Telework - Week Two

Like me, you are probably now ensconced in your home, trying to get used to working remotely. I just completed my second week and to be frank, I'm not enamored with it.

Every year around mid-January, especially when a heavy dumping of snow is in the forecast, I fantasize about being able to stay home and not be compelled to brave the treacherous roads. "I wouldn't even need to get dressed! I could just stay in my warm jammies, flip on my computer and voila!" Granted, that would be ideal...for a day.

The reality is, yep, I don't set my alarm. I do get dressed. I stumble to the kitchen and start the coffeemaker; I eat; anything and everything I shouldn't be eating.Then I start work. The first couple of hours go fast. I'm absorbed in my every-morning tasks. Around the third hour, things begin to drag. I start to feel that now familiar twinge in my back so I shift positions, pull my foot stool out a bit farther, stretch out my legs until they start hurting, too; crank my sagging chair back up to its original height; count the minutes until morning break. Working solo is not what my job is supposed to be -- I'm a trainer, so I work with people. I solve problems; I teach. Now I do busy work. I pitch in with whatever claim needs to be processed -- competencies that thirty-one other people in my department are well qualified to do.

At nine o'clock, I don my coat and head outside to stretch my legs and my back and to breathe in nicotine-free air. I see one or two other people -- one walking her dog; another jogging past me (I wonder if I should hold my breath or just act naturally). Then I come back inside and dig into my snack stash. Over the past twelve months, I lost thirty pounds, and it was a lot of work and drudgery. Now I'm going to gain it all back in a month.

Eleven is lunch time. A half hour to stuff my face and find a different place to sit for a few minutes. One o'clock is afternoon break -- another outdoor sojourn and more snacks. 

I miss human interaction. Email does not supply instant gratification. I miss shooting the breeze. I miss toddling down to the cafeteria with Lori and making jokes about the food choices. I miss having people around me, as exasperating as they can be at times. I miss running into people from other departments in the hall and commiserating with them about our jobs.

After two weeks, though, the picture has become clearer, and I am determined to shake things up a bit. Our CEO has informed us that this whole telework thing will extend through May 4. I think it will be longer. It's time to pull myself together.

Remote work or not, I need to do the job I was hired to do. I can do something about that, and I will -- via email. I need to feel useful and not simply like someone putting in time. I can't do anything about the chair situation other than continue trying different configurations. I'm not ready to invest in a new office chair that I'll only need for two and a half months, tops.(I wonder if I'll even be back in the office in time to have a retirement party.)

Things I've managed to accomplish this week:

• For the first time ever, I had groceries delivered. It went relatively well. Target is cheaper than the local supermarket. Just don't try to buy paper towels.
• I ventured outside and experienced actual human contact by visiting my convenience store at five a.m. My husband and I scoped it out before going inside and managed to pick up our essentials (me: nicotine) without encountering any sickly people. My favorite store manager, Rebecca, seemed happy to see me.
• I painted my nails.
• MY ABSOLUTE BIGGEST ACCOMPLISHMENT:  I got my stereo speakers hooked up to my computer. I am currently listening to SiriusXM, and lord how I've missed music!  Music is manna from heaven.

Things I haven't accomplished:

• Being able to sleep. There are a few reasons for that -- I am in mourning (something I'm not ready to write about right now) and I also don't do well with abrupt life changes.
• Stopping eating things that are bad for me. I'm just going to go with it for now. These are desperate times.
• Finding a purpose; but that's about to change.

DO'S AND DON'TS:

• Don't keep cable news on all day. Watch the first fifteen minutes or scan a local news site for Corona news. Then be done with it.
• Do inhale a hot cup of java. That first cup of the day will spark your synapses. 
• Do walk! I'm no exercise fanatic, but the cool, clean air breathes hope into your lungs.
• DO find a hobby. Please don't lean on Netflix as a crutch, or if you do, keep your hands busy while viewing the paltry offerings. I'm a crafter, which alleviates the total Netflix boredom.

I'm a pretty adaptable person. Sometimes it just takes me a while to figure things out. This is my new normal. I'm ready for it. 

And it will get better.

Kenny Rogers

I think Kenny Rogers stumbled into country music.I read his autobiography, and as a musician he was many things, but primarily he was a jazz artist. His career soared when he became a member of the New Christy Minstrels in the sixties and then accidentally became the First Edition's lead singer. His "Just Dropped In" will live forever, thanks to the Coen Brothers and The Big Lebowski. Maybe it was when the group decided to record Mel Tillis's "Ruby" that the thought of a country music career pinged in Kenny's mind.

I don't remember when I became aware of Kenny Rogers as a country artist, perhaps in 1977 when Lucille hit the charts. He didn't exactly sound "country", but Lucille was a damn good song.



By the time "The Gambler" came around in '78, Kenny was firmly ensconced in the folds of country music. Is there a bigger earworm than "you gotta know when to hold 'em; know when to fold 'em"?



Through no fault of his own, or perhaps because of my country proclivities, I came to disdain subsequent Rogers singles. He was exactly what was wrong with country in the late seventies/early eighties.I didn't stop listening to country because of Kenny Rogers - he was simply a symptom of a widespread virus infecting Nashville.Nevertheless, while on vacation in Duluth, Minnesota with my tiny kids and my parents, when my mom learned that Kenny was set to appear in concert, we scooped up the last remaining tickets. We ensconced ourselves in the nosebleed seats and aimed our binoculars. Frankly my only memory of the concert was that Kenny definitely had a command of the stage. I wasn't impressed with Lionel Richie's "Lady" or "You Decorated My Life". This was hardly country.

It was but a year later that Kenny released my all-time favorite Rogers single:



I remember steering my Chevy Malibu up Divide Avenue in 1983 when this next song came on the radio. It sounded eerily like The Bee Gees (duh). Little did I know that I would hear it ten thousand, five hundred and eighty-eight more times. Regardless of its repetitiveness, you gotta give it credit.



I didn't necessarily love Kenny Rogers, but I respected him. Respect is good. He understood the music business like few others.

He has left a legacy. And he never shied away from embracing it:



Rest in peace, Kenny. 

Teleworking - Week One!

I remember the days before computers existed, but that seems so much like ancient history it strains my cortexes to try to conjure the memories. I remember performing my job duties on an IBM Selectric typewriter. I remember when the only means of contacting a co-worker or a boss was by the telephone plugged into the wall. And if their line was in use, oh well; try again later. Answering machines? What? Call waiting? 

I never planned to work at home. Sure, I wanted to, but the nature of my job made that prospect impossible. Until now. Now anything goes. At least as of this week. 

This week everything we ever knew changed. I'm confined to home (unless I want to risk my life, which I don't). Monday, I brought home a hastily-configured work computer because My Old Trusty isn't exactly trustworthy and I couldn't afford to gamble that MOT would actually allow me to connect to my worksite. I spent an hour and a half unconnecting MOT and five minutes hooking up Work Computer (Why do home computers have so many moving parts and connections? Hello, PC companies!)

I'm used to working with two monitors, but alas only one of the monitors I brought home actually works. I'm not going to bitch about small annoyances; our IT Department had approximately four hundred employees to set up in three days. I'm keeping my mouth shut.

Using a strange computer, though, has its challenges. When I need to do my personal tasks, like banking, Work Computer doesn't know any of my logins. It took me far too long to locate and sign into SiriusXM, and when I did, I found that Work Computer's speaker (one speaker) is so tinny it was more annoying than soothing. I quickly signed out. So instead, I listen to cable news all day long, and hear the same stories about Coronavirus over and over; and because there is no new news, I tend to tune it out. It's simply background noise; something to mask the silence.

What have I learned about teleworking? There is good and there is not-so-good.

GOOD:

• I don't need to set an alarm. I get up early and sign in when the system allows me to. 
• I only wash my hair when I feel like it.
• My makeup drawer has not been pulled open all week.
• I don't have to pick out clothes in the morning. I wear the same combination of yoga pants and pullover every day.
• No commute! When my day is over, it's over. Look! I'm home already! 
• I'm more focused, because I have no one to chat with (see "bad").
• I'm saving money -- no frozen dinners; no gassing up the SUV.
• My laundry (and dishes) are done! Saturday laundry day is a relic of the past.

BAD:

• I need a better chair, seriously. My back and legs are killing me. I've tried several configurations of throw pillows and foot rests and still haven't gotten it right.
• Diet: I'm eating too much. And the wrong foods. I keep telling myself to get it together, but my only break is when I can grab a meal from the kitchen, and we're not healthily stocked.
• No fresh air. I will resolve this issue as soon as the weather and wind allow. I will take walks. I need to get out of this room!
• Social interaction withdrawal. Dang, I'm not even an extrovert, but I miss talking to people! I email them and they don't answer right away, and I don't understand why they're not as needy as I am.
• No dividing line. The workplace, at least, was a different environment.I didn't necessarily like going there, but it was different from home.

I will try to offer tips for surviving the work-at-home experience in my next post (hint: have plenty of caffeine on hand), but for now, this is where things stand with me. 

All in all, the pluses outweigh the minuses. But that's week one.  

I've got at least three more weeks to go.

Are You Ready To Work From Home?

Unexpectedly, just like that, I'm becoming a telecommuter (thanks, Corona!) I like to have some time to prepare for big life changes -- four months is ideal; one day isn't.

The good news is, I've calmed down a bit since yesterday. My heart palpitations have temporarily subsided.

When people imagine working from home, they assume the transition will be seamless. Working with computer systems over the years, I know better. Anything that can go wrong will.

My home computer is rather slow. It hasn't bothered me much; most of the stuff I do online does not require lightening-fast response time. If Firefox takes two minutes to load a web page, I take my dog outside or swipe through Twitter on my phone. All those computer fixes I procrastinated about have suddenly become crucial. My Windows 10 setup recalcitrantly refuses to install updates. Google tells me this is a "known issue". I've tried several suggestions with no luck. I'm not going down the road of restarting in safe mode and plucking random "host processes" or anything ending with .NET and willy-nilly deleting them in the misguided hope that something magical will happen (the only thing that'll happen is my PC will stop working all together).

I did manage to conduct some system cleanup. I'd forgotten about cccleaner, which I'd had and used on my previous setup. First of all, it's FREE, but most importantly it's efficient and moron-friendly. cccleaner took care of a bunch of unwanted stragglers. My anti-virus software is stunningly efficient. I use Malwarebytes, which is also FREE. I did purchase a subscription a while back, though, since I was so impressed with it. There are free anti-virus programs that also work well:  I've used AVG in the past. If you are looking for recommendations for any kind of program, go to CNET first.

Since I was panicking yesterday and felt that my failed Windows update was crucial, I impulse-purchased a program called RestorO -- big mistake. Not only did it fail to fix my problem, but it created many problems of its own. It was advertised for $27.99, which at the time seemed like a small price to pay for sweet deliverance. They charged my bank account $30.00, but what's a couple bucks here or there, right? Then my trusty Malwarebytes began signalling me every 30 seconds that RestorO was malicious and was causing PUPs, which sound cute, but aren't. Tired and wary of the constant alerts, I tried to delete RestorO -- it refused to leave. Thus I had to search for another free program for removing guests that wouldn't exit. CNET told me to try Revo Uninstaller. It did the trick! Again, FREE.

I've given up on installing that obdurate Windows update -- sometimes one has to know when to surrender. But I did do some needed purging.

On the non-computer side, I submitted an Amazon order for my favorite coffee, which will be delivered Tuesday. Had I known I'd be separated from fresh hot java, I would have been proactive. All my (many) Amazon packages have been previously delivered to my workplace, so finding something on my doorstep will be new.

I won't have my special pens and highlighters and file folders, but I suppose I will improvise. Truth be told, I'm not feeling this. I predict doom. But it has to be done. Either that or my two hundred hours of PTO time will dissipate in a flash.

All I can do is cross my fingers and pray that it all works. There might be upsides -- stay tuned for updates.

Thanks, Virus -- Thanks A Lot

Get It Now! Prices Slashed! Unlike Hand Sanitizer!

 

I'm old enough to have lived through some trying times. I was eight years old when our president was shot and killed. Even my parents hadn't experienced that before. Granted, they'd lived through World War II, which was traumatic enough. But an assassin propping his rifle atop a window ledge and firing it at the president? It became a tired question:  "Where were you when Kennedy was shot?" Of course, no one asks that anymore, except perhaps inside nursing homes.

In 2001, we all felt like the world was exploding. I was at work that Tuesday morning, headphones plugged into my portable radio, when I heard about a plane crashing into the World Trade Center. The internet was clumsy then. The only news site I could maneuver to was MSNBC. My workplace's workout room had one TV mounted on the wall, and little by little, a cluster of us converged beneath it. We didn't know what was happening -- no one did. As the morning ticked on, reality sank in. Some of us trundled outside for morning break and we scanned the sky for wayward airplanes. Suddenly the question became, "Where were you on nine-eleven?"

I've never experienced a pandemic. Neither did my parents. My grandparents did. There were no antibiotics or ventilators in 1919 -- there was palliative care administered by nurses wearing white caps and white hosiery. There were priests conducting last rites. In 2020 we suddenly have another one. What? In the twenty-first century?

I'm someone who always thinks everything will turn out okay. When news of the virus was first reported, I felt it was completely overblown. I might have even clucked my tongue while watching the reports. In my defense most of the news is overblown. Then suddenly my workplace began asking strange questions, such as, what's your phone number; do you have a computer at home? My pitiful timing caused me to take today off, and lo and behold, we received an email that informed us we would need to prepare to work from home for a month. I'm not prepared! My computer won't connect to the workplace system -- something about an authenticator app that's not configured correctly (I learned after three hours of trying various remedies and finally reaching someone from our IT Department). I'm counting on my fingers the number of vacation hours I've stored up, which I was counting on as a dollar cushion for when I retire in June. I'm finally resigned to going in to work on Monday (to a ghost town) to get the needed system do-dads in order to slink back home, away from the germs and (fingers crossed) do my job from home.

I'm in the vulnerable category -- over sixty; lungs compromised. I have a stuffy nose -- do I have it??

And I don't have enough coffee! I'm going to run out of coffee and if I have to work here at home, how will I exist? I can't send my sixty-five-year-old spouse out to buy me coffee. I wasn't prepared for this! How did this thing happen? My Amazon packages that will be delivered to my workplace will sit on the shelf for a month. HR sent an email that said someone lives with someone who was potentially exposed to the virus. Who is this person?? The one who sits in front of me?? Someone I sat in a meeting with yesterday, blissfully unaware??

S-T-R-E-S-S.

All over a stupid-ass virus. Thank you, Wuhan.

I was trying to think of songs to calm me, and for some reason I came up with this. Maybe it's the tinkling intro.



I'll be better tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow will look brighter.

It has to.

Changes And Life Diversions

 

I was a prolific cross-stitcher in the eighties. I don't remember how I picked up the hobby, but working second shift at the hospital lent itself to quiet contemplation. Around eight p.m. the clamor quieted and the nurses and I all pulled our current projects out of our bags and sat behind the nurses' station and stitched. I have an impatient, busy mind, and needlework soothed me. It wasn't so much the finished project as the doing. Once I had framed and hung as many projects as my home could bear without turning into a tchotchke shop, I advanced to wedding gift samplers and tiny Christmas ornaments; anything to keep the spill flowing.

There came a point when I just stopped. Life became hectic -- I suddenly, unexpectedly acquired a "career" that consumed me. Then I became divorced and subsequently remarried and (thanks to my husband) began writing and recording songs. Every spare moment was spent writing. Hobbies? No time!

As I now ease into retirement, I'm ready once again for quiet. TV makes me testy. I can't find any downloadable library books that hold my interest. Writing songs is as interesting to me as the latest politically correct television drama. (Plus, TV is much more interesting when I can distract myself.)

Money will be tight once I finally pull the plug, but I could work until I die and then explain to God why I wasted my last few productive years. So I'm back to cross stitching! I've searched various websites, tried-and-true ones and Amazon. Frankly, I'm disappointed. Why are all the cross stitch kits so kitschy? I don't like cute sayings; I like pretty. I'm not into Jolly Old St. Nick -- I want a babbling stream or a stark winter tableau or at least something elegant. I've been searching, fruitlessly. I need to stock up. The best site I've found? Good old Amazon. I think Amazon aggregates all the best offerings, because my old standbys like Herrschners and The Stitchery only have the kits I'd want but can find cheaper on Amazon (thank you, Prime!).

Here's my first project after coming back; and yes, I found it on Amazon. It took me three months to complete and was a bit of a challenge after twenty years away. I haven't ironed or framed it yet, but hey, I did it!

No Jolly St. Nick For Me

 

 

I've already started Project Number Two -- a less challenging floral piece. And I just ordered two "Snap And Stitch" projects of my pet babies from DMC. Counted cross stitch will once again become an obsession. I just wish I could find more eye-catching designs.

I should be set for a while. If you're related to me, you know what you're getting for Christmas!

Changes

 

I don't know what it's like not to work. I will soon find out. My work life has been a meandering road. I endured some uncomfortable situations and experienced unexpected highs. I had a laissez faire attitude toward work in my early twenties, likely because I possessed no skills other than the ability to type and a quick mind. A job was a job. If I hated my current one, I'd find another. They all paid little above minimum wage, so my gauge was whether I could tolerate it and the people who worked there (the deal-breaker was usually the people). I tried retail (and liked it); I tried secretarial (and despised it). I lucked into a hospital position that last eight glorious years; all in all my favorite all-time job.

In 1990 I tried desperately to secure a position with a health insurance company that'd decided to expand its operations to the far-flung prairie; sat on a stool in my garage and smoked and practiced answering interview questions. I hated my current position and was desperate to escape it. My only calling card was a knowledge of medical terminology gained during my years at St. Alexius. I knew nothing about processing insurance claims. They only hired me because one of their initial choices dropped out and I was first runner-up. During the three weeks I waited for a phone call, after I'd grown despondent, I silently accepted my woeful lot in life as a farm records secretary. When the call finally came, Mister Sun beamed through my plate glass window. I didn't know nor care what claim processing entailed; just that I'd been delivered. Somehow I knew this was where I belonged.

Thirty years later, I'm still in the medical insurance game. I went from claims examiner to assistant supervisor to supervisor to manager, backsliding at my next company to examiner and then upticking to trainer. When I accepted the job with my current employer, I had a bit of a chip on my shoulder. I was punching below my weight. But being a manager, honestly, simply meant juggling balls in the air. I thought I was a phenom, when in fact I was just "capable".

I've been a trainer for seventeen years. As one ages, they settle and make the most of the tableau offered. I made the most of it. As an extreme introvert, I'm amazed at how I managed to mentor people. I still don't quite understand it, but maybe that's one of the little things we accept with humility and tuck in our pocket.

Soon all that will end. I'm not certain I want it to. Why am I ambivalent about retiring? Isn't this what all of us yearns for? I think maybe I'm afraid of what comes next. Will my brain wither and die? I don't feel old. Shoot, I'm still writing my novel! Will I grow fat and plop myself in front of the TV all day? I need a plan. A goal. Sixty-five-year-olds can still have goals, you know. I don't feel a day over sixty.

I will let you know as soon as I know.

Thus the story continues...