I thought Adam was moving on. (Professionally. To my knowledge, he's perfectly healthy.) I prepared myself for this in the latter part of 2011, mentally distancing myself, being more critical, looking forward to the fresh perspective someone new would bring.
It turns out that I was wrong. Many, many (many) things have changed at work, but Adam looks to be a constant. My first Industry boss will remain my Industry boss, even as the group changes around us and leadership ponders altering the infrastructure in ways that might be dramatic.
But nothing is certain.
I grow weary of exploring options. Gathering data. Various proposals. Tentative timelines.
We work, making progress toward some fluid goal that slips through our fingers when we try to catch it.
We try to do good, but when realizing that you can't please everyone, it grows increasingly difficult to muster the energy to please anyone. Saying no immediately starts looking more appealing than potentially saying yes at some point. And so it's routine to sign messages with 'thanks and apologies, Katie.'
"Pay attention to me," we all seem to whisper. "I'm smart and talented and work very hard." Eyes blink and heads droop when we're shushed. Sitting slumped at desks, tapping at keyboards and peering at enlarged documents on shiny monitors.
I keep reminding myself that I love my job. I freely acknowledge I'm blessed to have it. I sometimes lose myself in the work - start graphing data or focus all my mental energy on numbers that march across rows and down columns, telling stories I can decipher.
"This is a mess," someone noted after I told one such story.
"This is reality," I replied, too apathetic to get defensive over my poor, sweet project. "It's messy."
We stared at each other for a moment before he suggested I give it a bit more time and re-run the numbers after we'd collected more data.
"I can do that," I agreed, ready to end the meeting and pick up guacamole on my way home as a way to self-soothe. "Sometimes things go right in the end."
And I'm hoping that's the case with my career in flux.
We work, making progress toward some fluid goal that slips through our fingers when we try to catch it.
We try to do good, but when realizing that you can't please everyone, it grows increasingly difficult to muster the energy to please anyone. Saying no immediately starts looking more appealing than potentially saying yes at some point. And so it's routine to sign messages with 'thanks and apologies, Katie.'
"Pay attention to me," we all seem to whisper. "I'm smart and talented and work very hard." Eyes blink and heads droop when we're shushed. Sitting slumped at desks, tapping at keyboards and peering at enlarged documents on shiny monitors.
I keep reminding myself that I love my job. I freely acknowledge I'm blessed to have it. I sometimes lose myself in the work - start graphing data or focus all my mental energy on numbers that march across rows and down columns, telling stories I can decipher.
"This is a mess," someone noted after I told one such story.
"This is reality," I replied, too apathetic to get defensive over my poor, sweet project. "It's messy."
We stared at each other for a moment before he suggested I give it a bit more time and re-run the numbers after we'd collected more data.
"I can do that," I agreed, ready to end the meeting and pick up guacamole on my way home as a way to self-soothe. "Sometimes things go right in the end."
And I'm hoping that's the case with my career in flux.
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