more bounce to the ounce
I WILL NEVER FOLLOW/YOUR TRUTH DISEASED AND HOLLOW
Oh FUCK my work is trying to kill me. Because I am at a certain exalted management “level,” corporate reserves the right to periodically waste my time with a mandatory series of “leadership” seminars. Dear Whoever Thought This Up: I’ll lead your STUPID FACE. TO DOOM.
This one was on “decision-making,” and the facilitator was fond of the verb “grasp” when referring to our understanding of a concept. Hey lady, grasp THIS, I kept thinking. You may infer that I did not have the best attitude toward this whole thing.
There were a few dumb small group exercises and a lot of dumb slides, but the majority of the session was spent on a “case study” that is literally a problem my company has struggled with for a decade. We were supposed to “think outside the box” and come up with a short “elevator pitch” of how we would solve it. Seriously? I am tempted to mock up an invoice for my consultancy fees and send it to the organizers.
The room was too small for me to even successfully steal anything, which sucks because the variety of lovely Sharpie markers for making our name tags was impressive. Three shades of purple alone!
SPACE NEEDLE/MYSTERY TIME
I had a business meeting in Seattle and brought the kid for a little vacation after it was over. We walked about 8 miles a day, according to our FitBits and smartphones, ate at the same pizza place (Serious Pie) twice (because it was so good we couldn’t stop talking about it), took the ferry to Bainbridge for no reason but a cheap boat ride, got lost in a fancy neighborhood near the UW Arboretum. It was good times. Sometimes I feel slightly alarmed at how much I like hanging out with the teen, and I quiz myself excessively—I’m still being a parent, right? I’m not one of those “trying too hard to be cool mom” people? But there are probably worse things than getting along and watching the same TV shows and having a kid play guitar at the foot of your bed every night. In fact I know there are.
On a different weekend I did an “escape room” in Milwaukee with my family, my parents, and my sister and brother-in-law, and although I was very wary that it would be dumb it was actually kind of fun. I did not understand why we had to “escape,” though, as the set-up was that we were in a serial killer’s apartment and were trying to find the identity of her next victim. Why are WE locked up when the killer is free? I feel like this is poor police procedure and Lt. Joe Kenda would not have stood for it.
POWER TO THE PEOPLE
In the weird half-week before 4th of July, I was walking from the El to work and there was a union strike action happening at the corner of Kinzie and Wabash. Signs, walking in a circle, chanting. I was waiting for the light to change at the far opposite corner, and the morning glare was too terrible for my old eyes to see their signs, but: right on, workers. Get what’s yours.
Fellow-pedestrian-business-lady, similar age bracket to me, walked up next to me. We made eye contact for some reason.
Business Lady: Jeez. Can you believe this protest? So noisy!
Me [with shruggy gesture]: It’s their right.
BL: Well it’s a STUPID right.
Me: …
Later that day a disheveled and unwell unfortunate person, twigs in his hair and shopping bags stuffed with napkins, was standing on State Street aggressively holding out a lighter to everyone who passed, whether they were smoking or not. “Miss? Sir! May I offer you a light? Ma’am?” Maybe it was weird, but I still hold the street Prometheus, with his gift of fire, in higher regard than the fancy lady who was mad at the right of the people peaceably to assemble.
—mimi smartypants has nothing to lose but her chains.