"It's a Job"

That's what I told Ben Monday evening when he asked how my first day at the new place went.

It's probably too early to make a definitive judgment, but I can say that after four days, while I haven't gotten any major heebie jeebies to send me screaming into the night, I haven't exactly gotten any warm fuzzies either. It's not kismet, but it is a paycheck.

I guess some of my…disappointment?…comes from the fact I'm just not seeing any passion arise—either in myself or in any of my coworkers. Feeling that spark ignite again within me was something I was sorely hoping for, and it just ain't happening.

I'm almost starting to believe that what I need isn't just a change in jobs, but rather a change in careers.

There are twelve other people in the department, but the only person I've really bonded with is one of the two other contractors. We quickly discovered that not only had we both interviewed at many of the same places prior to coming here, but our interactions with the interviewers were almost identical. It was reassuring to learn that it wasn't just me.

This is by far the largest company I have worked for—so large in fact that there isn't a single I.T. Department; there are I.T. departments. Talk about a walled-off environment! And of course even though my particular department knew we were coming on for over a week, because no one talks to anyone else (What else is new, corporate America?), nothing was ready on our first day. No access cards, no network logins, no real plan to get us productive from the beginning in spite of the urgency of this project. Four days later, we finally got network access, but our swipe cards still don't allow us to get into the areas we need to in order to do our work. Whenever we need to go into the tech room (which is often since this is where all the PC imaging for this Win7 rollout is occurring), we need to drag one of the permanent techs down the hall and away from whatever he's doing to let us in. Our supervisor is aware of the situation and has tasked someone with getting this resolved, but the sense of urgency apparently just isn't there.

Whatever.

While the department supervisor is a woman, all the other techs are guys. Very straight, and with only a couple exceptions, very Christian and very conservative. And if the choice of department decor is any indication, they're all into WWE and UFC. The desktop support area and the tech room are both covered wall to wall and floor to ceiling in huge posters of very serious looking men grimacing at each other. And while I personally don't mind spending my day looking at sweaty, half-nekkid menz, it does raise the interesting question of why do heterosexual men so love the sight of these same sweaty half-nekkid mens beating on each other? I can imagine them doing much more interesting things together. As an outsider to this "entertainment," I can only surmise there are some deep-seated psychological issues at play.

There are cameras and security everywhere at the new placeThe employee elevators, which can't even be reached without first passing through card-controlled turnstiles—turnstiles that require you to swipe out as well as in—at the building entrances, won't move even a single floor up or down without first swiping your card. And unlike some of the places I've worked that claimed to monitor employee's computer usage and internet access, I'm convinced this place actually does. (And while we finally got internet access, the placement agency website where we have to report our time is blocked. Go figger.)

So yeah, as much as I was hoping (because of the size of the organization) this would be a very similar environment to my last job in Phoenix—where, ironically, I also started as a contractor for a rollout project and ended up staying for the next seven years—it's proving to be something very different. Even if I'm invited to come on permanently at the end of my contract, based on what I've seen this first week, I seriously doubt I'm going to want to stick around.

Then again, after contracting at that job in Phoenix for a year and seeing how that place was run, I also had very strong second thoughts about going perm, but accepting their offer at the end of that contract ended up being one of the best things that ever happened to me. (Just the other night I dreamt I had reunited with my team from there and was overwhelmed with nothing less than a sense of absolute joy at seeing them all again.)

That being said, I am learning new processes and new techniques that will look good on my resume and will ultimately make me more employable in the future—should I decide to stay in this profession.

Speaking of Getting Paid…

I haz a jobz!

Obviously I'm not going to divulge too many details, but let me just say it feels damn good to know I'm going to be seeing a paycheck again!

I got a call last week from a recruiter I'd worked with about six months ago. At the time I'd interviewed with a company in the Tech Center that would've been a good fit for my skills, but the environment was basically the same as I currently found myself in and I wanted to get away from that. Instead of being the sole non-managerial tech guy at the facility, I'd be one of two. No thanks. I wanted to get back in with a bigger team. I turned them down.

Anyhow, the job that was pitched to me last week sounded great. It was with a large, well-known company (approximately the same size as the last one I worked for in Phoenix), and the number of support staff was actually a little bit higher than what I'd been a part of in Phoenix. I wouldn't be the only guy there. The commute was reasonable (even on snow days), and the pay was pretty close to what I'd been making at my last job.

Excellent!

It's just a contract to help roll out and/or upgrade about 1500 workstations by the end of the year, but that's okay. My last job in Phoenix  started out the very same way: a 3 month contract rolling out workstations that kept getting extended and extended, finally getting hired on after a year and staying for the next seven.

The only thing that literally had me shaking when I heard it was when the recruiter told me that there would be a technical test administered by the client. He said the hiring manager at the company knew from my experience that I'd be able to handle the job, but needed to cover all her bases, so that's why I had to take it. Despite all my technical experience I bomb those tests with amazing regularity and lately I was starting to believe that because of this I was basically unemployable unless I happened to stumble upon a situation where a test wasn't required. (As has been fortunately the case in all my previous endeavors.) While I obviously know my stuff (I wouldn't have been able to stay in this field as long as I have if I didn't), pulling answers out of my head to questions without having a PC in front of me to physically manipulate has always been my downfall. Always.

Anyhow, I met with the hiring manager yesterday, and praise be to the baby Jeebus—or through sheer dumb luck—the test wasn't your typical tech test. There were no "What does DHCP stand for and how does it work?" or "Please describe the function of Port 300," questions. They were along the lines of "A user comes back from vacation and their laptop cannot connect to the network. What steps would you stake to troubleshoot the problem?"

I was able to answer all the questions, and for the first time felt reasonably confident at my responses. The manager came back in, looked it over, and said she was impressed. I'd even provided a line of troubleshooting for one of the questions that she hadn't thought of! We chatted a bit more, describing the project, her department, her management style (hands-off), and it sounded very much like what I had in Phoenix—something I have sorely missed these past two years. While I work best independently with a minimum of supervision, I also crave the camaraderie that being a part of a large group provides. I told her my team in Phoenix had become like a second family to me, and she said that's the way she viewed hers. "I look forward to working with you," she said, and shook my hand.

w00t!

Before Ben left for work he told me I'd wow them so much they'd hire me on the spot. I thought he was crazy.

I start Monday, and I'm really looking forward to beginning this new chapter in my life.

I'm Getting Tired of Following the Apple Anon Community on Twitter

At first it was interesting, like you were getting a peek behind the curtain into the super-secret inner sanctum of Apple retail. Being in a pseudo "customer service" role myself, I could easily relate to a lot of the frustrations that were being voiced. But more and more it's simply turned into a bitch fest of seemingly continually drunk or high self-important Gen-Yers who are just now very reluctantly discovering—and refusing to accept—that in fact the world does not revolve around them.

You're in retail, honey. You may work for one of the most profitable and forward-thinking companies in the world, but your job is still to deal with the public. If you don't like it, do something else.

Because of this never ending parade of anon customer-bashing—not to mention the fact that the chances of me ever being called in for an actual interview are next to nil—only out of sheer desperation last week I submitted my own application to Apple. There was a time not all that long ago that I would've jumped at the opportunity to work for the company, but no longer. And it's not because of the anons' tales of  customer stupidity and assumed privilege—hell, I've been dealing with the same sort of thing in the corporate world for the last fifteen years—but rather it's the toxic attitude of some of the assholes wearing those blue shirts that has turned me off.

That being said, I'll probably get a call from them on Monday to come in…

We all gripe about work. I get that. Lord knows I've done it myself often enough on this blog, but I worry that diving into Apple retail would be very much like an extremely short-lived contract job I took at a certain hospital downtown shortly after Ben and I moved to Denver. It took me less than an hour to realize the attitudes of the other technicians on the job were beyond toxic and made working there impossible. I left after lunch that first day and never returned.

Well That Was Interesting

I had a video interview today. But it wasn't a live interview; it involved recording video responses to a canned set of interview questions.

And of course I royally screwed up the first attempt. For each question you're given three opportunities to get it the way you want it before submitting. I wasn't happy with my response to the first question, so I set about re-recording it, only to have the second attempt be marred by my phone ringing. I said "Aw, fuck!" (while still on camera) and stopped recording to get up and silence the phone, only to return and discover the "Aw, fuck!" take had been auto-submitted.

FUCK. ME.

I went ahead and completed the remaining questions and sent it off. I immediately called the recruiter and told him not to submit me and explained what had happend. "Would you like a do-over?"

Praise the baby Jeebus.

The second time went better—especially since I knew what all the questions were beforehand and could tweak my answers accordingly.

This whole job hunt is just getting weirder and weirder with each passing day. I hope that wherever I end up landing it's some place conducive to remaining until I retire (or at least until we leave this wretched city), so I don't have to go through this again any time soon.

I…I Just Can't.

I swear Teh St00pid is spreading like an unchecked cancer  across this country.

Last Friday I received an email from a recruiter:

The Desktop Support Analyst will be responsible for providing a high level of PC hardware/software support for our local and remote clients in a Windows/MAC environment and for assisting with major PC related projects (rollout of a new application, hardware/software upgrades, integrations, etc.)

We are the world's largest supplier of services, products, and solutions to industrial and commercial users of electronic components and enterprise computing solutions and growing by leaps and bounds!

 What you'll be doing:

▪   Providing PC hardware and software support for our local and remote clients.

▪   Diagnosis of PC problems via phone, remote control of desktops or desk-side visit.

▪   Provide support for Mobile Device Technology (Blackberry, iPhone, iPad, etc).

What you need:

▪   Extensive hands-on experience troubleshooting and installing PCs, peripherals and applications.

▪   Minimum of 3 years' experience supporting users via phone, remote control and desk side visits in a large multi-location corporate environment.

▪   Strong knowledge and experience with Windows 7, Windows XP, MS Outlook/Exchange, MS Office 2007

▪   Experience using remote-control software, software distribution tools (e.g. Symantec Altiris) and anti-virus & spyware tools..

▪   Experience upgrading PCs (memory, hard drive, data transfer, etc.)

▪   Maintain and update users PC asset information and experience supporting mobile device technology

▪   24×7 On-call technical support on a rotation basis and local travel when required (less than 10%)

Nice to have:

▪   5+ years supporting PC users in a multi-location corporate WAN environment with 3,000+ users.

▪   Microsoft or other technical certification or training.

▪   Bachelors degree in Computer Science, Information Technology or related discipline

▪   Experience with iOS and MacBooks

▪   Experience with encryption software such as McAfee Endpoint Encryption

What's in it for you:

▪   Competitive salary and full benefits.
- Work with one of the top-ranked solutions companies in the country
- Unlimited opportunity for growth

If you feel like this would be a great fit for you, please apply today!  You'll be glad you did!

Okay, this sounded exactly like what I'm looking for. The email had no direct link to "apply today!" so I sent the guy my latest resume.

This morning I received an email from him saying, "Please call immediately!"  Wow, I thought. This must be a hot job.

So I returned his call and it soon became apparent I was dealing with someone who wasn't running on all cylinders. He asked how much I had been making at my last job and I told him. For the life of him, he could not understand how I could be a full-time, permanent W-2 employee with benefits who was paid hourly—all but calling me a liar for claiming so. Then he asked what I was making my job previous to that one (the one I'd worked at for seven years in Phoenix). Again, he COULD. NOT. BELIEVE. I was paid on an hourly basis.  "If you work 60 hours in a week, do you get paid for 60 hours?" YES, I said. I get paid 40 hours at my regular pay and then 20 hours of overtime at time and a half. So then I tried tossing out the terms Exempt and Non-Exempt. That didn't register with him either.

This guy just didn't get it, and from there the conversation went downhill. He asked why I wasn't still working at my last position. I explained that because of the revolving door lack of leadership, too much was falling into my lap that I was unqualified for.

Because I got tired of dealing with idiots like you!

"So you were fired?"

"No, I quit."

And his response, dripping with judgment, was, "Without something else lined up? Do you think that was a wise idea?"

I swear, this is not the kind of crap I needed first thing today. When I related this to my friend Michael, he said I should've responded to him with, "It was wiser than talking to you since you clearly don't have a CLUE."

Why don't I think of this stuff while it's happening?

Anyhow, he never asked about my experience or what I actually did at any of the places I worked. Totally fixated on the wage issue, he ended the conversation by saying asking what kind of money I was looking for, "Not hourly, but as an employee."

I told him and he reluctantly said he would pass this information along to the hiring manager.

You do that, buddy. You do that.

Why Is It…

That when you're employed, recruiters only want you when you aren't, and when you're not working, they only want you if you are?

Why I Quit

This one's mostly for me, to help sort out the exact reasons why I told my previous employer to go take a hike. The reason I've been giving when asked is, "Lack of Leadership," but that's only a small part of it.

When I started at the place that will henceforth be known as Head-in-the-Sand Central, it was a godsend. We'd moved to Denver two months earlier, and while Ben had guaranteed employment secured beforehand, I had thrown my very stable and secure life up in the air to move here and despite my experience and history, had been unable to find work. After two months of filling out application after application with nothing to show for it, when I got a call from a temp agency (the same agency who'd placed me at my previous job in Phoenix that ended up lasting seven years) for this "emergency" 3-month contract position, I was literally down to my last ten dollars.

I'm starting to fear that I may be faced with that situation again, because despite submitting countless applications online, I've only managed to secure a single bonafide face-to-face interview since August—and that was an unmitigated disaster. I've had a couple very good phone interviews, one of which is supposed to be followed by a face-to-face sometime this week, but despite the number of "available" jobs, it's been pretty slim out there. What I don't understand is that my resume is almost a bullet point match for most of these positions' posted requirements—and yet I've heard nothing—other than the couple of outright rejection emails I've received. (This does not come as a complete surprise because about a year ago I got a response to one application I submitted just after we moved here.)

About the only people I have heard from are the questionable Indian placement agencies that have vacuumed my resume off the job boards that I absolutely refuse to deal with.

But back to Head-in-the-Sand Central, I had a bad feeling from the moment I walked in. But let's face it—at that point desperation had set in and I leapt at the opportunity to get back to work without even having to go through the interview process. Even when the reason for this "emergency" became clear (my predecessor had been fired the day before amid a meltdown of both their mail and file servers), I chose to ignore the warning klaxons going off in my head. Even if it was only a 3-month contract, it was a paycheck and we needed to get the hell out of that pot-infused hotel and resettled!

I came to HITSC with a set of "best practices" in place that I learned at my previous job. Nothing about the company spoke best practices of any kind, and more than once I found myself wondering, "How does this place stay in business?" There was no documentation, no inventory tracking, and next to no I.T. standards and procedures. HIPAA compliance on the desktop was laughable. "What do you mean I have to lock my workstation?"

I soon learned that not only were there approximately 20 single-purpose servers (for a company of only about 300 employees), the majority of them were aging, desktop class machines. The mail server that crashed prior to my arrival (and to this day remains tied into the system—though no longer active in that role—because no one knows all its dependencies and is too frightened to simply disconnect it outright) is a seven-year-old Dell desktop. The domain server was an 11-year old 512MB Dell desktop running Windows 2000. (That server was finally virtualized onto proper HP hardware after it crashed last summer, but they didn't want to spend the time or money to upgrade it to Server 2008, so it's still running Windows 2000.)

Okay, I thought, this stuff can be fixed. The mail server and the file server had to be replaced because of their outright failure. (There had been no reliable, trusted backup, of course.) But what I soon realized was that management had a strange attitude of not only resistance, but outright denial that anything was wrong with the existing infrastructure. Seriously?

Tom (my boss) the I.T. Director, brought in an outside consulting firm to help clean up this mess, and to their credit they came with some really good ideas. But again, the push-back from management was palpable—especially when presented with the cost of making things right.

You would think that a company lives and dies by providing reliable services that demand data integrity to outside companies would be a little more concerned that their infrastructure was held together with the digital equivalent of duct tape and chicken wire. But no! Maybe I'm crazy, but $65,000 in hardware and another few thousand in billable time to get this mess cleaned up did not seem out of line to me.

And don't even get me started on the connection between the Denver and Colorado Springs offices—supposedly a multiple T1 pipeline that has the actual throughput of a dialup connection. And they wonder why things don't work.

Anyhow, I got along well with Tom; we both were in agreement as to the critical nature of getting this disaster-waiting-to-happen cleaned up. He also convinced the company that they needed me full time to handle the day-to-day desktop support of the company (they had at one point been considering outsourcing that to the network consultants as well) and I was hired on as a full employee. The first few months went well, even if I was making significantly less money for more work than I'd been in Phoenix. I could deal with the little annoyances I encountered and much like my previous supervisor, Tom "got" me.

Needing the kind of organization to maintain my own sanity that was sorely lacking in this company, I began creating documentation for all desktop-related procedures, including the standard PC builds and general troubleshooting guides. I also brought the inventory tracking expertise I had gathered at my previous job to bear—and for the first time in what I understood was forever, the accounting department actually had everything they needed in that regard when it was time for their annual audit.

Then my boss quit. Or was forced to quit.  I don't remember the exact circumstances but I think he'd probably reached the end of his rope with upper management and their ridiculous expectations of what was to be accomplished with no resources. It was only after he left that I realized the enormous amount of stupid he was able to deflect off our department from everyone else higher up the organizational ladder and my job was never the same again. We were without an I.T. Director for six months as the people with the Os in their titles took their sweet time to make sure they got the perfect replacement.

During this time, a lot of the crap Tom had previously dealt with fell into my lap. And when the chicken-wire-and-duct-tape infrastructure started fraying, it was my fault responsibility to fix it. Thankfully the network consultants and I had developed a good working relationship at this point and I was able to call upon them for assistance, because a lot of what I had to deal with was definitely outside my skill set. Yet management asked why I wasn't able to fix this crap myself.

It's because I'm a Desktop Tech, not a Network Administrator, assholes!

It was also during this time that after receiving numerous kudos for my customer service that I started getting called out about my attitude. Little wonder, when the overwhelming impression I started receiving was the company viewed me more as a necessary evil than an asset when I couldn't fix this crap by myself.

As I tell people, I'm a Desktop Tech. I like being a Desktop Tech. It's what I do. I hope to retire as a Desktop Tech. I don't have the full skill set of a Network Administrator nor do I particularly want it. I have no desire to become a Network Administrator beyond doing basic stuff like adding/removing users and simple Active Directory maintenance. I deal with everything on this side of the wall, and the Administrators deal with everything behind the wall. All of my supervisors to date have gotten that, and in fact have fostered it. The COO and pretty much everyone else at Head-in-the-Sand Central did not. The overwhelming attitude I got from almost everyone who worked at that company was "if it plugs in, it's your responsibility."

To illustrate this, at one point someone showed up in my cube one day to tell me one of the microwave ovens in the break room wasn't working. "What do you want me to do about it?" I asked, incredulously. The response? "Well, you're I.T. aren't you?" I told her to talk to the office manager.

I'm convinced the COO—despite being able to "talk the talk" really didn't have a clue what anyone in I.T. actually did. I know for sure that after Tom left she didn't know specifically what I did. Furthermore, she didn't seem to trust anyone in tech to begin with. I don't know if she'd been continually lied to in the past or just had an untrusting nature to begin with, but after Tom's departure at one point she asked if I thought the network consultants knew what they were doing. I told her I did. It turns out she asked the same question—about me—to the network consultants! What? Did she think we didn't talk?

There's a reason that during the summer without leadership I started channeling all her emails into a folder called The Stupid, it Burns!

It was kind of rocky when they finally hired Tom's replacement, if only because once again I had to go through the whole proving myself while simultaneously training him thing—making it damn clear what my strengths, my weaknesses, and my boundaries—were. In the end, we developed a decent relationship and like Tom, he "got" me and leveraged my skills appropriately—even if, as he reported to the COO at one point, did not think I was indispensable…unlike the two data analysts in the department.

I even reached the point that I felt comfortable enough to vent my general frustrations about the company with him. (It always seemed there was a distinct level of distrust percolating through the entire company, so this was noteworthy.) During one of our weekly one-on-ones, I asked him how he dealt with the stress and the continual feeling of banging one's head against the wall in regards to getting anything accomplished there. He surprised me by opening up and confessing that he was going through the same things.

When I heard that, I knew it would only be a matter of time until the announcement came down from on high that Chris was "leaving to pursue other opportunities."

And almost right on cue, it happened less than a month later. I'd sworn that if I were ever again in the target-on-my-back position I'd been in the previous summer, I would quit. I didn't. I absolutely loathe looking for work, and this camel's back can carry quite a load before it snaps. But the stress started adding up, and by the time it started manifesting as physical pain I knew something was going to have to give.

I hung on through the summer. In June they found an "interim" I.T. Director who—like all the ones who had come before—had a ton of good ideas to get the place in order and was actually getting some of those things accomplished (much to my total shock and surprise). I genuinely liked Jason, and by the time that fateful morning two months ago arrived, we'd talked enough and gotten to know each other to such a degree that he didn't seem at all surprised when that final straw broke the camel's back and I tendered my resignation. I believe his exact words were, "I understand completely."

Job Update

Still nothing, but I'm not worried. At least not yet.

I had a good interview about a week and a half ago. It wasn't one of those magic, gives-you-chills, kismet interviews, but it was good. And yet, there was something that felt off.

I guess the interviewer must've felt it too, because I got word late last week that, "the client is moving forward with a couple other candidates."

Oh well.

I was a perfect fit for what they were looking for, but apparently not perfect enough. And the kicker? I got a call from a different recruiter yesterday describing a job I'd be a perfect fit for and was ready to submit me…until it was revealed it was the exact same fucking position. Seriously?

That was followed up later in the afternoon by an emergency email from a different agency looking to hire about a half dozen techs for a post-PC rollout cleanup project for the next five days. No interview required, just show up at 7 am and start work. The money was good, and I thought what the hell…it would give me something to occupy my time while I'm waiting for "the next big thing."

After everything was set up and confirmed, the recruiter called me to say the client had changed their mind and decided to do it all in-house.

Fuck.

Let's Do This

It's no secret that I hate interviewing. The whole process of going out and selling myself to strangers is the reason (a) I could never be an effective prostitute, and (b) why I stayed as long as I did at that hellhole of a job.

But since I am now—as they say—between engagements, I've got to saddle up and head on out again.

Last Friday I met with a headhunter regarding a direct-hire full time placement at a company in Littleton. While Littleton is more of a commute than I would like, the job itself was in a totally different industry than any of the ones I'd worked in previously and sounded wonderful. It's a smaller (100 employee) company, had a very laid back, casual atmosphere, and the job description was almost tailor made for what I do.

I finally scored an interview this morning with their I.T. Director.

As expected, the position is a perfect fit for my skill set and what I want to do. It was a good interview. Not a great interview, not one of those magic, gives-you-chills kismet interviews, but overall, a good one nonetheless. It lasted about forty-five minutes, and while most of that time was spent with the Director telling me what he was looking for, I did manage to get enough words in edgewise to present my strengths and stress what a good fit this job would be for us both without coming off as an arrogant asshole.

The guy was very hard to read; his eyes lit up at a few of the things I said, which I took at as a good sign, but the fact that he mentioned he also wanted to speak to the two other candidates the agency was sending over next week told me that even if I was a near-perfect fit in some areas, I was obviously missing something he was looking for. The other two candidates may end up being complete losers, so I'm not giving up hope completely, but I'll go back to filling in online applications again on Monday.

I hear the new Target is hiring worker bees…

A New Beginning

Well, I did it.  I trusted in the universe and stepped off that cliff.

I returned to work today to find 160 emails, most of which were revolving around the fact that the big project we've been working on has been derailed because "the wrong version of Citrix is installed."

Excuse me, but that is the version I got directly from the vendor—the same vendor who was now telling us that it's the wrong one.

This meant that all the work I'd done over the last month, reimaging machines in both our facilities—has been wasted. Adding insult to injury, the interim IT Director has decided that Windows 7 needs to be rolled out NOW instead of after this project is in place. I hadn't even gotten through all the emails before I had one of the project testers standing in my cube telling me I had to call the vendor NOW and get this sorted out.

I told her I needed to meet with my director first. After she left, I texted Ben and said, "I'm quitting."

"Today?"

"Yes."

I went out to my car and called him. While I know he has his own concerns about temporarily cutting our income in half, he said he backed me one hundred percent and to go ahead and do it.

I grabbed my parking pass, went back into the building, gathered up my keys and key cards, and went to the IT Director's office, where I put it on his desk and I told him I was giving notice, effective immediately. He said he understood completely.

We walked over to HR and I turned in my stuff.

No one seemed the least bit upset—or even surprised. No one even asked why. I guess they've chewed through so many IT people over the years this was almost expected. There wasn't even an exit interview.

And so begins the next chapter.

 

Putting My Foot Down

I had my usual Friday afternoon one-on-one with the COO today. We're about to embark on a major upgrade to one of our mission critical applications, and I had discovered during testing a few days ago that the instructions from the vendor are not exactly accurate. What follows will probably  sound like so much technobabble to a lot of my readers, but if there is an existing Citrix installation on the workstation, it needs to be removed before upgrading, and for whatever reason this process just wasn't working properly. I uninstalled the existing clients—per the instructions—on a couple test machines and after rebooting and installing the new client I discovered that the machines were still referencing and trying to log into the old server. (What a surprise!) Anyhow, I didn't want to mess around with rooting out this crap, so the quickest way to fix it was to just reimage the problematic workstations—all of which were my predecessor's craptastic builds and overdue for a refresh—thereby eliminating all references to the old client since it wasn't part of my standard image anyway.

I reported my findings to the COO and the other stakeholders. Enter our outside network consultant who is of the "Scripting, scripting, scripting!" philosophy and promptly proceeded to woo the COO with promises that everything could be handled with a login script—even after hearing about the problems with the client not completely uninstalling. "I can bring in a Citrix expert at x-dollars an hour who will get that sorted." Well, knowing this consultant, I knew if this didn't work I would end up cleaning his mess by reimaiging everything anyway, so I told the COO, "I may not know scripting, or the arcane aspects of Citrix, but I do know desktop, and this is a clear-cut desktop issue that I would feel much better handling manually. You'd be a fool if you didn't leverage me here."

She was a bit taken aback that I actually dared to question the consultant's promises (who, only a year ago she had asked if I thought he knew what he was talking about) and countered with, "Can you get it all done in time for the rollout without any overtime?" I said I could—because I'd already started on it, and the half-dozen machines I'd already swapped out were working perfectly.

I honestly don't know why I even care about this, other than I don't want to get stuck cleaning up yet another huge mess that I had nothing to do with creating.

Spidey Sense

In the last week I've had two phone interviews for two different jobs. The first was one a bust almost from the beginning. I knew going in that it was for only a short-term (3 month) contract with no possibility of going permanent, but at this point I'm so fed up with the situation where I'm at now even that would be a relief. Unfortunately, while the interview went well, the person I was speaking with told me she couldn't even guarantee six weeks, much less three months; something that came to a complete surprise to the recruiter who put us together. I politely thanked her for her time and told her I this really wasn't what I was looking for. 3 months I could live with. Half that? Not so much.

The other interview—just this morning, for a six-month contract-to-hire—went very well. I had all the "right" answers to his questions, and the technical aspects of the job sounded like exactly what I was looking for. He suggested I stop by this afternoon to meet in person and tour of the facility. My little heart went pitter-patter. Would this be one of those "kismet" interviews?

The answer to that would be no. Almost from from the moment I arrived, my spidey sense started tingling—and not in a good way. And it only got worse. The guy I interviewed with—my would-be future supervisor—was nice enough and I could tell I'd really enjoy working with him—but he wouldn't be on site. He's based in Salt Lake City.

And that brings me to the biggest reason I quickly decided I didn't want to work there: I would be one half of only a two-man on-site team—pretty much the same thing I've got going on now (at least when we have an I.T. Director) but with twice as many users as I currently support. Secondly, the rest of the I.T. department is spread out across other cities, so there isn't going to be a whole lot of bonding going on there. Maybe this is a trend; I know we were moving in that direction at my last job in Phoenix, but it was only implemented long after I'd departed. And lastly, it took only a few minutes in the building to remember why I turned down so many offers from investment bankers during the 90s; the atmosphere—even though this place was brand new—was just plain skeevy.

Being a responsible self-starter, I certainly enjoy the freedom that the situation of being more-or-less alone and unsupervised would have provided, but I what I really want (and miss) is what I had at my last job in Arizona; I want to once again be part of a bigger work "family"—one that's linked by more than telephone and video conferences.

I know my ideal job in Denver is still out there, it's just a matter of time before it shows up. It has been my experience that whenever I've moved to a new city, the first job I land there is only a stepping stone; something to simply get me settled. It's the second job that always seems to turn into something magical—and while I am rather disappointed at the turn of events, I can say unequivocally that the position I interviewed for today wasn't that job.

When we moved to Denver, I was dead-set against going back into supporting a hospital environment, but now that I've been away from it for almost four years (I worked at my company's insurance division for 18 months before leaving Phoenix), I think I might actually be ready to return, and I told the Universe as much. The last time I told the Universe I was ready for something, Ben appeared. We'll see if it's still listening…

Work History

My current employment situation sucks, but sometimes it takes a phone call to a longtime friend to get me out of my own head long enough to actually put it all in perspective. After speaking at length with my dear friend Cindy the other night, I realized that the emotionally toxic work environment I currently find myself in is merely a bump in the road—that I need to remember that I have had these bumps before, and that "this too shall pass." I need to remember the incredible sense of liberation that I will feel when I finally find something else and break free of this place. I also need to remember that I have worked for some truly outstanding people during my career and that I will find that magic again.

"I am open and receptive to the abundance of the universe."

The one company that immediately comes to mind in that magic category was the small architectural firm that I worked for in San Francisco for nearly a decade—until in what can only be described as a fit of utter madness I decided to throw my entire life into complete chaos and move back to Arizona the first time.

(Of course, if I had not done that, it would not have led me on the path to Ben, and as I've said that many times before, I wouldn't change that for the world.)

My interview at H&M (no, not that H&M)  was the result of having sent out a hundred blind resumes seeking work as an architectural drafter (my profession before getting suckered into giving it up for full time PC support).

The funny thing is, when I first arrived for my interview, I almost turned around and left before even going in. The office was in a decrepit building on the southeast corner of Mission and 2nd, above a perpetually going-out-of business men's clothing retailer. The first thing that greeted me when I got off the elevator was a locked metal gate preventing further access. But for once in my life I actually listened to that little voice in my head that told me if I turned around and left I would be making a horrible mistake.

2nd & Mission, San Francisco CA – 1987

I rang the buzzer and was greeted by one of the two principals.

As expected, it was a small, rather dingy office, about 20 feet wide by 40 feet long. Along one side were four drafting tables perpendicular to the wall. On the opposite wall was a row of bookcases holding product catalogs. Between them was a folding conference table.

Despite my initial misgivings, I had an excellent interview. It was one of only three such interviews I've had in my life that even during the interview itself I knew was kismet. And at the end of the interview, Jack and Nick looked at each other and said, "We like you. Would you like to come to work for us?"

And so began my 8 year journey and the birth of my second family.

Shortly after I started work, the fourth member of the firm returned from an extended absence. Neill was a couple years younger than I, but we had so much in common in the way of music, film, and our overall design aesthetic we immediately hit it off. (I remember one afternoon we were off to measure some building and he said something about cock suckers. I looked at him and said, "Excuse me, but I'm a cock sucker!" He looked at me, and smiling, said, "Some of my best friends are cock suckers!" Neill wasn't gay, but having grown up in the bay area, was certainly unfazed by my announcement, and thus began our friendship.)

Jack was the company's sales division. Nick was the main designer and ran the office, handling the day-to-day coordination with clients. Neill and I were production, although as the years went by each of our respective roles branched out significantly.

A couple months after I started, I arrived at work one morning to discover an IBM computer sitting on the conference table. I remember asking, "What's this for?" and was told, "We're not exactly sure. We hope you can do something with it."

And so began my obsession.

I'd never touched a PC in my life (other than a brief stint playing with a Commodore VIC-20 years earlier), but I took to it like a fish to water. As the months progressed I began learning everything I could about this new piece of technology. Little did I know where this would ultimately lead me, or how it would result in a life-long friendship with Jack's wife, Lei.

I got a copy of WordPerfect from my ex, who was working for a law firm at the time, and—having attended a sales presentation for AutoCAD at my last job in Tucson and knew that this was the way the architectural profession was headed—"acquired" a copy of that as well. I remember AutoCAD being the most difficult thing I had ever set out to learn. At one point I was literally moving things in my dreams by applying cartesian coordinates.

While they kicked and screamed the entire way, I dragged the firm legally into CAD, and as time passed we bought several new PCs and created a network. Then, after realizing the money being wasted by having all our CAD drawings printed offsite, the firm invested in a plotter.

Nick was one of those amazing employers who basically gave me free reign to do whatever was needed to grow professionally as well as personally while I was there. Only once did I take advantage of his generosity, and it's something I regret to this day.

Nick, Neill, Your Humble Blogger, and Jack – 1991

The office moved after the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake (not surprisingly, the building was condemned) to nicer digs at Fremont and Folsom where it remained until the late 90s.

Like any family, the one at H&M had its difficult moments. Both the owners were fond of spending an afternoon at the local pub, and when Nick and Jack fought, it was like parents going at it. But also like a family, in difficult times, we hung together. When business turned down in the early 90s, instead of laying anyone off, we all voluntarily went to a 32 hour work week until things rebounded. And when things were good, they were very good. One day after the weather had warmed up after a particularly wet and nasty winter, Nick turned to us and said, "Take the rest of the day off. Go to the beach."

For the Christmas holiday, Jack and Nick never failed to go above and beyond. Of course, there were the year-end bonuses and profit-sharing, but in addition there would always be something else. One year it was a trip on the ferry to Sausalito and an expensive lunch followed by an afternoon of playing tourist…

Neill, Your Humble Blogger, and Nick – XMas 1987

Another year it was fishing on the Bay for the day (worst weather ever, and after catching and killing the fish—a sturgeon—Neill took up permanent vegetarianism, but it was the thought that counted)…

Drowned Rats

Yet another year they rented a house at Sea Ranch for a weekend and we all brought our families/significant others…

Sea Ranch – 1991

While working for H&M, I remember days where I was irritated, or frustrated or pissed off at something Nick or Jack or Neill did (Neill got pretty pissy too at times), but never do I remember waking up in the morning and thinking, "I just can't deal with the bullshit today," like I often do now.

This was also the only place I have ever worked where I was regularly invited to break bread at the owners' homes with their families as well as having them in my home to do the same.

And as a testament to the fact that we were more than just employers and employees, Nick openly wept as I said my final goodbyes at my farewell lunch.

While I have since lost contact with Nick and Neill, I still regularly call and write Jack's wife, who often referred to me as her second son and with whom I still share a deep and abiding love for all things tech.

The More Things Change…

I started digging through my old journals trying to track down when I took a certain trip, and I ran across this. From 22 July 1997:

Life at work hasn't improved much since I last bothered to record anything for posterity.  If it weren't for the fact I really want to get my Novell and WinNT certifications, I would've packed up and headed over to PC Personnel a long time ago.

Joel and I were briefly discussing that subject this morning.  Joel, who gave notice last week, has severe "short-timer" attitude, so he probably isn't the best counselor, but I asked him why things are so god-awful at OHS.  I mean, I'm going to be asked (assuming I leave for reasons other than geographic relocation) why I decided to leave an ostensibly good job.  That's where I'm faced with the conundrum. Neither one of us can put our fingers on any one thing that makes the job so horrible.  In fact, if I have to really sit and think about it, it's got to be one of the easiest jobs I've ever had.  So why do we all dread coming to it each morning?

It could be the constant attitude we get from the users.  The "us-versus-them" mentality rampant in the company certainly doesn't contribute to a healthy, encouraging work environment.  Nor does the fact the vast majority of the people upstairs don't want to bother learning the myriad tools at their disposal—that they simply want their hands held when things go wrong—and you can no doubt understand our frustration.  The idiot users don't care how things work, or even why they work a particular way.  If it doesn't work they way they expect—which seems to be way too often based on my own observations—they want us to simply wave a magic wand and bend it to their will, not understanding that this isn't Burger King and you can't always have it your way. No one takes the initiative to do anything on their own, and that's what's most irritating to me.  Easily 75% of the calls that come in are for stupid, stupid things; stuff the users could easily take care of if they thought past fucking step one!

But no one—well, almost no one—does that.  It truly surprises me when I run across someone who's bothered to do some independent learning (or even thinking) on their own and is capable of taking care of the little day-to-day glitches that show up with the tools that their entire employment revolves around. 

You would think that when a computer locks up, most people would simply have the sense to reboot it or turn the fucking thing off and on again.  But no! It's far easier to call 4259 and whine to us.*

Of course, arriving at work in an absolutely foul mood because of the absolute idiocy of drivers in this town doesn't contribute to a positive work attitude either.

I'm not exactly sure what to make of this, other than what I chose for the title of this post.

*OMG! Just as true today as it was fifteen years ago!

Some People Really Just Need to STFU

I now know the most intimate details of the 60-year-old Catholic, Goes-to-Mass-every-Sunday-but-somehow-knows-when-Mercury-is-in-retrograde, had-a-hysterectomy-when-she-was-50, allergic to tree nuts, nurse's life who sits on the other side of the cube divider from me.

That includes where she lives, the details of each and every commute, every medication she's taking, where she goes to purchase those meds, every doctor appointment, the never-ending medical problems with her aging dog—that she flat out refuses to put down no matter what it ends up costing her—and of course, every. little. thing. her impossibly adorable grandchildren do.

She doesn't get along with her brother, and has berated him at length for having bought their mother a complicated, flat panel television last Christmas that the mother is forever screwing up and calling her to fix.

And she giggles. Constantly. Like a teenager. She doesn't work for us; she works for our parent company, so I didn't have any interaction with her when she came on board and had no idea what she even looked like for weeks. In fact, before I actually saw her, I thought they'd hired a co-ed fresh out of nursing school. Imagine my surprise when I heard her say she was 60.

The only thing I don't know is whether or not she swallows, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time until that bit of unwelcome knowledge is forced upon me as well.

Did I mention a day doesn't go by where she's not on the phone to HER Help Desk for some incredibly stupid issue?

All I can say is thank the FSM I don't have to support this woman. AND for headphones. Most definitely for headphones.

"But Aren't You I.T.?"

That was the response from a coworker this afternoon after I replied, "And why are you telling me?" when she came to my cubicle and announced that one of the microwave ovens in the break room wasn't working, thus confirming that the attitude at my workplace is that if it's electrical and plugs into a wall, it's my responsibility.

Seriously.

Unsettling News

My boss gave notice on Friday.

It took this fucking company and its prima donna management less than a year to burn through another great I.T. Manager. I really liked Chris and was frankly amazed that he was able to push through so many of the needed fixes and improvements that the previous manager couldn't seem to. And just when we were on the verge of really getting our house in order, he's decided to "leave to pursue other opportunities."

Yeah, we all know what that means. He pissed off the wrong person. I wonder which one of the self-important assholes with an "O" after name it was?

I had confided to him a couple weeks ago that I was burnt out and asked how he handled being in that situation himself. I was surprised that he opened up and confessed that he was growing increasingly tired of the disarray and the almost pathological resistance to change this company possesses, so Friday's announcement didn't come as a complete surprise.

Immediately afterward Friday's meeting, I went back on Monster and Dice and updated my resume to tone down the "I want to do Mac!" vibe I'd imparted a few weeks ago. At this point I can't afford to be that picky. I just need to find another desktop support job and get out. I'm not going to go through another three months of hell that was the last time we were without a director while they took their sweet time finding a replacement; three months that I became the de facto whipping boy for the alcoholic CEO and clueless COO. Fuck that shit.

Wish me luck.

 

Fuck It

I called out sick today, for no reason other than I simply didn't want to deal with the rank stupidity of my workplace.

There was only one other place in my employment history that I hated going to as much I do this one. It was in 1997 at an architectural firm in San Francisco that was owned—ironically—by a very cool guy I'd worked with about fifteen years prior in Phoenix. It turned out while he owned the place, he didn't really run the office and the guy who did had no management skills whatsoever.

While I was working as an architectural drafter at the time, the owner knew of my mad PC skillz, going so far as to say it would be a tremendous asset at the office. But as it turned out, even with my skills, I wasn't allowed to touch anything when stuff broke because a friend of the office manager "handled all that." So every time something went down (which happened on a fairly regular basis), we had to wait—sometimes for days—for the friend to show up and fix it.

I'd discussed this with the owner on more than one occasion, willing to take on the responsibility myself, and he said that would be great, but nothing ever came of it. It made me wonder who was actually in charge of the place.

Anyhow, sometime shortly after the fifth or sixth time we were required to do mandatory weekend overtime because of this ongoing bullshit with the system going down, I'd decided I'd had enough. One morning I had a particularly frustrating commute via the good ol' SF MUNI, and by the time I got off at the Montgomery Station, I knew was going to end up being about 20 minutes late. I said, "Fuck this!" and turned around and got on the next outbound train and returned home. I spent the rest of the day composing my resignation letter.

The following day was Friday (and pay day), so I returned to work, intending to deliver my resignation to the owner in person and explain why I was leaving, but fate didn't afford me the opportunity; he wasn't in the office and wasn't due back until the following week. So, after receiving my check, I left the letter on his desk, quietly packed my things, and left for lunch—and never went back.

As much as I'd like to do the same thing where I'm at now, I simply can't afford to. Those carefree days of youth are gone and I can't just walk into a new job like I used to be able to. I have to at least act like a responsible adult and make sure I have something else lined up first.

To that end, I've been in contact with a recruiter who has submitted me for a full time, benefits-paid position at a non-healthcare-related company that's in the same general area where I'm working now. This place also has the benefit of being a mixed Apple/Microsoft environment, something I've been really hoping to get into. Their hiring manager was out all last week, so I'm hoping to get a phone call this week saying they want to talk to me.

I Just Don't Care Any More

About anything Microsoft says or does, that is.

This, of course, does not bode well for my continued employment in this field. I've been doing PC tech support full time since 1996 and as part of other job duties for an additional ten years prior to that. Obviously there was something that kept me engaged for all those years, but it's long gone.

For years I dealt with the continual patches and updates, the virus outbreaks, the malware, and the ever increasing bloat that was Windows and MS Office. The annoyance with all things Microsoft began several years ago, but was manageable and really didn't come to a head until I started running Windows 7 on my personal laptop back in the summer of 2009. One day, for no reason whatsoever, it simply refused to display my chosen wallpaper. No amount of cajoling or voodoo worked to rectify the situation, and faced with the prospect of wiping everything and reinstalling Windows again, I said ENOUGH. That was it; I was through with Microsoft. I had to deal with this crap at work; I didn't have to at home.

Within a week I was a Mac owner. I'd be lying if I said the transition was painless, and I am not afraid to admit that Apple does have issues—but they're nothing compared with what I've had to deal with from pretty much anything coming out of Redmond.

For the last year I've been running Windows 7 on my work PC. About three weeks ago it started refusing to do something with Internet Explorer (to be honest I don't remember what it was at this point—not worth committing to memory), so I wiped the damn thing and loaded XP.

I was amazed at how much faster the machine ran. This confirms my belief that despite the 120+ patches and fixes that came out after SP3, Microsoft basically got it right with XP.

I've been able to keep my disgust and ever increasing apathy toward all things Microsoft (and Dell) concealed on a professional level since then, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. During meetings with our network consultants, they're rattling off architectures and protocols and how the next big thing from Dell—or whoever—is going to fundamentally change our lives. Seriously dudes? Years ago I might've actually been interested enough to ask what all this meant (or at least research it myself later), but at this point I simply don't care.

Don't even get me started on the total lack of even he most elementary of computer skills in the workers my company hires (a despair I share with more than one of the managers). For example, today I got an email from one woman who wrote, "It never prompted me to change my password. How do I do that?"

Seriously.

I replied, "Knowing how to change one's Windows password is a basic computer skill," and then wrote out the steps to do it. I'm sure I'm going to get feedback on that.

But I don't care.

And for some reason, people never think of rebooting when they encounter a problem. No, it's so much easier to call me so I can tell them to reboot.

And then they give me attitude. "You always tell me to do that!" Well yeah, it's because it fixes whatever's wrong 90% of the time, asshole.

There's a reason your I.T. guy is surly. We don't start out this way. Like a clogged pipe, it takes years to get to this level of contempt for the people you're supposed to support.

So what's the solution?

I'm not sure. If I knew I wouldn't be still hanging around the place I am.

I would like to find an Apple shop; some business that uses Macs and OS X instead of plastic Dell crap running Windows. I think that might rekindle my interest in this technology. I once thought about applying to work at an Apple store, but while I was once able to feign caring, compassionate customer service, I can't even fake it any more and I wouldn't last a day in that environment.