Championable | Love, parenting, politics.

<seethe>

Dammit.

A client calls with an emergency job.  It’s animated sequence that needs to be done overnight.  Offsite.   One of our people can do it…but his computer is broken.  We give him one of ours.  In fact, we give him my Recruiter’s MacBook.  It was her idea.  Very generous.  Very “anything-to-get-the-job-done.  We tell the guy doing the job that it needs to be done by morning.  We ask him if he’ll be accessible by email since his phone’s not working.  He says yes.  I configure a new account on the laptop for him, and he leaves.

Night comes.  The sun rises.  A new day.

9am. 10am.  Nothing.  the client is nervous.  We are nervous.  Where is he?  We try the substitute phone numbers.  Nothing.  10:30.  Zip.  We  leave many emails.  11am.  12pm.  The client terminates the job.  Most likely, the client terminates our relationship, too.  12:15.   12:30.

Richard I’m sorry  the Keychain did not work I had to reboot and
couldn’t get back in SORRY I’m on my way!

Um.  The “keychain” is a Mac access control program.  I’m pretty sure he didn’t follow the directions I left for him on a sticky on the computer.  We specifically discussed the Keychain before he left.   So that’s ridiculous.  Admittedly, it’s LESS  fucking ridiculous than saying “I couldn’t get back in.”  The password on his account was his first name.  I told him this, and it was also on the sticky in quesion.  Which is ALSO less ridiculous than the fact that he didn’t call me.

My number is listed.  My cell number is on our outgoing voicemail.  And he always calls my cell by MISTAKE when he means to call my office phone.  So I know that he knows that I have a fucking cell.  The number of which is on the machine.  Did I say that already?

What the fuck is wrong with people?

</seethe>

Love to all.  Even you, Roy.

I love you, blogworld. I really do. But this crosses the line.

“Crosses.” Right. This more than crosses the line. This SPRINTS across the line, runs another 100 or 200 yards, and then says, “Hey, LINE! Go fuck yourself!”

Then, this moons the line.

Windows laptop, indeed.

Weren’t you with me for the great Dell Fiasco of 2004? Didn’t you suffer through the HP Depression of 2005?

Yes, I’m selling a lot of Mac equipment. It’s true. But ‘m only doing it to get MORE, BETTER, Mac equipment.

Here’s the math:

• I bought the 17-inch laptop with my Developer Discount. I get one a year. I love the machine, but it’s really heavy (when you commute 2 hours a day, not including about 1 hour of walking), and the High Density monitor is actually hard on my eyes. Read: I’m getting fucking OLD. I should be able to sell it for around $2400, with is pretty much a breakeven, and $1300 less than what it would cost new (what a deal!) without the developer discount.
• The 12-inch laptop hasn’t been in service for about 8-months. I just haven’t got around to selling it. According to eBay prices, I should get around $400.00.
• The G5 - well, that’s a mystery. The thing is flawless, operationally, but the handles/case are dented. I’m putting a spread of between $600 and $1099 on that one.

Likely, then, selling this equipment will leave me with about $3400. With this, I need to get a replacement laptop and desktop. I should be able to trade the above equipment for:

• A refurbished Quad-Xeon 2.Ghz Mac Pro and
• A refurbished 15.2-inch Core 2.2 Ghz MacBook Pro

And still have a few dollars left over for extra RAM. Or a cheap Dell for Accounting.

Okay. I feel much better that we’ve cleared the air on these things. I hope you do, too.

Love to all. Even you, ITS.

One dual 2.3 Ghz G5 in fantastic operating condition (but a seriously dented case) one 12-inch PowerBook G4, One 17-inch Core 2 Duo (frighteningly maxed out).

All going on sale tomorrow night.

Bring it on, eBay.

Love to all. Even you, Adzam Motors.

The anti-drama of electronic triggers. Push a button here, things happen there. Less than a video game, with zero feedback. Insert {obsolete} before the word “tactile” in the next edition of your favorite dictionary. It’s all in the brain.

Push a button there, open floodgates here.

I left a voice mail on my brother’s phone - first contact in four years, letting him know that I sent him a letter, but that I didn’t know if he still lived at the same address. (He always said he was waiting until he could buy a 10,000 square foot house - yup, that’s correct - before he would move… and my Aunt thought that he did, in fact, do just that.) I also said that we missed him and would love to say hi. Never heard back.

I sent my parents an email during the CA fires, saying that if they needed to escape East, or needed anything at all, to just call me. They live in Santa Clarita, which was pretty much the center of the Buckweed Incident. Never heard back… although in their case, I didn’t really expect to.

Yesterday, Maggie was telling me how frustrating it was for her 19-year-old boss at work to say “no” when she asked if she could leave work early. She had volunteered to monitor a section our town’s main street, where kids were painting the store windows for Halloween. I should have just listened, and I DID listen, but what I was thinking was: 1) Well, now you know why I get frustrated when you would ask me to come home from work early a couple of times a month, 2) You shouldn’t have assumed it was canceled, and brought your shit with you in the car, 3) If you hate the job, quit. Now, I admit that there’s internal pressure here, too… when I know that Maggie needs to stuff done, I feel compelled to drop everything and come home. That’s my own problem, I know. I just sometimes think she doesn’t understand how unusual it is.

I’m going through a big adjustment period with my oldest. I can’t abide by sulking or backtalk, and it seems to be a major component of what he’s doing these days. I’m very bad at sitting at the dinner table while he skulks.

My company has hit a million dollar run-rate (sales, not gross profit), and I can’t quite pay myself yet. It’s weird to build something somewhat successful, and still not be able to make money. Right now, I can pay my employees, our health insurance, and 100% of our operating costs. It all is coming down to how long I can hold out as this thing grows. Pressure, pressure, pressure. One major suck factor is that the more stress I’m under, the more I feel like I can’t act in that happy way that keeps things growing. Catch-22.

Tomorrow, at 10am, Maggie and I are meeting with a financial advisor to begin the assessment process… can we afford to live where we live? Can we afford to move? Argh.

I need to try and get a decent night’s rest.

Love to all. Even you, John Harvey, Branch Manager.

FartyPants McGEE.
FartyPants McGOO.
FartyFartyFartyPants and
I.
Love.
You.

Thank you, Cleveland! GOOD NIGHT!

* * *

Love to all. Even you, the woman who just nuked our quarter.

The whole family went to a benefit tonight for Materials for the Arts, a public/private organization (run by the city, with additional private funding) that boosts all kinds of art programs: for schools, 501c3s, more. One of Maggie’s best friends is on the board.

They had amazing face painters. You tell them “nice” or “spooky” and they paint you. Can you tell which I chose?

Love to all. Even you, the woman who could make or break our quarter.

It’s not that life is so bad. It’s not. In fact, it’s pretty much fantastic. My daughter rocks my world. My boys are near-perfect examples of what it means to be (knock on wood) healthy, smart, smart-ass 6- and 11-year olds…  Maggie and I are as committed as ever.
It’s just challenging right now. The business is teetering… and I really can’t tell if we’re going to be able to stay open. We’ve had a series of crappy events happen that have kicked the legs out from under our growth pattern, and I’m feeling worried.

This post, the one you’re reading right now, has been written in three-word snipetts over the last three days.  Posting Loserville, NY.

Money, money, money.  Maggie and I have such different approaches to how to address our current situation that it’s causing ongoing problems.  And while it may not be out in the open… that background tension is there, swimming close to the surface.

Yesterday, I was describing my business / home financial situation to a friend , and he was like:  “Well, you’re still smiling.”

I said: “Dude, that’s just how I’m wired.”

Step, step, step.

Love to all.  Even you, the lady who shouldn’t have taken that meeting.

Maggie was working the 5:30am - 10am shift today, so it was just me and the three microunits, about to head out to my daughter’s 9am soccer practice.  Just before we were to leave, my oldest came running into the house, crying.  He’d been stung by 3 or 4 bees, including one in the face.

Ah, swelling.

After finding that we were out of Benadryl, I made some icepacks, snuck out to the car to move it away from the nest, came back to the house, got the kids, and took them all to Rite-Aid to get some Benadryl.  While I was there, I also bought two bee-killing death sprays.

Normally, I’m all about peace ‘n shit… but hurt my kids, and I become a Bee Killing Machine.  I’m sorry.  Especially when he didn’t step on the nest.  He was merely within 10 feet.  Those fuckers get no quarter from me.

Love to all.  Even you, the parking lot drag racer.

I spent over two hours working on my U10 girls’ practice. Last week we focused on “finishing.” Tomorrow we were going to focus on “spacing.” Today, I just found out that my girls have professional trainers. This means that I get to half-watch, half-participate, and my girls’ get a decent-at-best, generic soccer practice.

Bleah.

I really enjoy the challenge of planning a practice that’s fun, challenging, and can keep the attention of 12 8-year-old girls. This year, I’ve only gotten to run ONE practice out of five. Twice practice was canceled because of field availability, once we had trainers, and once I got to run practice.

Ah, well.

Anyway: my oldest wants to show me the backyard skate park he wants me to get him (um… um…), so I have to run.

Love to all. Even you, the lady who hit my car and wasn’t going to say anything until she realized I was standing right next to her.

This is the text of a note I sent to an ex-potential client.

*  *  *

Okay. I have to be honest, here:

This was the second most disingenuous thing I have experienced in 14 years in staffing. Actually, it might even be the winner. I have to sleep on it. There’s no nifty plaque, though, so I guess it doesn’t really matter all that much.

But seriously:

Many times, we have negotiated agreements with potential clients before placing a job. On rare, rare occasion, we have not been able to work with a potential client because the terms the company required were unworkable for us. That was their right, of course, and we would never hold them in ill regard for setting their own standards, regardless of whether we agreed with them. That would be silly.

However: [Your Company] signed a legal contract, inducing us to believe certain things were true, and then attempted to replace the contract with terms that were exceptionally harsh, contradictory, with the adherence thereto being inherently and structurally impossible.

Why would [Your Company] execute a legal contract that it clearly had no intention of honoring?

Why would [Your Company] sign a contract on 10/16, then attempt to replace it with something completely different and classically-inappropriate on 10/17?

Our employees are good human beings whose time and talents should be valued. [My employee] was VERY excited about working with you. This assignment was perfect for her. You told me specifically that:

“She’s a great find. We might have work for her beyond this assignment. I’ll keep you posted.”

Now, because of this unprincipled behavior, she doesn’t have any work at all.

I need to remind you that we will hold you to the contract executed by [Your Comptroller] on 10/16/2007. Do not attempt to hire any of the people that we submitted to you (by hire, I mean directly, indirectly, freelance, perm, contract, etc… see your fully executed agreement for details), until the 1-year exclusivity period has passed, or we will pursue you for the full permanent placement fee, regardless of the duration of the violation in question. Or, if you so choose, you can stick to the contract which you already signed, and bring [My Employee]/[My Company] on board in the manner we have already discussed.

That would be karmically kick-ass, at this point.

If any recipient of this email would like to take the time to tell me why [Company] executed the contract in the first place, it would really be helpful, if only from an academic standpoint. I just don’t get it. And I’m sorry it worked out liked this.

Anyway: best of luck to you, and all success.

* * *

Love to all. Even you, [Your Company].