Momentous Occasion

Today is a big day.

"But why, Sunny?" you surely must be asking. "Why is today so big?"

I'm glad you ask.

Today is a big day, because today is the last day of freedom for one of my very dear friends.

That's right - Tomorrow, the Corporate Workforce will be one Wonderful Northern Woman stronger.

However, it will also be the day that another graduate of my Alma Mater leaves our beloved state for greener pastures. And that gives me pause. (And pouts. But mostly pause.)

Sure, I could make her a present with my two hands. But that process takes forever, and I still haven't even gotten through her Christmas gift. By the time I finish that and get it to her, and then make something else to commemorate this exciting day, she will have quit this job, and the one she got after it, and be living in a yurt taking care of a generously-sized herd of dog-e-beests** with her Hubsters. And today is just too important for that.

So, I'll be crafting something of a different sort: The Sunny Smiles Guide to Not Ripping Your Hair Out in CorporateLand.

So without further ado... this one's for you dearheart. Give 'em hell.

* Greet yourself with a bright, sincere smile every morning when you look in the mirror. Corporate peoples can, on occasion, be snobbish little snots... so it might be the only friendliness you encounter during your day.

* Opportunities are everywhere. Always always always say yes when given a task - you never know when you might get a trophy for being the awesomest at filing.

* Only talk about what you would feel comfortable hearing about within office walls. No one wants to be That Coworker, who is avoided in the hallway because of a difficult case of oral diarrhea.

* Don't be afraid to employ a popular office-place tactic to make friends with your coworkers: The candy dish. There's nothing like bonding in the name of snacks.

* Lunchtime is a treat. Make sure to step away from your desk and spend at least twenty minutes doing something entirely different from what you are employed to do. While being devoted to your job is wonderful, and while it may seem difficult to break away during the early days of your employment, I assure you that you don't want to gain a reputation as That Girl Who Will Give Up Her Lunch Altogether Because Some Idiot Screwed Up Their Deadline. Helping is wonderful... but don't set yourself on the road to burnout immediately. Besides - lunch is yummy.

* Use headphones if music is essential to your workplace endeavors. As much as you may love Sir MixALot, your neighbor might think he's the stupidest musician ever, and I don't want to come to a funeral with the headline "Young Up-And-Comer Dies in Brutal Pen Stabbing."

* Check behind you before you dance. Copy room... Break area... Your cubicle... These are all totally danceable spaces, but if someone walks up behind you when you're busting a move, you're liable to look more like you're covertly dealing with a wedgie instead of expressing your inner ballerina.

* Kiss your special someone every night as soon as you get home. Don't immediately launch into stories about how your hellacious day really sucked (or about how your epic day beat the socks off of every other workday in the history of time). Remember that you are both people with important duties, and that your relationship is important to nurture, too.

* BUT, don't feel like work must stay at the workplace. If you're upset, talk about it. That way you'll have an explanation for why you yelled at the dishwasher for making a funny sound. It's also justification to devour a guiltless pint of Chunky Monkey for dinner.

* Eat healthy as often as you can. Yes, pizza is delicious... but if it makes you smell funny, try to save it for special occasions (like your first Friday-after-a-long-workweek). You will spend your first month making first impressions... Don't let them be stinky ones.

* Stretch whenever you get the chance. Some offices have a daily stretching regimen. It can be a time to bond with your coworkers. While you work out the kinks from sitting ergonomically for such extended periods of time, see if everyone can share a (clean, suitable-for-work) joke or piece of trivia.

* Treat three-hole-punchers with care. All it takes is one misguided tug of the catch-tray to send those obnoxious little chips flying all over the place... And then you have to vacuum, which sucks.

* If you find yourself in the enviable position of having a lunchroom that is frequented by the Snack Fairy, please indulge. But indulge cautiously. It's wonderful to enjoy a special treat in the heart of a bonding moment with fellow snacky-coworkers. But it's not so wonderful to be That Girl Who Lurks In The Lounge Waiting For Her Next Free Nom.

* Clean your desk before you go home every night. It not only gives you a fresh start every morning (and a chance to make sure you didn't miss any immediate-action items that may have landed on your desk), it also gives the Office Pixies a place to dance during the night. And if there's anyone whose good side you want to be on... It's those Pixies.

* Leave notes with any paperwork you abandon on a coworker's desk. While they might know exactly what gift you're leaving them, there is always the possibility that they're having a suck-tastic day and that one little report will push them over the edge into insanity. That's what post-its are for - jot a quick message about what you're leaving and why... And sign it. That way, when they lurch over the edge into oblivion, you'll be safe from certain death at their rage-addled hands.

* E-mail your friends and loved ones often, to make sure they know you haven't forgotten them. While this is the first step in a tremendous journey for you, it is a difficult step for them as well.  They love you bunches, and great crocodile tears are leaking all over the place as you spread your wings.

Much love, S.S. <3

** Kind of like wildebeests, but smaller and more snuggly.

Glitter on the Inside

Happy New Year, oh Friend of the Reader Persuasion!

I hope your holiday was fantastic and full of fun. Whether you lit a menorah, trimmed a tree, regarded an aluminum pole or celebrated in another fashion entirely, I hope your days held all the beauty and awesomeness that the end of the year can bring.

In addition, I hope you got totally tanked over New Years and started the year doing something fantastic – like locking lips with a local beauty who you would never have had the nerve to approach. Or perhaps streaking down Main Street. Whatever suits your fancy.

As we ring in 2012, I can assure you that there are a host of New Years posts populating the Blogosphere talking about “changes” and “new beginnings” and all that jazz. And you know what?

That sounds like a plan to me.

The New Year *is* a time of new beginnings. It’s a time to use old traditions to make a new start for a new segment of your life. And perhaps the most popular New Years tradition – outside of Excessive Alcohol Consumption or Public Displays of Affection – is the New Year’s Resolution.

Now, I live with a New Year’s Naysayer. Yes, it’s true… Boyfriend of Amazingness is not one for the following of the New Year’s Resolution.** And, for the most part, I agree with him.

I’ve always made resolutions shortly after New Year’s. As a volunteer at a local Center of Organized Religion, I sit down with the kidets every Sunday and try to do something constructive with their time (outside of eluding the sermon and having snack). So, at the first of the year, it’s kind of a given that we’ll do Resolutions.

Since we’re following tradition, there’s a certain protocol we follow:

1)      Arrive in class and realize that it’s the first Sunday of the New Year.

2)      Scramble around attempting to find where we “Safely Placed” last year’s resolutions.

3)      Find the old resolutions and distribute them to the troopers.

4)      Read through old Resolutions – hilarity ensues.

a.       Spelling

b.      Artwork

c.       Weird resolutions that were achieved

d.      Conventional resolutions that were not achieved.

5)      Brainstorm as a group for new resolutions.

6)      Distribute construction paper and Colorful Writing Instruments to kidlets.

7)      Assist with spelling.

8)      Offer guidance to kidlet who insists that her only resolution is to talk to the boy she has a crush on.

9)      Offer suggestions to kidlet who insists that he’s “too old for this baby stuff.”

10)   Share new resolutions.

11)   Put “Somewhere Safe.”

12)   Eat Snack.

Despite its outward appearance, it really is a fun process. Watching the kids see what they created a year ago, realize how they’ve grown, and move forward a year older is an inspiration. (Because if I tell myself that often enough, I won’t feel old as I regard their fresh young faces and realize that I was an adult before they were even born.)

It’s also a chance for me to exercise a little childlike optimism of my own.**1

There’s something liberating about sitting down with a blank sheet of construction paper and a fresh pack of crayons to create something lasting… Like a list of things to try not to screw up over the next twelve months.

Popular resolutions of my own have included:

*Remember the location of these resolutions on New Year’s Sunday

*Clean more often

*Eat at home for less than $15 a meal

*Start yoga classes

*Make more time for family

But while these resolutions were fun and exciting, I usually ended each year with a list of things that left me feeling as though I had wasted twelve months of my life not accomplishing some very basic tasks.

Sure, there were always resolutions I completed. I did find time to visit my family. I do clean when I have time, and sometimes when I’m really not hungry, I can save an entire meal’s worth of money by just having a peanut butter sandwich.

But one can definitely see where BoA is coming from. New Year does not equal Prepared To Conquer All Inner Shortcomings.

So instead of creating a big long list of goals I wouldn’t realize last year, I decided to try a different route.

I could focus my energies on lots of little endeavors, or I could focus on one really big, really important aspect of my life.

So that’s what I did.

Last year, I resolved to Follow my Bliss.

What does that mean? It meant doing whatever made me the most happy. Some days, that was sitting on the couch with a bag of potato chips and a Disney movie marathon. Some days, that was dance workshops. Some days, that was writing. And some days, I would indulge in a nice sulk. Sometimes I would even cry.

But at the end of the year, I was a happier person. Making decisions because I was on a conscious mission to increase my personal happiness led me to have one of the most positive years of my life.

(Don’t worry, I’m almost done being a sap. Sit tight.)

So as this year drew to its inevitable close, I spent more than a little time worrying about what new commitment I should make to a Better Sunny in 2012. Following my Bliss is a life choice. It’s not something I did for a year and will now move on from – It’ll be a permanent part of who I am because I was able to devote a full twelve months to make it part of who I wanted to be. Looking back, I had no idea of the impact it would have. Looking forward, it scares the snot out of me to think what my next decision might be.

But, after much deliberation, I settled on one I thought I might be able to stick to.

(One that will rock Boyfriend of Amazingness’ socks, because he thought I had picked one very different from what I’m about to tell you. Or, at least, phrased differently. Don’t worry, honey – I promise not to go nuts.)

For 2012, I will attempt to follow one goal:

Share your Sunshine.

2011 had its ups. 2011 had its downs. Tumultuous would be a great way to describe it, but sounds a little more negative than I would like. Maybe “exciting” would be a better word to convey the changes and adjustments and fantastic new turns that popped up in the road.

But there were times throughout the year when – while I was still focused on following happiness – I forgot what happiness I had right then. I would get wrapped up in stress, or sadness, or anger, or stress (think that might be a big one?) and forget that I’m Sunny for a reason. I have sparkles inside that are meant to be shared. Sparkles that are easily smushed by negative emotions. Sparkles that wants desperately to escape. Sparkles just waiting for me to let go of that pent-up breath, so they can ride the Peppermint Breeze to freedom.

So, ReaderFriends – How will you share your sparkle this year?

**A fact he makes up for tenfold in his application of beer and kisses. So really it all comes out in the wash. Isn’t life grand? :)

**1 Because, you know, I do that so infrequently.

Ps & Qs

Learning manners is a very tricky process.

As a Young Wanter, you have to go through a progression of being impolite – and being the brunt of impoliteness – in order to learn that people respond more positively to pleasant requests for assistance than they do to demands.

How many times have you (as a Seasoned Giver, a Young Wanter or a bystander) witnessed this exchange:

Wanter: “I want [a cookie/a pony/some other desirable noun]!”

Giver: “How do you ask?”

Wanter: begrudgingly “PUH-LEEEEEEZE.”

If the Seasoned Giver is astute, they will phrase their request politely in order to set a positive example.  For instance, “Could you please ask nicely?” would garner a more expedient reaction, I would think, than a demand for good manners. In the strictest sense, it would be ironic**1 to demand the use of polite manners. But the main point here is that many Young Wanter-hood wishes are met not with the giving of the desired item, but with a response requesting the application of some manners. Only once these manners are interjected does the process begin of garnering what one sought in the first place.

As the Young Wanter begins to age, Seasoned Givers need no longer moderate the requests that escape their offsprings’ lips. The Young Wanter begins taking it upon themselves to ask nicely from the very start in order to avoid unnecessary conversation with adults. Indeed, a “May I please borrow the car?” will get you out the door to your booze-fueled orgy in a much more timely manner, and without as many pesky questions about Purpose of Travel and Intent to Return. It’s almost safe to say that Seasoned Givers ask more questions if you’re impolite, just to create greater inconvenience.

So it stands to reason that, in some time during conception and graduation, most Young Wanters**2 come into contact with and learn the proper application of manners in family, social and educational/professional settings.

 

And that’s where I get confused.

Seasoned Givers seem to have a grasp of manners, in order to train their spawn in the Polite Ways of the Universe. Young Wanters seem to have a basic understanding as well, in order to escape their Seasoned Givers’ incessant nagging. Somewhere along life’s path, it stands to reason that approximately 85% of the world would have found themselves in a situation where being impolite just wasn’t an option.

So where have all of the miscreants that litter the world come from?

The number of individuals within professional establishments who are unable to request things with even the most sarcastic, curmudgeonly shmear of politeness is mind boggling.

As a small smattering of examples:

“I need you to take care of [verb].”

 For instance: “I need you to take care of placing that order.”

“I need [noun].”

 For instance: “I need Post-Its.”

“[Verb, barked as a monosyllabic order].”

For instance: “Help.”

Sometimes, I’m sure these are meant to be requests for assistance instead of demands for action. Busy schedules can get in the way of manners, as can stressful deadlines, and it behooves one to act expediently and deal with the fallout later.

But, more often, I think that this behavior continues because it is justified by the individuals who allow it to take place.

Think about it:

As a Young Wanter, how often did you receive That Which You Desired if you didn’t apply the appropriate layer of politeness to your request? 20% of the time was my top percentage. Those were times when either A) my Seasoned Givers were busy and wanted me out of their hair; B) I was being monitored by an only-slightly-older-than-me individual who didn’t care what I did or how I acted so long as she got her $20, or C) I was pitching a tizzy to my grandparents. And even in these instances, I only had about a 50% success rate. On a normal day, under normal circumstances, I didn’t get anything I requested impolitely… And outright demands were only met with a warming of my posterior. No chance in hell that I would get what I wanted if I didn’t shine up my niceness and put it to good use.

And yet, as an adult, this behavior of “Demand and You Shall Receive” is not only acceptable… It’s almost expected.

When working with a Polite Asker and a Grumpy Demander, whose project are you more likely to hurry off your plate so a difficult individual will get out of your hair?

The Grumpy Demander. No question.

When face with a “Could you please” and a “Get it done,” which will you tackle first to avoid unnecessary Strife?

The “Get it done.” Again, no question.

Again and again, instances arise where the Nice Guy is pushed to the back burner in order to “handle” the pushy, negative, and rude individuals that plague society.

And all because, as an adult, it’s “Impolite” to request manners from peers.

 

But don’t think I don't try.

 

**1 - Ironic: eye-RON-ick [adj] See: Parenting.

**2 – Not all. Some are raised by heathen Seasoned Givers, or by wildebeests.

Seriously?!

Really, ReaderFriends?

Really?!

It's been three weeks today since my last post.

THREE WEEKS!

And you didn't say anything!

It's like I'm not talking to anyone.

Or, conversely, I'm talking to a bunch of people who are worried they'll frighten me away with feedback.

Yeah... let's go with that.

SO... We've moved!

We're safely in our new location. I have a new cubicle, far from the madness of my former life.

And it's fantastic.

No, for realsies.

I have four walls, that go all the way up. I can tippy-toe and see over them, but I'm not a rat in a cage on display for my coworkers to antagonize. And I love it.

I have neighbors who whisper their conversations in an attempt not to interrupt my work and what I'm trying to get done. They speak on the phone as if they're normal people. They don't yell, they don't cuss* and they treat each other with respect.

And when I say each other... I mean me, too.

I've gotten more work done in the last two weeks than I had in months. I'm caught up (almost entirely, except for the stuff that just came in) on my invoicing, I'm caught up on my typing and I'm getting a handle on the record keeping that's been hanging over my head since before I started as an administrator for this company.

It's fabulous!

However, things are going so well and I'm staying so busy that it's been hard to keep up with writing. So I wanted to send you this.

In my free time, I've been working in a very sexy production of a classic Christmas ballet. It's helped me both to bolster my self confidence by working with people who make me smile, and to help me keep a lid on my Christmas Spirit by keeping me in a state of moderate exhaustion throughout the Christmas season.

But it's been fabulous. Full of glitter, full of feathers and full of fun.

SO: I hope you have a wonderful holiday, ReaderFriends. I hope it's fabulous and I hope that it brings you all the sparkling things you desire.
* Not aloud, anyway. I hear they're pretty rude-and-crude people once you get to know them, but I don't hear much of anything from them. Maybe they're scared of me, too.

Load 'Em Up...

So... I guess we're moving.

(Understatement. I've known we were moving since June. It's just now that it's real.)

"Why is it only real now?" you ask?

Good question. You wouldn't know if you hadn't been here. And you weren't here (because there is almost certainly not anyone loitering under my desk), so I should tell you.
My awfice has been taken over my boxes. 

And when I say my awfice, I don't mean just my little cube-shaped slice of professional world heaven... I mean the *whole damned floor.* 

And the other floor in this building that we occupy. 

And our satellite building two miles away. 

And possibly the moon.

There are boxes *everywhere*.

Which wouldn't be so bad, I suppose. Right now they're empty, and are standing around in intimidating piles lurking in corners and empty cubicles. 

It's not the lurking boxes that bothers me, though. I'm used to them. Boyfriend of Amazingness works for a company that handles big moves, so he has some castoffs that we store things in. They're really cool - they're these huge plastic bins with interlocking plastic lids that pop right in and keep all your stuff safe and cozy inside. Like my shoes.

No, the crates themselves aren't scary at all.

What intimidates me is that they are all going to be full.

Of stuff.

In a week.

Which is terrifying.

I suppose I would be able to handle it better if I knew that everything would come out okay once we unpacked. But I don't know that at all.

In fact, all I know is that I have to load up everything in the Reception area, which includes the mailing stuff and most of our deliverable packaging and even a toolbox. 

And then there are the copy rooms, with their piles of paper and their copying goodness.

And I have to package it all and get it into crates - four high per skid, please: we must be ergonomically conscious! - for the moving company to take away.

A week from tomorrow.

I guess it's the timeline that creates the greatest of my discomfort. I left the office Monday for my stint at our new location with the other employees who already live there. I left at noon on Monday with a smile on my face and an excited gleam in my eye. (Because, let's face it - any time not spent within these confines are well spent moments indeed...) 

And when I came back Tuesday, all hell had broken loose. We suddenly had confirmation that we would indeed be moving out of our current location before Christmas. 

As in, well before Christmas.

As in, less than two weeks from the official announcement.

Tuesday was a day of meetings: Meetings with movers, coordination with employees on site, coordination with superiors off site, and a flurry of phone calls to start the process.

Wednesday I was again slated to go over to the new location. I looked forward to it with even more focus, as my coworkers had become Hell Hounds bent upon one common goal: Bringing me to my inevitable stress-riddled demise before the last crate was packed. 

So, this morning, I came in to these boxes.

Everywhere.

I thought briefly about crawling into one and hiding until the whole mess is over with... But that didn't seem feasible. There are no breathing holes, and my feet might stink.

For now, I have to go coordinate the secure storage guy who just showed up to take away my last four days of work: 

I'm not sad to see them go. Those suckers are heavy.

So I'm forging onward and trying desperately not to lose my mind. Please stay tuned for more moving fun as the next week goes by.