I was talking with a colleague today about his work.  I don't know him that well but we get along ok.  He is not an employee but rather a contractor.  I asked him if he'll want to come back for another term.  He hesitated and wasn't sure how to respond.  I told him I know he works a lot of long hours and he'll need to take that into consideration if our company decides to extend his contract.  He pointed to the stickers on the cover of his laptop.  He told me his kids put them there. It's his way to remember what is important.  Then he opened up a bit.  He works almost every evening past midnight.  He said it wasn't unusual to be called a couple of times a night.  I told him I could relate a bit to those late night, early morning calls.  Sometimes it's an irate client who will be raising hell to our execs.  It's not easy. 

He also said he tries to play with his 2 kids after dinner but sometimes he just falls asleep.  His kids just walk away when they hear him snoring.  He said he can't help fall asleep.  But he said the worse thing is when he snaps at his kids.  He'll be working and his kids will hang around him wanting to play.  He just feels horrible and very guilty afterwards.  His hands were animated as he was talking.  He looked down to his right as if his kids were right there.  

When he looked back at me he said "I set aside one night for the kids now."   I nodded in sympathy and told him  "Your family and health is more important than this contract."  He smiled.  I told him my dad worked 6 1/2 days a week when I was growing up.  I only saw him on Sunday afternoons.  I could relate to what his kids were going through. 

I hope my colleague makes the right decision.  He's an asset to our company.  But he's a more important asset to his family.

We finished our meeting at 5PM.  He ran off to another meeting while I went back to my cubicle to do more work.  The irony was not lost on me.

I don't know what to write about anymore.  I communicate better when I write.  If I have to see a psychiatrist or some counselor, I'll just bring my laptop along and exchange messages.  I wrote a draft entry but deleted it.  I just sound like some 14 yr old emo kid who can't handle life.  But I do feel strangely vulnerable and insecure.  Maybe it's just stress.  My stomach has been acting up today.  I just took a pill so I could sleep.  I'm tired of sleeping between 2 and 3 AM and waking up around 6.  Sometimes it takes me an hour to get out of bed. 

So to help with my writer's block.  What would you like me to write about?  Should I make up a story about you?  Give me some ideas. 

I am behind reading your entries and responding to your comments.  I hope the Xanga gods will understand.

I sometimes roll my eyes when I listen to people at work.  I prefer to keep my vocabulary simple and straightforward.  But I am conversant with my company's corporate language.  Here's an imaginary conversation.

*****

Bob:  Matt, if you want to make these changes then you need to interlock with Mary, Jeff and Mark.  By the way, Jeff is dotted line to Mark. 

translation:  you need to get agreement with Mary, Jeff and Mark.  Jeff doesn't report directly to Mark but takes direction from Mark.  The dotted line is what it would look like in an organizational chart. 

Matt:  That sounds good but as you know getting time on their calendars is not easy. 

Bob:  That's true, what you should do is socialize this with their Jason first.  He works very closely with Mary and Jeff and understand their priorities and should be able to help.

translation:  meet with Jason first to discuss the changes I would like to make.

Matt:  Ok, I'll do that.  By the way, I wanted to let you know that Bill from sales has been driving me nuts on his SAP proposal.  His analysis is incomplete, the presentation is a mess and he simply reused an earlier proposal from a deal he lost.

Bob:  You're not the first to complain about this.  As you know we missed our targets for 2 straight quarters so this drives behaviours that you normally won't see.  Is the value prop clear?

translation:  we're under a lot of pressure for revenue which is why Bill is acting like an idiot.  Value prop is Value Proposition. 

Matt: No it isn't.  I think the client will be very confused.  But Bill doesn't care, he just wants to get it out the door by the end of the week.

Bob:  I'll talk to Bill.  I know the client escalated this issue to the VP.  They wanted this proposal urgently.

translation:  the client complained to the Vice President about the delay in getting the proposal delivered.

Matt: I'll do what I can to help.  Here's the pricing that Bill put together, you'll need to review it.

Bob:  You're right, we need to make some major changes.  The optics is not good.  They've already complained twice about our high prices.

translation: The client will have a very negative view or perspective (optics) on the price in the proposal. 

*****

Is your work like this too?

I want to know more about you.  You can answer as many questions as you want.  Or save it for a future entry.

1.  What makes you happy and how do you stay happy?

2.  Do you think there will be a day when you'll stop blogging altogether?  What would cause that to happen? 

3.  What would you like to do differently to better yourself?

4.  What's something you're really scared of?

5.  What's one thing about you that fellow bloggers may not know?

Despite the obvious signs of gentrification in my 'hood, it is still a high crime area.  There are murders and robberies - just like any large metropolitan city.  Tonight, I was reminded of how my beautiful neighborhood with its galleries, restaurants, pubs, shops (clothing, pets, cards, books, furniture, bags / knapsacks) can clash with the seedier side of life.  I was walking home carrying my groceries when I noticed people scurrying about in the street corner ahead of me.  I was still a bit of a distance away and was only thinking about getting home.  As I got closer, I noticed one guy started to slump down against the wall while two others were trying to figure out what to do.  A man rushed out of a restaurant with a table cloth.  Another man from the restaurant was on the street corner with his cell phone talking animatedly.  By this time, the man was lying on the sidewalk. 

As I crossed the street, I noticed the man on the sidewalk was bleeding badly.  One man knelt over him with the tablecloth pressed against the wounded guy's abdomen.  I put my groceries down to see what I could do.  The restaurant staff came out with more towels and a bucket of ice.  The man pressing against the wound told the guy to turn over so he could check his back.  I could see a wound there but it wasn't that deep.  He told the guy to lie back down.  I asked the man administering first aid if he saw what had happened, he said no.  I grabbed one of the towels and started to see if there were any other open wounds.  I looked down at the guy.  He looked like he was used to life in the streets.  He asked if his lips was busted open.  One of the man standing said no.  I looked closer and there was 2 deep gashes.  I put some ice in the towel and told the guy I was going to put it on his lip.  He didn't say anything. 

I don't think I was there for more than 2 minutes when sirens started to wail.  I looked up and could see the police cars screaming to halt in front of us.  The 2 cops jumped out.  The man holding the tablecloth against the wound and I moved away as the police took over.  One of policeman said there was something going on down the street and he disappeared down the street.  In a blink of an eye, there were 3 or 4 police cars had crammed into the street corner.  As I walked away, I could see an ambulance screeching to the scene. 

When I got home I noticed a bit of blood on my shoes where the man had touched me as he flayed about.  I was careful when I took it off.  I got some rubbing alcohol to wipe it down but the stain won't come out.  It's an old shoe and I was going to get a new one anyways. 

Another day in the city.  Another statistic.  It wasn't me.  I'm thankful.  I hope the guy recovers and I hope guardian angels will watch over our police and our first respondents. 

I have no shame... food porn, Japanese porn (don't even ask) but the best porn is airplane porn.  I blame my dad for this.  When we were young, he would take us to the airport and watch planes land and takeoff.  I think the best place to have sex is probably just off the runways so I can double my pleasure. 

I got into our condo elevator from the parking garage with this other guy.  I don't know a lot of folks in our building.  So we nod and smile politely even though we don't really mean it.  It's a slow elevator and I just stared at the numbers as it slowly made its way up.  All of a sudden I feel something push and rub against my crotch.  This always happens to me at elevators.  The stupid dogs always like to sniff my crotch. 

"Finlay - get back here!"  The guy pulled his dog back while I politely brush the dog's head and let him sniff my hand instead. 

Only dogs find me sexy.  When I was 13 years old, I was at a friend's house.  They had some small poodle like puppy.  I was eating at the kitchen table along with my friend and his mom.  The dog comes up to me.  So I put out my hand to to pet it.  It liked my hand and decided to stand up and leaned against my hand.  So I'm sitting on the chair, talking with my friend and his mom while the dog is leaning against my left hand.  I absentmindedly started to rub the dog's chest a bit.  Before I know it, I feel something odd against my fingers.  My friend is giggling but didn't say anything.  I look down and the dog is bouncing back and forth on my hand.  At that time I didn't know what he was doing.  Then it dawned on me, he was humping on my hand! 

I stopped the hand job and tried to discreetly rejoin the conversation.  But the mom had already saw what was going on.  I just played dumb.  I had no idea how talented I was in playing dumb.  But I think that horny poodle left some scent on me permanently.  Which is why I will never want a dog.   

A couple of weeks ago, dad told me that he wanted to visit the cemetery for Mother's Day.  He has only been there a handful of times since mom passed away.  It affects him so much after each visit that he decided not to visit.  So I was surprised when he made the request.  I carefully inquired if he was up to it and he assured me that he was.  My sister and I picked up some flowers and we all piled into my car.  There was a bit of small talk on the way there but otherwise it was a quiet trip. 

When we got to the cemetery, I drove up as close to the columbarium and stopped the car (the columbarium is outdoors).  Dad was already trying to pull himself out of the car.  I quickly walked over to his side and helped him out of the car.  I held on to him (as I always do since he is not steady) and we walked about 30 feet to where mom's spot was.  Her spot is eye level so he didn't have to bend down.  He stood there and declined my suggestion to sit on the nearby bench.  I let go and gave him a bit of privacy.  My sister was already arranging and watering the flowers.  I helped my sister a bit with the flowers & went back to stand beside my father.  He said "The script is very nice." referring to the writing on mom's plaque.  "Yes it is dad, you wrote it."  He nodded. 

He looked down at the flowers we selected and watched as my sister continued to fuss over them.  It was one of the few times he didn't object to my sister taking her time.  He took a couple of steps back and looked around.  "I like this spot.  It's quiet and shady."  He looked back and noted the small reserved signs around mom's spot.  I didn't know what to say.  I hoped he remembered the spot beside mom was already reserved for him.  Finally my sister was done and we all agreed that our flowers are always the best.  He started to move and I helped him back to the car. 

During dinner, I watched him carefully for any signs of distress.  But he ate well and pronounced himself self stuffed.  I drove him home afterwards.  The peace didn't last long.  Soon he and my sis started to disagree when he should take his eye drops.  I just sighed.  I didn't need to be reminded that mom was always the glue that held us all together.

Maybe I was tired.  Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me.  Maybe it was just an illusion. 

I was reheating some soup for dinner in my microwave.  The microwave is one of these oven hood units & it sits at eye level.  It has a glass door and the door reflects part of the living room.  I have a small unit and it's also open.  I placed the bowl of soup inside, closed the glass door and reached up to press the reheat button.  Just then I saw a reflection of a shadow dart across the living room.  I quickly turned around and of course I'm just by myself.  I was surprised at my reaction.  I wasn't scared - the shadow didn't feel threatening. 

But I think I'll sleep with the lights on again tonight.  

I was working late in my dimly lit home office.  (ed note:  Matt's home office is just a desk in the corner of his condo.)  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move on the wall.  I looked over and saw this huge spider.  WTF - it was the size of a toonie!  It must have known I was looking at it because it just stopped.  I grabbed a couple of tissue and growled.  I hate killing big spiders so I have to get a bit angry first.  I slammed the tissue against the spider and pulled it back.  I slowly open the crunched up tissue and it was empty!  It must have fallen into the pile of boxes underneath my desk.  I hunted for that thing and can't find it. 

Now I can't sleep.  I have a pissed off spider looking for revenge.  I just know once I doze off, it's gonna bite me or do something nasty.  I also figured even if I somehow killed it and the body fell behind the desk, it'll turn into a zombie spider.  I really need to sleep with a gun or a can of Raid.