BLOG HAS MOVED

To go to the new Ittybittycrazy blog, click here.

To go to the new Puppy Dog blog, click here.

All the old stuff has been transported over there, too.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 37.2

I don't always realize when I am stressed, and so I don't ask for help. To be fair, I don't give myself very clear signs that I am stressed, so I guess it isn't a big surprise that I just go off on my own and just try to handle things.

My stress indicators only occur to me when it's too late.

The first is being irritable and intolerant.

You only realize that it might have been a little unreasonable to shout at the guy in the SUV and accelerated to stop him from cutting in front of you, almost causing an accident, after you've driven for at least the next three blocks and simmered down.

The second is losing memory.

You only realize that you should have (a) printed out the appointment and the doctor's name and address, or (b) made sure you synched your phone with your Outlook on the PC, when you are standing in front of the Information Desk at the huge tower of medical offices, unsure where to go and you hear yourself say:

"Um, I don't know what the right word is for it. He's an ass doctor."

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 37.1

The other day I had to stop off at the store for a few groceries and, like I always do, I drove out via the alleyway.

The store is on our main road in this part of town - we aren't downtown, so this wasn't an alley between tall buildings and, one street back from the store, there are houses.

I came out from behind the store onto the street, ready to turn right, when I looked straight ahead. The alleyways between the houses seemed to stretch out infinitely in front of me. I had to go seven blocks over, then two blocks to the right to get home.

"What the hell," I thought. "Forget the main road. I'm taking the alleyways."

And so, very slowly, I edged across the street and into the first alley.

Driving along the alleys gave me a completely different perspective on roads I drive every day. I noticed houses I'd never really looked at properly before, and saw them from the back - a very different view.

And the alleys themselves were like a little world of their own. There was:

• the artist sitting at an easel, painting, in her garage, her works hung all over the walls
• the garage painted bright yellow, with brown edging (different)
• the obviously well used basketball hoop
• the tree, so tall and so old that the roots had completely lifted the road like a mini-earthquake
• the guy doing DIY in his garage wearing funky eye protecting goggles
• the elderly lady bending over her flower beds, wearing gardening gloves and trowel in hand
• the messy trash cans, the neat and clean trash cans, the house that creates so much trash they had a mini-dumpster our back.

I felt, for the five minutes I drove home that way, like I had peeked through my neighbor's curtains and discovered a little bit more about them.

It was fascinating.

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 37.0

Yesterday my therapist, She's So Lovely, asked me an interesting question.

I was describing a potential contract job I've been put forward for and another interesting role I've applied for in a completely different industry.

"Could you," she asked, "work a four day week?"

I blinked. "Well," I said, "in a way, I have been. I used to work most Fridays from home."

"Not the same thing," she said. "You were still working, right?"

"Sure," I said, thinking back to the fact that Fridays could often be the most productive day of my week.

She went on to tell me that depression, anxiety, stress - all these things are often caused by a sense that we don't have control over our own lives.

If you have just that one day a week that is yours - to do something creative, to see friends, to go to a dance class - it can make a big difference in your ability to deal with characteristics of corporate jobs like pressure, ambiguity, politics, empire-building, resistance to change, the blame game and lack of work/life balance.

It's a very tempting thought, but I wonder if any employer would go for it?

Flavors of America

The sign says it all

Divided by a Common Language: Privacy for PeePoops

Why are the doors on public toilets in the USA slightly too small for the stalls, so that there is a half inch gap on both sides?

If you walk into a public restroom and look at the stalls at the right angle, you can see who is in there and what they are doing.  

Which means, when you are on the other side of the stall door, people can see you.  

Not only that, but restroom doors here don't tend to have those little indicators attached to the latches which say "Vacant" or "Occupied" so you have no choice but to peer through the gap to see if someone is in the stall.

Why?

I want to pee and poop in peace and in privacy!

Diary of an Ex-Employee - Day 35.2

I just went to the coffee shop wearing this T-shirt (available on Threadless here).  

The young guy who took my order started to try and figure out the design.  Then there was a delicious moment when he realized that, to do so, he was staring at my ample bosom (work what God gave you, I say), immediately followed by one of those teenage boy "Oh God, oh God, don't make it obvious.  Just look up at her face.  Look up at her face!" moments.  This all flashed by in miliseconds, but it was highly amusing to witness.