Can You Keep A Secret?

Well I work with some people that can't. It's a painful learning experience when you discover some people can't keep a secret. When I first started here a few years ago, I mentioned something to a certain someone. It wasn't a secret as such, but I wasn't expecting it to be passed along. Yet it was, so I made a note to add this person to the DNT (Do Not Trust) Register.

Towards the end of last year this person, through her network, must have picked up on something. Because suddenly she took a role in our Western Sydney office which was just over a 3 hour round trip. She was always adamant she couldn't travel down there because of her kids, so it was a little strange. It was a job on a top secret project, one that was on the restructuring of the organisation. At the morning tea held for her farewell she told us she signed a confidentially agreement to not reveal to anyone about what was going to happen. I almost chocked on my cake, but hey, give her the benefit of the doubt, right?

No, I was right. She couldn't keep a secret and in due course told our manager what was going down. We were closing. Not just us, but the bulk of the regional and Sydney branches. When the CEO spends our $88 million dollar profit in 5 years and in that time stops us from running a profit, things have got to change. Of course our manager cannot keep anything to himself. There are no secrets in this place and this wasn't going to be the first.

He called me in, he looked serious. I wondered what the issue was, had I done something? Had I upset a client and they complained to head office? What? 

"The branch is closing, I thought I would give you the heads up, but don't tell anyone, I have told X, Y and Z, but whatever you do, don't tell A."

"Is this official?"

"Not yet, it will be, but H told me it is what she is working on, but she will be sacked if she tells anyone, so whatever you do, don't mention her name"

Talk about a rock and a hard place. He tells me confidential information then tells me not to say anything to anyone. So the question is can I keep a secret? Well is turns out I didn't need to, everyone knew and we were now all discussing it in the open. Except A, I felt bad for her, I didn't think it was fair, and I didn't sign a confidentiality agreement. But I do keep secrets, at least the ones that need keeping like personal and private ones. I sussed A out, turns out she knew anyway from another source. What was the point of the confidentially agreement?

The "restructure" is still a secret, even though it seems most of the organisation knows. The latest secret we have heard is on Monday we are being told about the "restructure", you know, officially. Can anyone keep a secret?

The Secret Club I Don't Belong To

Small gatherings at desks, phones being exchanged, oohing and ahhing, these are the members of the mother's club.  The secret club at work where I am the only one not a member.  It doesn't bother me that I don't belong, except for the 1% of the time when it does.  I know this sounds like I am about to pour my heart out with a long and painful infertility journey, but there is no story to tell.  It is simply a case that on those rare days it hurts because I feel like I am back at high school being the outsider sitting alone watching packs of girls in throngs of laughter.

It's not that they don't include me, they try, sometimes, but how can I relate?  There are two older women both of whom have recently become grandmothers and they share with the younger mothers the outfits they buy and the videos sent to them of the baby smiling or crawling or making funny noises.  No one shows me.  It's not deliberate, but they gravitate towards other mothers for validation.  I understand and I know I can't provide that.

I listen, I'm good at that.  Every day I listen to their stories about the children and I laugh, but I have nothing to add.  When talk turns to husbands I can hold the office like a grand master story teller, but with children I smile and nod.  I used to show a bit more interest but my total lack of understanding of all things children, baby and pregnancy made it hard.  It's another language, that I don't speak and everyday at some point they switch to their native tongue and I am left smiling.

Sometimes we go to the pub for lunch on Friday's.  One Friday sticks out in my mind.  The entire hour was spent sharing labour and birth stories.  I laughed, I cringed, but I didn't speak.  What could I say?  I left that lunch early, I wanted to be along for a few minutes and remind myself of all the clubs I do belong to.  Even though high school is far behind sometimes those painful memories creep up on me.  But it's ok now because I can hang out with members of the clubs I do belong to, and when I get home I can cuddle into my husband and my boys, my favourite club of them all.

Things I Don't Understand # 127

A printer is a beautiful piece of engineering.  The very clever people that design these machines design them so they fit 500 sheets of paper in the tray.  It is the most perfect fit you can find in an office.  And what a surprise.  The paper people actually package their paper into lovely 500 sheet reams.

So then why, when the printer beeps loudly altering you to the fact that she is in desperate need of paper, do people rip open a new ream and only insert part of that magical 500?  Someone who is eagerly waiting for the rest of their document has gone to the trouble to answer the beep, locate a ream of paper, and open it.  But the effort stops there because their hands only pull out a small sample of paper.  That person then opens the printer tray, dumps the paper in and aggressively shoves the tray back into the machine before pressing the button to resume printing.

I fail to see how putting all 500 sheets into the printer requires more effort than the effort already gone to.  Or is it a question of time?  How much more time will it take to insert 500 sheets of paper instead of say, 78?  I'm not going to conduct an experiment but I would say less than 10 seconds.  Actually less than 5 is probably more accurate.  I'm not sure if it's one person in our office who does this or a few.  Personally I strip the whole 500 out of the packet and carefully lay them in the tray, admiring the satisfaction of the perfect fit.  Is there anyone who can explain the need to break a perfect engineering process?

Thank You

Image by Stuart Rowe Photography

Two words that are music to my ears.  I say those words a lot and I hope they come back to me often.  But they don't.  I know it's not me.  It's just the way people are today.  Self-absorbed.  So focused on themselves there is no room for anyone else and certainly no room for some old-school manners.  People get what they want and move onto the next thing they want without a fleeting thought about the person in front of them.  The person that helped them, served them, worked hard and pushed through "expected timeframe's" for them.  The person that is left standing and wondering why it is so hard for you to acknowledge what they have done.  That person is me.

Some clients are so pushy, so demanding, so greedy.  We tell them up front the process, the timeframes, the steps that need to be taken, but they don't listen; they want what they want right now.  I could be aggressive and take a stand.  But I know which fights to fight and those to let go.  I will never win.  The client's only morph into their toddler self and argue and scream and kick and complain higher up the chain.  So I do what I can, I move things through as fast as possible.  I speak to people and jump queues and ta-dah, in the midst of their grumbling I give them what they want.

Silence.  Nothing.  I sit in my chair and cross it off my list, another one done and then I stare at an empty inbox and a silent phone.  Can't someone just acknowledge the effort I went to?  Why are you so rude to me, so demanding of me, so pushy and aggressive with me?  Why do you speak to me in a way I hope you would never speak to your loved ones, and then in that moment when the money lands in your bank account, can you not just be human?  All I want is for a moment for you to see the world is bigger than your existence in it.  There are so many people standing in front of you, who want you to look us in the eye.  Acknowledge our existence in this world and perhaps if you can spare just a moment longer, utter those two very special words, "Thank You".

Maybe They're Happy

I remember being very young when I was taught the lesson of 'Do not judge a book by it's cover'.  I have always tried to not judge and make assumptions about people I meet and instead allow myself to learn about someone by getting to know them.  Unfortunately not everyone takes this approach, and they make judgements about people straight away.  Unfortunately for me I work with a few people that are very quick to judge.  These same people also like to share that judgement with me, before I even have a chance to see the people they are making the judgements about.

The nature of my work involves people sharing their private information, acknowledging that death is a part of life and, often, unburdening family conflict.  This is difficult to do and for many they don't want to do it alone.  They will bring someone with them, usually a partner, or a friend, or a child.  The work we do is confronting and people don't want to think about it.  Even I don't like to think about it.  It took me a while to be able to switch off and stand back and see that it was just a job.  Sometime back we needed a temporary receptionist as our permanent one was moved into another role.  The person they hired was the most judgemental person I do believe I have come across.  And she is still with us.

She loves to personally come to my desk to alert me to the fact that my appointment has arrived.  And then with her voice lowered, she whispers her assumptions of that client.  I never take notice of her judgements, because I have found that almost 100% of the time she is wrong.  She will tell me a client is difficult and rude, yet when I talk to them I find them easy going and pleasant.  She will tell me a client is wasting our time as they have no money yet they are multimillionaires.  And many times when a husband and wife come in she loves to tell me it is a second marriage and she only wants his money, "after all, she is young enough to be his daughter".

The other day I did have a husband and wife come in, and it was a second marriage, and she was young enough to be his daughter, in fact she was younger than his daughter.  But so what!  After spending an hour with this couple it was clear they were both happy.  To be completely honest I couldn't say whether they were truly in love, but I could say they were both happy with whatever arrangement they had going on.  They both wanted a companion and had found each other, both fulfilling the needs of the other while having their own needs met.  And in a way isn't that part of what marriage is about?  And aren't we all striving for happiness anyway?  At the end of the day, maybe people are happy with what they have going on, and who are we to judge them for their choices and what it takes to make them happy.  Instead it is time to stop analysing the lives of others and to look at our own lives, and do what we need to do in order to ensure our own happiness.

Where Is The Serenity?

Today I returned to work after a blissful 2.5 weeks off.  Hubby and I had a wonderful time, we took a trip down South and explored some beautiful countryside and powdery soft sand beaches and also spent some time at home, pottering about inside and out slowly working through our list and making our house feel as homely as possible.  I was in a fantastic frame of mind.  As relaxed as I had been all year and looking at everything with rose coloured glasses.  The days were long and pleasant and everything we did was done in a casual, leisurely pace.  Then last night I had to face the reality, that this state of nirvana was about to be over.  That was not a conscious thought but it must have existed on some level as I spent the night tossing and turning and not sleeping.  When I finally gave into my alarm I felt more tired than when I had gone to bed last night.

But I was determined.  I was going to ensure that my more positive outlook on life would flow through into work and that I would be positive and have a good day.  It was painful, I had 2.5 weeks worth of work, un-neatly piled up on my desk and the girls were only too keen to share with me the gossip I had missed out on.  As the day wore on and the piles became smaller and I found my groove again, I was starting to believe that this could work.  I could incorporate my holiday vibe into my work environment.  However as 5pm loomed the real office talk began, the complaining and whining and I politely nodded and smiled as I listened.  I wondered, was I that negative before my holiday?  I think I know the answer to that, and I'm not happy about it.  I did the only thing I could do.  I walked away.  I was not going to get caught up in all that rubbish again.

Holidays are a wonderful thing.  Of course there are just never enough of them.  In my happy, anxious free time, I gained a lot of clarity about things on my mind.  Answers to questions pondered became crystal clear.  So much so I felt like the answer was always there right in front of me, I just failed to see.  I finally worked out the direction for my life for the next few years, and I like it, I am excited by it and the more I picture it, the more I want it.  Everything seems to have fallen into place and I have a sense of where I want to go and how to get there.  My current job is not in that picture but that is ok.  It serves a purpose for now and when I think about my new goals it puts my job in perspective.  Just that, a job, an income, a place to earn money for now.  And with that in mind I can walk away from the negativity in the office.  I don't need it, and it serves no purpose.  I can go to work, do what I need to do and with a little bit of effort and mindfulness, stay in my serenity state of mind, hopefully until the next holiday.

Daydreaming

I caught the train to work today.  I haven't caught the train in a long while.  Of course when I was a regular user of public transport there were no quiet carriages.  I would try and read and find myself reading the same page over and over as I tried really hard not to listen to other conversations, or the music from the guy sitting across from me.  Today, however I indulged in sitting in a quiet carriage.

Ah, the serenity.  Although the first thing I noticed was that perhaps it was a little too quiet.  The silence was close to the line of peaceful and relaxing vs eerily quiet.  I look my seat and pulled out my book and began reading.  About a page in I put the book down.  It was too quiet to read, no one was moving and the gentle rock-rock of the carriage was almost hypnotising.  I looked out the window and found my mind easily slipping into that wonderful world of daydreaming.  My alter ego appeared and began living out all my dreams, big and small.  

Daydreaming is my favourite pastime.  I savour it whenever I have the chance.  I have even been known to potter about the house cleaning, only so I can escape to my alter ego and live in my fantasy world.  I find daydreaming cures all ills.  It calms me down when I feel upset and lifts me up when I am feeling flat, it also helps me to be clear on what I want and what I don't want.  And in those rare occasions when I am stuck watching something bad or listening to irrelevant chatter, it offers a reprieve and instantly makes the time pass better.

Of course once I escaped, the time to work passed in what felt like an instant.  The train had arrived at my station and I was off walking leisurely to work shaking off the clouds of my other world.  As I sat at my desk I felt relaxed, calm and ready to work.  Perhaps this is something I should look into.  A lot can be said for day dreaming and relaxing on the way to work, as opposed to dealing with the stress of peak hour traffic.  But then the convenience of private transport is maybe a slightly bigger indulgence that for now I think I will hold onto.  There is a lot to be said for getting home in the quickest amount of time possible.

To Travel Or Not To Travel

 

Just over 2 months ago my supervisor took on another role for 2 months and I was asked to act up in her role.  She then took another role for 3 months and I am staying on her job for the next 3 months.  Yesterday my boss asked if I was happy to stay, I said yes, assuming he meant if on the odd chance she didn't come back I could stay in this role, but then he asked about travel.  Would I travel or would I stay in this office.  Because he felt if I wanted to go for this same role in one of our other offices, such as the several offices in Sydney, I would have no trouble.  And it has me thinking....

Having now been in this role for just over two months, I like it.  Really what is not to like?  More money, more responsibility, more respect and I have increased my skill set exponentially in the last 2  months.  Let's be totally honest, it will be very difficult for me to step back down after having been there for 5 months.  I would like to stay in this role and my boss is telling me I can if I am prepared to travel.  But I have done the travel thing.  When we first moved up here I was working in Newcastle and that was 1 1/2 hours each way.  I would get up early, get dressed and go to work, I would come home at 7pm have dinner, and go to bed.  When the weekends rolled around I had no energy and spent most of the time bumming around at home.  Outside work there was little time for much else.  

But, I keep thinking about it.  About staying in this role permanently.  Is it worth it?  Will all the benefits outweigh the travel?  And then I remind myself to look at the big picture.  My future is not with this company or with this industry, my future is with myself as boss and lots of rolling green hills.  I like my job, I really like it at the moment, but is it worth commuting to The City each day for when, in the big picture, it isn't even part of my dreams?

Babies

One of the girls at work returned back to work yesterday after almost a year on maternity.  Today another girl was announing her pregnancy.  The new mother and the new pregnant girl started talking baby when suddenly my friend at work appeared at my desk on the verge of tears.  I took her outside and she told me she was pregnant, but miscarried at 7 weeks and her due date was a week after the newly pregnant staff member.  And right now she couldn't handle the baby talk.

It has stuck with me all day.  Firstly, she is the nicest person in the world, nobody ever says anything nasty about her because frankly there is nothing to say.  She is that girl who is bubbly and positive and you really want to dislike her but you just can't.  Secondly she is the healthiest person I know.  Literally, she goes to the gym almost everyday and her lunch would make the Dr proud.  Whenever there is cake at work she turns it down every time.  Then, as she said to me today, we walk through the streets at work and it is full of dole bludgers, addicts and alcoholics who are pregnant and with children.  Just doesn't seem fair.

I guess with Operation Fertility on my mind the whole thing bothers me, but maybe also because of the crushing pain I could see in her eyes.  She is hurting and is aware of how unhelpful the pregnant colleague is going to be, knowing the whole time that could have been her, she told me it was going to be hard.  I cannot relate, I have never been in that situation, all I could offer her was my ability to listen and I told her I would bring in a book I had just read on fertility that I had found helpful.

I have babies on my mind.  As my friend said, at least she fell pregnant, and she is right.  I hope she gets what she wants very soon.  She will make a wonderful mother.  It makes me think about my situation.  I haven't ovulated since I came off The Pill in November and my PCOS symptoms are starting to show.  I am very aware of just how messed up my fertility is.  And I feel I am only just seeing the surface.  Tonight, I have babies on my mind.

Work is a Chore

My job is work.  It is not something I love, it is a mandatory chore I perform 40 hours a week, 48 weeks a year to pay the bills.  I do like my job, I like the environment, the people and the benefits, and I am very grateful that I have this job, but I do not wake up in the morning fired up about it.  It is not my passion.  I remember in Year 12 I was one of the few people who knew what I wanted to do, and I knew one thing for sure; I was not going to spend my life working behind a desk, stuck in an office, it was not going to happen.  Yet here I am.

I have no regrets, this work suited me in my twenties (did I really just say that?).  Before I met Hubby I was living the life, working in the city, strutting my way through traffic with my coffee in one hand and the latest Cosmo in the other.  I really did think I was all that.  But then I met Hubby, my priorities changed, we built a house and now we are settled.  And that is why I now find myself sitting at my desk at work thinking about my dreams.  I had so many when I left school.  

I have so many dreams now and work/career is the big thing for me.  I don't want to work behind a desk anymore pushing papers around.  I want to contribute, I want to wake up excited about work, I want to go to bed at night knowing I am living up to my full potential.  I encourage those around me all the time to follow their dreams, life is too short, just do it.  I need to practise what I preach.  I don't know why I've been so fired up lately about living life, everywhere I turn I am inspired, perhaps now this is my big "a-ha" moment I have been waiting for, although, of course, it looks nothing like I thought it would. 

Feeling alive

I woke up today with a splitting headache.  I didn't want it to set the tone for the day but even though I tried it seemed too.  When I arrived at work I just wanted to crawl under a rock.  I really wasn't that productive and everything seemed to be a huge effort.  I didn't have lunch with me, I wasn't that organised last night, so it was off to the food court.

The food court down the road consists of Maccas, Kebab King and Wok Kitchen.  I went with Maccas, even though I knew I shouldn't have.  As I sat in the break room eating I suddenly chocked and pulled out a black hair.  Being a blonde I almost threw up then and there.  

Then in the afternoon a client called to provide me with some information that he was meant to inform me of 4 months ago and has now created even more work for me.  I couldn't wait to get home.

As soon as I walked in the door I was greeted by Mr C.  I decided to take him for a walk and J decided to come as well.  It was only 20 minutes but it was lovely and now I can say I have had a great day today.  Walking in the afternoon sun with my two boys shaking off the day, getting fresh air and for the first time all day, feeling alive.  And now I sit here, my blood still pumping from the walk, feeling energised and ready to do all I have to do tonight.  Tonight, dinner will be cooked, housework achieved and even a few wedding items ticked off the list.