work

Dancing about editing

All morning, there was little doubt in my mind that today was, in fact, a Monday. It had all the earmarks of one, all the dreary little annoyances that go into making it the quintessentially least fun day of the week. For one, it was raining. Then, when I got to my station, they announced a track change — only to announce another change, back to the original track, after we’d all climbed up and back down the stairs that the divide the two. They’ve done this before — they meaning the Long Island Railroad — as recently as this past November. Switching us back and forth, in the cold and the rain of the early morning, and all the while claiming to be running “on time” when in fact running five to ten minutes late.

When I got to Penn Station, I had to wait in line to purchase my monthly ticket for March, since for some strange reason that starts tomorrow. (We’re sure this isn’t a leap year?) There had been some mix-up with my new transit program at work: I get a card with the full amount, only it was just under the full amount, so the machines at the station wouldn’t recognize it as valid. I got this squared away on Friday (after I got home, to my own station where you can only by daily tickets), but they couldn’t increase the amount on my card until next month. So I had to wait on line for a teller, give him twenty-four dollars in cash, and then pay the balance with what was on the card.

I naturally picked the slowest line. But at least next month I can just use the card at the machine at my convenience. (After the twentieth, of course, when the new monthly tickets become available.)

Anyway, after that it was just a normal day at work. I did finally manage to have my job performance review with my boss, and I think it went well. Overall, I quite like my job, and overall I think they’re happy to have me. We discussed the projects I’ve been working on, the ones currently in the mix, and a few new texts that might benefit from developmental work in the near future. With luck, my red pen (and occasionally blue pencil) and I should be pleasantly busy for the foreseeable future.

Though I’m sorry to say, I didn’t follow Heather‘s advice and give my performance review in interpretive dance. An hour’s talk with my boss was, though pleasant, nerve-wracking enough. And trust me, I’ve seen the both of us dance, and it would not have gone over well.

Clean sweeps

One thing led to another today — or, rather, failed to — and I ended up not having my performance review. Hey, there’s still Monday, right? It’s not like I’m the one who’s had to put it off.

I spent a lot of the day cleaning, this being another clean-up day at the office. I stripped the walls of my cubicle bare, which makes it look more than a little sad, and separated the stuff I’m taking to the new office from the stuff I’m taking home. (We’ve been told we’ll of course be allowed to personalize our work stations a little, but I think that extends mostly to it being the work station that has us, and not somebody else, sitting in it.)

Meanwhile, the building itself is starting to fall apart on us, first all three printers on our floor — today, I think a toner cartridge actually exploded — and now the tile in the men’s room, which is falling in broken shards from the wall. It’s like the House of Usher, or a dreamscape that’s crumbling as we all begin to stop believing in it.

No big plans for the weekend. Some reading, some writing, some TV — same old, same old.

Mr. Clean

I spent the day mostly helping with our clean-up at the office, throwing away old correspondence, proposals, and other unnecessary minutiae from our files (in preparation for our move April 1). Of course, we also found lots of wonderfully odd and sometimes necessary minutiae, like checks written to Bruce Springsteen (for song permission fees) or a proposal apparently about owning and operating a taxi cab in London. (We get lots of weird proposals, sometimes even from otherwise perfectly normal authors, but this was in our Active Files drawer, had apparently been in there for quite some time, and none of us had ever seen it before.) We’ll hopefully finish up with the files tomorrow, pare down further what we can send off to storage — the new office will, as I think I’ve said, have practically no file room — and go through the weirdly named, anything-could-be-in-there Miscellaneous drawer. Then it’s just a question of consolidating everything so they know what to take with us and what to store.

The clean-up day, which as I say continues tomorrow, was about as much fun as you might expect, and more fun that you’d expect, mostly given those unexpected discoveries. (I also generally like my co-workers, so that’s always good.)

And I think I may actually finally have my year-end (2010) performance review. I e-mailed my boss to ask if he wanted to schedule it, since HR had said Monday was the deadline, and it looks like we’ll sit down for a chat tomorrow afternoon. A chat, hopefully, full of heaping praise for my work and exciting, interesting, and moreover entirely reasonable goals for the new year.

Wednesday

You know that snow I was grumbling about over the weekend? The majority of it, at least on this (somewhat sunnier) side of the street has already melted.

I spent the day mostly reading a manuscript on animal-assisted therapy and wondering when and if I’m actually going to have my year-end performance review. Technically, we’re already two months into the new year, and technically the whole process has to be finished by Monday at the latest. But, beyond mentioning it a couple of times in passing, my boss hasn’t suggested a specific time.

Tomorrow and Friday are clean-up days at the office, in preparation for the move in April. We basically won’t have any wall space, possibly no real bookshelves, and very little file space to speak of. (But lots of natural light!) So I think I’m going to need to part with a few more of the books on my shelf. Still, some I really do need to hold on to, since I do refer to them. If nothing else, maybe I can build my own cubicle walls out of piles of books…

Wednesday various

  • What It’s Like to Work for Donald Rumsfeld. You really do expect him to close with, “And has everybody signed Debbie’s birthday card? Invade Iraq and then ice cream cake in the break room at three!”
  • Why Nielsen Ratings Are Inaccurate, and Why They’ll Stay That Way. Frankly, it’s amazing any television of quality gets made, ever. [via]
  • Tyranny of the Alphabet. All these years, my last name beginning with C, and I was apparently the unknowing beneficiary of reverse-alphabetism. This is sort of similar to something Malcolm Gladwell has suggested, namely that being born after the first three months of the year significantly limits your success in life. Gosh, three letters into the alphabet, only three months into the year — I should be President by now!

    Though seriously, those of you with last names further along down the chain of letters than me: did it affect you in school, or your current psychological outlook? [via]

  • Speaking of Malcolm Gladwell, the Malcolm Gladwell Book Generator. (Also, this xkcd comic. The rollover text is particularly amusing.) [via]
  • And finally, When Should I Visit? It’s the reverse-Foursquare, finding the least busy times to visit museums, galleries, theaters, etc. By the site’s own admission, it’s only somewhat accurate, pulling data only from Foursquare users, and exclusive to London. But I am amused by the idea of “use[ing] Foursquare to learn how to avoid Foursquare users.” [