FTE Tuesday

With the drama done, I'm focused on getting myself brought on full time at the new gig. The new gig was contract-to-hire and - originally - I was supposed to have been a full time employee after two to three months.

Not that the contracting part of the new gig has been bad. In contrast to the other staffing company I worked for (and all of the ones I've heard colleagues talk about), my current staffing company has been good. Really good.

As in, they are beating on the doors to get me hired as a FTE. Which is the total opposite of my previous company - who let me sit as a contractor for well over five years and seemed perfectly content to let me stay that way.

Being a contractor has some upsides, but I've always wanted to be part of the team.

The new staffing company was keen to get me situated - it was just my current client is slow to move on just about anything.

Thinking back to how they agreed to hire me on contract - it was a month of zero communication from them before they suddenly asked me to come aboard. That's not terribly normal anywhere else but here - apparently.

In their defense, my understanding of the situation is that they'd signed a contract to provide a contract worker for X amount of hours. My predecessor, Anjin-san, had worked through some of those hours - but a not insignificant amount of hours remained on the contract.

And my client was obligated to pay for those hours whether or not a contractor was working them or not. Were they to hire me before they'd burned through those hours, they would be doling out twice the money for the same labor. Once for FTE me, and once again to pay out the contract.

Not that I'd get paid twice - and not that they'd get twice the labor out of me.

So - my hire date wouldn't arrive until I'd burned through the hours. I'd check with my account rep and they gave me an estimate of mid-August.

Now, the discriminating reader will note that I am writing this in the latter half of October.

Yes. This is true.

And I'd asked about this. My Boss is a great person - but they are literally the eye of the storm in this place. Constantly getting calls or texts or rushing from meeting to meeting at a breakneck pace. They are incredibly smart - and grasp very complicated things in one pass - all the while maintaining several other incredibly complicated things in their head at the same time.

I literally do not know how they do this.

And I hate to add to their burdens. But eventually, questions about holiday plans emerge and re-emerge often enough to signify there are going to be problems ahead if I don't get a handle on when my FTE status will begin.

Because once it does - the magic of five weeks of vacation can begin. There are some restrictions, but you literally can start using them as soon as you come on board. It's ri-DONK-ulous - and I want it. Mom's planning a family vacation down south and gosh darn it, we're going to do that. And I want me a holiday, too.

It's been almost eight years since I was paid for the day after Thanksgiving. Staffing companies don't do that sort of thing. My last staffing company had a few set holidays - but the add ons didn't make the cut. If you wanted that day, you paid in PTO.

My current company doesn't even do that. If my client isn't open for business - as of right now - I don't get paid. I don't even have the option to come in, because the place is closed.

Which - how do you say? - SuuuuUuuuuuuuucks.

To counteract this, my staffing company called me out of the blue before Labor Day and told me they had a nice surprise for me. I'm thinking They're going to pay me for Labor Day! Which seemed like a good guess. Only I didn't manage to get a hold of them until after the holiday.

I'm thinking they're going to send me a gift card or something. Meh.

No. Instead, they're giving me a 15% raise on my salary. Which, by the way, is the largest raise (percentage or absolute dollars) I have ever received.

I was so dumbfounded by this move, that I don't think I adequately thanked my account rep. I just was like "uh, can I get a paper copy that details this?" I literally thought my rep had misspoken. There's no WAY they meant that much...

But they did. And they made the raise retroactive to the last pay period.

!!!

So the following Friday, I get a paycheck that is better than any that preceded it. I immediately made plans to get E and I out of the house for some celebrating. But it got delayed, and then - well, you know what happened.

I still owe her a night out, by the way.

Anyway, I'm hesitant to bother the boss about bringing me on as FTE and now I'm 15% less inclined to do so. After all, there is no way my client is going to agree to be on the hook for this new pay rate.

One of the things that genuinely shocks me about my interview with my current Boss is how blunt I was about money. Well, that - and the fact that I showed up in blue jeans. But mostly the money thing.  I laid out a slightly inflated version of my compensation at CorpWorld and then proceeded to spell out my expectation to continue getting paid at least that as a FTE.

Contract work often is higher than FTE rate - at least in my experience - and I was very clear about not wanting to contract for rate X - and then go FTE at X minus anything. Which is pretty blunt coming from the likes of me. I'm truly terrible at the deal - always have been - and getting all ultimatum-ish with a prospective employer was well outside of my norm.

But I did it, and my Boss indicated this would not be a problem. Score!

So, I'd coasted past labor day - happy to soak up my temporary rate of X +15% until I went FTE at just plan X.

No hurry, man... just take your time...

But like I said, the PTO situation would ultimately be an issue. Knowing the speed of things, I didn't want machinery to start right before Thanksgiving, because odds are it wouldn't stop until right before Christmas. And I did not want that.

Which is why I was bugging the boss about bringing me on right around the time I was talking with that Corporate Recruiter. This needs to stop. I need to settle down.

In my heart of hearts, I'd imagined a scenario where I'd tell my Boss I had this other offer and that I was willing to stay but only at X +15%. The Gordon Gekko approach.

No doubt there are some worlds where that is the norm, but that really wasn't how I wanted to do this. I'd only spoken to the Recruiter so I had a plan B in the event there was some foul up and I couldn't go FTE. And it really struck me as a total jerkwad move.

I'd spoken to Morlock, the sole developer at the new gig and they assured me that my hire was a sure thing. "You just gotta get after the Boss. It'll happen. No question."

Morlock said something else, though. Something about my classification as an FTE: "You're probably going to be classified at Level 1, which means your salary will be set at the lowest level coming on."

Now, aside from the Prince of Darkness, I don't know anyone more pessimistic about things than Morlock. Morlock has been convinced that they've been about to be fired for fourteen years.
You don't talk to Morlock when you're looking for sunshine.

But Morlock is big on the details, so it would be foolish not to address this issue. If there is no salary negotiation when I come on board, my Client might mistakenly give me the wrong agreement.

This is the one thing that could go wrong. And it's my future salary. So, on the same day that I'm telling the Recruiter that I won't take the gig - I'm sitting down with the Boss making sure there are no misunderstandings about what my rate will be going forward.

Without batting an eye, the Boss says "X -11%"

My initial reaction was stunned silence. Then I talked about my expectation that there would not be so much of a fall off when I went to FTE.

See what I did there? - As I said, I SUCK at the deal.

My Boss thought for a moment, then said "You want me to put words in your mouth?"

And I said "Yes."

Totally. SUCK. At the deal.

And my Boss said "You want us to try to meet you halfway?"

And I said "That'd be great."

Understand, this would amount to hoping for "X - 5.5%" Yeah, that would be greeeEEeeeeat.

With that, I go to lunch. Leaving things in the Boss's hands is reflex at this point. The Boss has half a dozen impossible things to do before the end of the day and always manages to get them done. This is just another one.

Also, I'm just not up for some kind of staredown. I know I should be, but I'm not.

After lunch, I come back to find an email from HR entitled "Letter of Hire."

I open it to find a form letter attachment congratulating me on my new status as a Full Time Employee -

-At the going rate of "X - 11%"

They've scheduled me for a two hour meeting with HR at 9am on Monday to finalize the paperwork.

The wrong paperwork.

I immediately head into my Boss's office. "Did you see that email from HR?" I'm trying not to get too worked up, but in the back of my head I'm doing the math. Going from "X + 15%" to "X - 11%" is a hell of a lot of awful.

My Boss's response is immediate. "We'll fix this. I need to speak to the CFO."

The CFO is a whirlwind of stress that buzzes around my Boss wherever they go. Awhile ago the Boss and I were grinding out some manual work at 11pm and the CFO called - they felt their monitor was too dim and could my Boss "run up with a new one?" 

Seriously.

But this is the person who needs to sign off on correcting my wages. My Boss has their ear - and this is just another impossible deed they will accomplish before 9am on Monday.

My Boss is a good person. I believe they will do this thing. I email them the specific number we talked about and thank them for their time.

The number is "X - 5.5%"

And I go forth and I write the Recruiter and tell them "Thank You For Considering Me."

*     *     *

Now, in that very email - I'd left open only a sliver of hope that the recruiter would hold on until I'd gotten my salary situation sorted out. I'd studiously left out any mention of other jobs in my salary discussions - because (and I'm seriously doubting this right now) I thought that was the honorable thing to do.

If the only thing I used the Corporate gig for was as leverage against my current employer - well, it sure felt like I wasted a whole bunch of smart people's time. I didn't want to do that. 

This is stupid thinking. I realize this now. But it was what I was thinking at the time. Don't hit the Boss over the head with this. There is a stack of red tape that needs to be sorted out - and they don't need to feel you're threatening them. It's not a good way to forge a working alliance.

Over the weekend, I was too busy to do much thinking about work. We had our annual gathering of college friends and their families at my house and it was wall to wall socializing.

And great. Being jacked up about the work situation gave me a subject to unload about - but as there was no resolution it was just venting stored up stress. 

What's funny, is when I think about how I described the salary snafu, I'd unconsciously made an edit to where my salary stood. Yes, I told my friends, my job is offering less money than we agreed to, but my Boss is going to make it right.

Make it right.

"Making it right," would be getting me back to X. But that's not what was in the works. My Boss had offered to get me from "X - 11%" up to "X - 5.5%" 

I like my Boss a lot. Maybe that's why I wanted to paper over what was happening. I cannot believe they would do that to me. Not the Boss.

After a whirlwind weekend filled with old friends - and nowhere near enough catching up - everyone goes home.

And I go back to work.

*     *     *

Monday

I'm supposed to meet with HR at 9am. I generally get into the office around 8:30 or so - this job is incredibly flexible about home obligations. Last week - I got to walk with my kids to school every day. Gave me an entirely new perspective on mornings. I love that flexibility. 

Quality of life, man.

But this morning - I'm dropping off the kids by car because I need time to check in with the Boss and see if HR is up to speed on some new arrangement for my salary.

-and I forgot my passport.

I was supposed to bring my social security card to the HR meeting, but I could use a passport for most of it. My SS card is in the safety deposit box and between 12:40pm on Friday and Monday morning - I hadn't managed to get it out of the bank.

And this morning, I'd forgotten my passport. So, back home I go. I sprint upstairs and get the damn thing - then manage to make it to work at 8:45. HR is in a separate building about ten minutes away.

I need to check in to see if my Boss is there - or if there's an email.

They're not. And there isn't.

I'm going to meet HR blind.

I head over - resolving in my head not to sign anything that shows a salary figure of "X -11%." I'm not going down that road. 

But if it's "X -5.5%" You takin' that? Huh?

I'm rewinding back to Friday. Back when I told the Recruiter no. I'd been thinking about quality of life, flexible hours - lots of PTO. But the Recruiter's offer was long on one thing in particular: money.

Gone now.

I dash into the HR building and fumble my way into a cluster of office cubes. There are a brace of staffers there clearly waiting for me. An incredibly poised woman announces that while they could start my meeting - they had late information that something about my salary was still in flux.

She then pointed out that this business does not negotiate on salary. For my classification - there is one rate - the rate they offered. She mentioned there was some possibility of a re-classification - but that would be something that should have been settled before I met with HR. 

"We were not told of this until now."

I sympathize. They are in an awkward position. They expected a pro forma form processing session - and there is something to negotiate. And they are not allowed to negotiate. 

Those sorts of things take place before things reach HR. And HR was not happy about being left with someone else's mess.

My mess.

I told them we should reschedule and I went back to my office. 

Back at the office - I'd gotten another email from the Recruiter. They said they would wait until I met with the people I needed to before accepting my withdrawal as a candidate.

That was incredibly generous of them. I have a moment's flash of jumping at their offer - but I remember CorpWorld. I remember years of not getting a raise followed by years of dread - thinking I'd be laid off.

And less vacation. I hadn't gotten my golden handcuffs, but I wanted them.

*     *     *

When the Boss finally did show up - they had no news for me. They'd been unable to reach the usually omnipresent CFO. Naturally, the CFO was taking a day of vacation and were unreachable. 

I'd entertained thoughts of keeping the Recruiter's offer in my back pocket when and if salary negotiations began - but it didn't look like they'd begin anytime soon. Meantime, the Recruiter's offer was about to turn into a pumpkin while I sat waiting for the goddamn CFO.

I knew I would get to see the CFO on Tuesday, though. My group was scheduled to meet with him so he could give a presentation on our financial situation.

At first, this sounded ominous - but the Boss assured me this was just one of those regular speeches to the troops right around the time that budgets and financial indicators were in flux. "Nothing to worry about."

Nothing at all. And the Boss will handle your salary thing. Bank on it.

Before the end of the afternoon, I contacted the Recruiter to thank them for waiting on me, but that I had been unable to contact the people I needed today. 

They didn't respond.

Pumpkin.

No closer to FTE-hood and feeling ill, I called it a day.

*     *     * 

Tuesday

It started out like a sitcom. I'd been asked by YoungPM to put together some process documents on the work I was doing. They'd asked for a sample document to review by the end of the week, and then 17 more in about two weeks.

The day after they'd asked for a sample document - two days before they said they wanted it done - they asked if it was done.

Process documents are a piece of cake, so it was done. I sent it along within 12 minutes. Here.

No 'thank you.' No 'Sorry about needing it earlier." No response at all. You're welcome.

That was YoungPM last week. This week, Tuesday, they're asking for all 17 process documents by Thursday. That'd be more than a week earlier than what they'd originally asked for. 

YoungPM would like to schedule a marathon meeting with me to crank out the documents - YoungPM and Me working together, in my office.

1) Process documents are a piece of cake

2) I do virtually every part of the 17 processes I need to document; and 

3) WTF would having another person in the room help me with?

All this adds up to a PM who doesn't know what they are doing.

I tell YoungPM I'll make the documents and send them along to review. Once YoungPM has had a look at them, we can meet to discuss edits and cleanup. That's something that might need two people.

I'm looking at process docs from other units and they have dates on them like July. I'm asked to get mine last week, and do them in five days.

This is the PM I will work for the bulk of my UX work.

I grind out docs until it's time to go to the CFO's presentation.

It's for all the admin and IS staff - and it's Goddawful. It begins with the CEO talking in pulseless tones about our 'vision' and strategic goal of becoming a 'center for excellence.' At more than one point the CFO cues the CEO into which group he is speaking to - so the CEO can insert the name of one of our groups into his canned lines.

Meh.

Next up is the CFO. They are a much more dynamic and engaging speaker - but their material has me slackjawed almost immediately. The CFO puts up a chart of our primary funding source over the past decade - it is an absolute flatline. No new money is coming in - and the CFO makes it clear that this picture - at least from this funding source - is not going to change.

The CFO then launches into a whiz-bang discussion of the various strategies that will be employed to gain new funding sources. The most notable among them is borrowing the equivalent of 10% of our current gross income as 'seed money' to fund 'new initiatives.'

I want to barf. I went five years without a raise at my last job. I know for a fact that no one at this gig has gotten a raise in the last five years. 

At this point, the CFO - I'm not making this up - begins to tear up as they thank the staff for their sacrifices over the past several years.

I start to feel that familiar haunting feeling again, right in between my shoulder blades.

I have faced flatlined COLA and downsizing before, and I don't ever want to do that again.

This is a roomful of people who have experienced everything short of layoffs - and their CFO is telling them they are about to go into debt to spend their way out of their problems.

I'm starting to freak out. The spectre of professional death.

This is silly.

But that's just what it feels like. The instant the presentation is over, I go over to my Boss and ask if he has any news. 

The Boss looks up, "I literally just walked into the room before the presentation started. The CFO hasn't responded to my messages."

I can't spontaneously interrupt the CFO and CEO for my problems right now - but I need them to sort me out. If I can get at least signed up at a decent rate, I could hang on for a few years and soak up some good PTO. Get some vacay with the fam....

I'm car-pooling back with the SilentOne - a co-worker of mine who (as you might expect) doesn't talk much. Post meeting they are more chatty, though. They think the CFO's tears are rehearsed - and they tell me they've never seen a meeting like that one before.

I blow into my office and check to see if the Recruiter has gotten back to me - nothing.

Pumpkin. You blew it.

Morlock shows up to complete the day. Morlock is, without a doubt, somewhere on the Aspberger's spectrum. They are obsessed with dates - are incapable of summarizing anything - and are bruisingly blunt about everything. 

Molock is mad because of something I've screwed up. Morlock is capable of keeping a truly insane amount of detail in their RAM at all times. Conversations with Morlock begin with a muttered "Last month I showed you this line of code - do you remember?"

I never remember. With Morlock - I write everything down. Morlock believes nothing you say unless you  can point to a primary source. "How do you know this? What is it based on? Okay. Fair enough."

I can't remember what Morlock was mad about that afternoon as I was barely listening to them. If you ask Morlock what time it is, they will tell you how to build a watch. They will then explain the intricate ways in which time is recorded and calculated according to an episode of Nova that they watched a few years ago.

If you interrupt, Morlock will get angry. If you try to change the subject, Morlock will get angrier still. They. Are. Not. Finished. Yet.

I have sat through innumerable sessions with Morlock spouting gouts of information in a steady stream. It's like listening to an audiobook of the final chapters of Kafka's 'The Castle' cranked up to double speed. 

At first you listen, then your brain requests a time out. Then you fidget nervously as you realize you haven't followed a single word for the past ten minutes. Morlock is bound to ask you a question and you won't be able to answer. Morlock will know you haven't been listening - and that will make everything worse.  

You invent a reason to leave. I need to move my car, I need to go to the bathroom, I need to go throw up for a few hours. Anything. You just need to get clear - get some air - something.

Morlock tells me we have to have a meeting later in the week to review some things. They are incredulous that I don't just know these things. "Don't you remember? We talked about this in June"

Whatever excuse I make, I get out and spend the next few minutes stalking around the building desperately replaying the past day.

I will be paid significantly less than I'd signed on for.

I will get lots of time off.

It will be years before I will get my next raise.

I will work hand in glove with Morlock.

I will perform my UX work in service to YoungPM.

But I keep going back to the first item. I'd made a deal to be paid X. And it wasn't going to happen. I'd botched the follow up negotiations, but really - this is not something I should have been discovering this late in the game. If there were issues with my salary requirements - or questions - they could have asked me. I'd said to the Recruiter that the one thing that would make me bolt from my job was them welching on my salary. 

And here they were welching. And what was I doing about it?

And what was keeping me from taking the Corporate gig all this time? Sensei had already greenlighted the work. They'd been there long enough to know their crew was solid.

Their PTO was only 4 weeks first year, but with 12 paid holidays, that was closer to decent.

I'd had the Corporate gig's VP on the phone and asked about flexible time - they'd said they support flexible schedules.

Why the Hell had I let that one go??

My current gig was noble work. Lord knows the Boss could use some help digging out of the mud - and I'd envisioned a long, hard slog that led ultimately to me helping land a collossus of a new system with the grace of a butterfly.

But nothing in the culture that I'd seen in seven months suggested this gig was anywhere near putting my skills to work. I would slog along in the basement and if any system did land - it would not be something I could point to at the end and say "See, I helped make that."

Years of underpaid slog that would appear on my resume as "treading water."

And the corporate gig was formal UX - with a dev team ready in the slips. They are making stuff for a national product. This would have been work you'd refer to on a resume - bank on it.

And you told them to go away.

Twice.

And there's nothing in my inbox.

*     *     *

Bong!

I'm outside the building, heading towards the coffee place across the street. My phone informs me I have an email from the Recruiter. It's about four hours old.

I'd had WiFi off by mistake - and cellular data in the basement just doesn't happen. Now that I'm back in the surface world my phone is again bathed in 4G.

I open the email - it's one line.

"Let's connect today, Okay?"

I mash the screen like a meth addict. "Sounds like a plan."

Still nothing for sure, but more than I'd had all day. They may just want to formally tell me to buzz off, but after this day, I'll take anything.

It's almost 1pm and I wait a whole three hours for my Boss to come by and say something about the status of my becoming an FTE. Or if they've spoken to the CFO. 

But nothing happens. I go outside and call the recruiter. They don't answer and I leave a message on their mobile.

I go back down in the basement and finish my shift. No word, not even an email about my salary situation - from anyone.

5pm comes and goes, I'm checking in with E to see if she'd be okay with the corporate gig. Of course, that's a terribly loaded question - and E is of course awesome. She's good with whatever I think is the right move.

And - more than any other thing I know at that moment - I know I cannot let this Corporate gig get away from me. I need to have this. 

The Recruiter calls me back just as the family is piling into the car to go get our flu shots. 

Recruiter is cordial. "Good to hear back from you."

I try to be calm and direct. "Do you still need an Interaction Designer?"

Recruiter laughs. "Does this mean you're taking the job?"

I'm seeing flashbacks of Juno's note on the wall. If you're still in...

"I am if you still need one."

Recruiter laughs again. "You know we do! The UX director will be so excited to hear this!"

The kids are pounding on things and I'm supposedly backing out of the driveway when all this is happening - but honestly - it's all a blur.

I got it. Days after selling my professional future down the river - I finally realized what I was doing. I was taking the safe, in-hand thing because it was less immediate risk. 

And I remembered CorpWorld, but good.

But not all of them are the same - and regardless, you should never march backward on pay - not while you have a choice. I was letting my foot off the gas because I didn't want to offend my Boss. 

But I remember how totally jazzed I was after meeting the Corporate gig folks. I felt strong, competent, useful. 

And contrasting that with how I've felt at my current job - there was no choice to make.

I'm going Corporate again. This time, as a FTE.

And I'm good with it. 

Happy even.

Funny thing? If I'd have been made an FTE at the Nonprofit on the original three month schedule?

I'd have never even taken that Recruiter's call.

You just never know.

Golden Handcuffs

One of the key perks of my current gig is the vacation plan. You get five weeks paid vacation your first year of work. In your second year you get six weeks.

I know.

Take a moment to let that work into your system.

Yeah. That's a life altering amount of vacation for a new job.

It's what I was thinking when I wrote this:

Dear [Recruiter], 

I wasn't able to speak to all the powers that be [at my current job]. Friday is a low staff day I'm afraid. 

I have a meeting scheduled for Monday at 9am to sort everything out on what my status is going forward. 

I must tell you the signs point towards my remaining at [my current job]. 

If you need an answer from me this evening - then rather than drag this out I would withdraw as a candidate for your position. 

Your offer was more than generous, and your UX team is very impressive. What was beyond the reach of any offer at this point was my family's need for professional stability. [My current job] is offering me a fluid schedule and an almost alarming amount of PTO. 

With my wife's PTO situation in flux we need one of us to be ready to do the kid pickup and drop off. My wife has done the lion's share of that duty while I was at [CorpWorld] -  now it's her turn to go for the brass ring. Where we're at now - this just seems like the best option. 

Please extend my regrets to [your UX] team. It was exhilarating talking with them. 

Thank you for considering me.

That was Friday.

Shiny Shiny

About two weeks after I accepted my current job - I paid a visit to a magical place.

I do corporate UX work, and while I've been in some fairly rarified environments - my clients have been truly mundane flavors of the craft. Design this form so people scan it and throw it away. This web page needs a bunch more fields added to it - make them fit without additional expense.

This place I visited - two weeks before I left CorpWorld - was altogether different.

This place was UX Candy Land.

On literally every level, beginning with the invite. I get pinged on LinkedIn by a guy I've never heard of. That's pretty typical of LinkedIn - but usually it's some parasitical recruiter "Hi, I've got an exciting opportunity for a seasoned UXer in Portland."

This came from the president of a design firm.

Dude. Okay, I'll look into this.

His company was local. Practically across the street from CorpWorld - and I'd never heard of it.
I scanned their website and one thing became clear.

This man was the President of a Design Firm.

As in, this place was a serious deal. Design and construction for big ticket clients. My experience is in web interface - the ephemeral bits we use to manipulate our digital marionettes.

Candy Land? They made Things.

Medical devices that they fashioned in their very own machine shop. They gave me a tour and showed me a place that looked like M5.

Open concept working spaces.
Conference rooms packed with spiffy gear and youthful pros.
A hall filled with their award winning creations - medical devices that saved lives.
This wasn't a business - it was a cause.

It.
Was.
AWESOME.

They were looking for UX contacts in the area, because all their custom devices would have screens and would need UI.

Oh, and they sold things all over the world. International travel might be involved.

The President took me out to lunch and picked my brain about UX. I had him rolling in the aisle.

I know, Right??

But you've read my blog before, so you know this wasn't my springboard to UX demigod.

I was upfront. I told the President that I'd literally just taken a new job and couldn't in good faith bail out on my new employers.

This wasn't as hard as it might sound - I mean, this was a shop where most of the design team had PhDs. There is a big difference between making the President laugh and winning a slot on a team like that.

But mostly, I couldn't stomach the visual of my transformation from charming UX professional to unprincipled toady. Yes, I know I said I had a job already, but I'd ditch that for you. Won't you hire me?

Better to enjoy being briefly well thought of than forever pigeonholed as a synchophant. I offered to pass on the contact info for any UXers I knew in the area. And that was that.

As it turned out, all the UX folks I knew were gainfully and happily employed. I referred Stimpy to him, but I think Stimpy was stabilizing and not looking to jump again.

For the President - it was probably a noon hour shot to hell, but for me - it was amazing. I felt validated as a professional. He called me.

Plus - free lunch!

*     *     *

I have thought about that afternoon a lot in the past few weeks.

Where I work, there is no open concept anything.

I work in a basement. I scrounge for cast off bits of office furniture in unattended storage closets.

I used to sit in a Herman Miller Aeron - now I have a battered hand-me-down with gum stains.

Every time I grapple with its battered adjustment knobs, I think You chose Nonprofit, pal.

I miss my Aeron.

*     *     *

Which is not to say the new gig is bad. It is a welcome shift in culture. There is virtually no administrative crap. Schedules are amazingly flexible. The quality of life changes are seriously tangible. Before the kids started school, I was biking to work.

Biking to work!

And the vacation time is quite a thing.

In CorpWorld the PTO barely qualified as terrible. Even after five years, I was getting only 20 days - and one unplanned hospital stay put me in negative PTO for the better part of a year. Which meant no family vacations and E pulling all the kid events and sick days. Which is its own kind of drain on the family. Head down, grinding out time for that future month when you'd get to take a long weekend.

The new gig is flush with PTO.

Or... it would be. If they would actually hire me.

I'm on a contract to hire gig - and the initial hire timeline has more than slipped. What was to be two to three months has become seven. And while my boss was upfront that I would be doing some pretty dreary back end stuff starting out - eventually I was supposed to get back to UX.

Except, I haven't.

I spend most days wishing I knew more about Unix. I babysit a slew of scripts and do sysadmin stuff that - while fascinating in its own way - it is definitely not UX.

I like to think I am a patient person - so I've hung in there.

In my dark little office - on my gum-stained chair.

*     *     *

So, a few weeks ago - I get another one of those recruiter emails.

"Hi, I work for X and I wanted to reach out to you..."

'Reach out to.' This is the current buzz phrase for the cold call contact.  Prior to the reflex delete, I can see this one is from a local company that Sensei used to work for. A place I'd applied for during my freefall out of CorpWorld.

I remember I gave this place a resume - and never got so much as an email back.

Six months too late to save the desperate me, they contacted the Nonprofit version of me.

And I wasn't all that sure what the Nonprofit me was thinking about things.

This place was Corporate. Not Fortune 500, but it definitely had a capital C. And in the back of my mind there was this gnawing feeling that my hire at the Nonprofit might be less certain than I'd thought.

It wouldn't hurt to have a plan B.

Old anxieties die hard. I emailed the recruiter.

Step 1 was a phone interview with the UX director. They have a UX director.

I set it up over lunch and took the call on my earbuds while I walked around the lake near work. I felt like an IT commercial.

Um, yes. This is he. What's that sound? Oh, I just thought I'd, you know, walk and talk.

I'm one of those people who are loudly engaged in business discussions in public places. I'm annoying nearby fishermen. This makes me even happier.

The UX Director sounds like he's made his bones in software many times over. He asks me about my design philosophy.

Red Flag? Meet Bull.

Having a job that is not actively hurling me out the door takes a lot of the pressure off an interview. I was free to unload my frustrations and aspirations about the business of making user interface. It didn't hurt to have a blog full of war stories to draw on, either.

I was en feugo. Parables and anecdotes and years worth of pent up ideas on what should happen as opposed to what did happen.

What do I believe...? Hold onto your hat, bud.

I pontificated, I gesticulated, I conquered. Passersby were suitably irritated with me.

But, it felt so good to be asked. I was jubilant.

And then I went back to my office in the basement.

*     *     *

The following week, I pressed my boss on the status of my being brought on full time. They looked a bit chagrined and said they'd give the process another nudge. Soooo, we're not very far along at all, are we?

The following day, I filled out an online application for the Corporate gig. I figured I might as well see what they are like.

The online app was - I don't think I'm exaggerating here - one of the worst online forms I had seen in years. The gist of it was "Remember that resume you gave us last week? Well, type that same information into the world's crappiest form."

The form was hosted at a company that was different than the Corporate gig, so I felt this was a third party recruiting site. And it stunk on all levels. By the end of the form I wrote a mini screed about how terrible it was. This is what I wrote:

I believe that UX design requires user feedback. 

And I would offer some to you: 

I want you to  know that this application form is among the worst pieces of software I've interacted with in quite a long time. 

This web application is like something out of the 90s, and I suspect it is costing you applicants - as well as increasing the likelihood that applicants are submitting erroneous or incomplete information. 

It is poorly laid out, excessively long, and requires duplicate entry of required fields.  

There are no defaults. 

Several fields show a required indicator, when the form area they are contained in is marked optional. 

The button to progress through the form is not highlighted and begins its label with "Save." 

I could go on, but that is not the purpose of this application.

SoooOooo, not so much with the diplomacy. I was feeling a bit too free to express myself. But that's what I wrote. It was a truly crappy form. And it was just the recruiter's website, right?

Shortly after submitting the form - I noticed that the different name was in fact the parent company of the Corporate gig I'd just applied for.

Oh. Well, that was...rash.

But I got the impression that the form was pro forma. Data go in here. Box is checked, then. Proceed to interview.

And a few days later, I found myself following the Google Maps voice over to the west side of town for an in person interview. I had a list of instructions on how to enter the building as well as a detailed check in procedure.

Corporate with a capital C.

There were so many ambient things that screamed CorpWorld! on the way in I doubt I can accurately itemize them. But here's the short list:

The sterile parking garage.
The security cameras.
The neutral corporate art.
The immaculately clean lobby restrooms (Yes, you should always hit the restroom before an interview).
The badge-access security doors.
The "aren't we impressive?" lobby furniture.
And the dizzying array of expensive office gear.

Aeron? Please. We use the Steelcase Leap.

I'm to interview with the entire development team.
Later, we'll video conference with their office on the west coast. I note it's a city that Shadowrun introduced me to, back in the day.

And then they're throwing softballs at me. Four ironclad dev types and one UX guy. I like the developers immediately. They're clearly trying to suss out if I'm one of those design prima donnas. I demonstrate quite convincingly I'm not. I blow through a few war stories that illustrate my get-it-done pragmatism and I try to show a certain amount of humility in design. "We aren't the user - no matter how much we think we are." I share stories of failure, lessons learned and spell out aspirations for what a good design can do for a process.

I make light of my trashing their application form - just in case. They know it's terrible and agree it should be fixed. Score.

The west coast office asks a few questions that amount to "have you done battle with the business over a design."

Um. YES.

I crush that question. I see a lot of nodding heads and shared pain. These are veterans, too. These are good people.

The only low point of the interview is - sadly - the UX guy. He is a design prima donna. One given to using big words to sound special when clear words are all that is needed.

He actually used the phrase "Cognitive Bandages," which - if UX was the VMAs - would be the equivalent of sticking your tongue out and twerking.

You are trying WAY too hard, dude. Seriously.

I believe I struck a good balance between appearing respectful and punking this guy. I felt a few cringes from the dev guys as the UX dude was talking so I suspect this netted me some checks in the plus column.

Veni, vidi, vici, baby.

And then it was handshakes and 'Thank Yous' and I was back outside.

Just sitting in my car - in a Corporate parking garage-

...wondering what the hell I'm doing.

*     *     *

I remember good things about CorpWorld, I do. Good people. Lots of them. Some skunks, too. But mostly good, smart people doing their best in trying circumstances.

Mostly, though - I remember the fear.

Coming to work on Monday with an all-encompassing dread that this would be the week you got bounced out. Or hearing your home phone ring at night on a Friday and thinking your staffing company was calling to let you go.

I used to tell the FTE's who would get on me about being a consultant: "Y'know when you scan your badge at the door and the door doesn't open? You think the sensor is messed up. I think I've been fired."

Not that CorpWorld canned folks like that, you'd get a call first - but that story says a lot about my state of mind.

You felt privileged, but you were constantly aware it could go away at any time.

*     *     *

So, I got out. Went Nonprofit. And yet I'm zipping off to the edge of town for another shot to get on the corporate freight train.

Driving back to work after the interview, I was energized. I kept reciting my answers and offering up new ones to imaginary questions all the way back to my current gig.

I slunk back into work like a thief. "An appointment" was what I'd called it. My co-workers asked about the Boy, assuming it was some doctor thing. They're good folks, which makes you feel worse.

About the time the Recruiter sets me up with a phone interview with one of the VPs of the Company, my current Boss starts the machinery rolling to bring me on full time.

I get scheduled for a meeting to go over process and task analysis.

Right on cue.

I nail the phone interview with the VP - they're mostly asking about corporate culture and if I had additional questions. Again, I'm outside walking around when they call. It just seems to work better when I can move around.

Over the next few days, the gears start to grind - slowly - towards what I was promised at the Nonprofit. At a smaller shop, I'll supposedly have more influence on the process. There's less bureaucracy to wade through. But it will never make the papers.

It's a silly thing to be proud of, but every now and then I'll go to the web app I spent so much time on, view the source and call up the CSS file. My name is in the comments. That always makes me smile. My name's not first - nor does it deserve to be - but it's there.

I helped make something. And it works.

At a Nonprofit - that will not happen. The work will be internally focused and there will be no travel, no conferences and no tuition reimbursement. It will be comfortable, flexible, casual even - but it may very well be professional obscurity. Is that a good bargain in the long run? Yeah, kinda.

Corporate gig will be the polar opposite. I won't be a jet setter, but it could very well make a national product and some very real bona fides in UX. Do I want that? Kinda, yeah.

And life is just settling down. E and I are in a good place. The Long Lean Season is over. I'm not sweating getting our taxes paid anymore. I'd looked into the Corporate gig as a backup plan. It was never really supposed to amount to anything.

And on the way home - tonight - the Recruiter calls me. The Corporate gig wants to make me an offer. Tomorrow.

And I am literally lost for an answer.

After Action Report

Sensei just pinged me.

Sounds like Smiler was nudged out of CorpWorld.

In an ideal world, I would be indifferent. I'm in a new gig. Looking forward, that kind of thing.

But I remember Ruby, Din & Sensei - people who did the job and deserved a manager who had their back. Instead, they had Smiler. And while Smiler wasn't the author of everything that played out, their blithe "Stay Home" indifference while it happened left a lasting impression.

We're all gone now - and now Smiler as well.

Not an ideal world at all.

And I am not indifferent.

AT&T: Pay Us the Money We Owe You

I got a paper bill from AT&T on Friday.

I don't get paper bills from AT&T. It's part of my account preferences.

The paper bill tells me that AT&T owes me $35.12. I'm happy to take their money, but my understanding of things was that I paid my wireless bill and my Uverse bill - and that a small percentage of my landline and old DSL bill would be prorated for Aug 29 - Sept 4. They were going to contact me with the amount that I owed for this small bit of service time.

Instead, I get a paper bill telling me they owe me money.

This makes me think they've misapplied some funds again. Previously, their math said that I was past due and was owed a credit at the same time.

According to AT&T math, this meant I supposedly owed them $183.09.

Let's see what my online account shows now, shall we?

Yes, I still owe $183.09 - but now it's in ORANGE! Progress!

Now, where the heck is my credit that I'm owed...? It should be under the last service in that list - the old landline / DSL account.

Annnnnnd....?

Yes, this account has been cancelled (although I would call it "replaced" or "upgraded").

And somehow we have arrived at a place where: 

AT&T owing me $35.12 = I owe AT&T $183.09 

I'm just hoping they make this make sense before my next bill is due.

Pathetic.

A Long Lean Season

I was in the mall the other day and felt oddly liberated.

I was walking into a clothing store and was genuinely interested in buying a shirt. And I was free to buy one. The Boy needed a pair of shorts and if I'd been willing to put up with his militant refusal to try on clothes - I could have picked up a few pairs for him as well.

This was odd. Partly because I hate malls in general - but mostly because I'd tried to think back to the last time I'd shopped for clothes. It had been a very long time. Like - since winter.

In my family, I'm the spender. E will part with money when you hold her head to the fire - but I genuinely enjoy the experience of seeking out and purchasing stuff. And I hadn't bought so much as a shirt over six months.

But this wasn't really about shirts or clothes, even. This was about feeling like if you bought something you wouldn't feel like you were stealing from the family till.

I can do this - on impulse, even.

And while I didn't buy anything - it sure felt good to unclench that part of my mind that always told me I couldn't.

Because this past summer was not a fun time in the family finances. We've always had high property taxes and so a good part of our budget is shoving money aside to make sure we've got enough to pay the tax man twice a year.  We save our shekels until January or July, then watch them fly out the door and start over.

In the normal run of things - this is not a big deal, but with the fear of getting canned and then changing jobs there have been more than a few holes in our financial plan. We're all right, but you're more aware of the height you're at when somebody starts removing the safety net.

With changes to our insurance plan, a larger share of our medical bills became our responsibility this past year. Coincidentally, this was the year we discovered that my son would need a second round of treatments for something we'd thought had been cleared up last year.

You hear an awful lot about medical bills driving people into bankruptcy these days - and it's easy to see why.

My son had a series of appointments - evaluation, preparation, the actual procedure, and follow up. These are all classified differently and there is no way for me as a consumer to get a sense for what they will cost.

Nor will I have any idea when these bills will show arrive or when they will be due.

So you sock money away for that uncertain future.

Part of that uncertain future is paying for summer childcare. We pay for a patchwork of camps and daycare for two small children. All enrollments require prepayment, so this suddenly turns our normal childcare bill of $500 a month into $1,000 a month and $1,300 a month.

Again, I'm sure there are people who pay more - I'm merely talking about the variance.

A fixed cost suddenly doubles or nearly triples - and you're hauling money out of savings to patch the hole. Right around the time you're about to get that prepaid childcare - and enjoy not paying a bill that month - that's when the hospital bills start rolling in.

The first hit was dental. The Boy needed a bite plate - a $600 piece of plastic that we were assured will cost us a mere $300 - but triggers bills demanding the full $600 since insurance won't pay.

Next up was me. This was a surprise one - but I'd gotten a replacement CPAP machine last year and my monthly bill suddenly doubled as (unbeknownst to me) my insurance had stopped paying for leasing my machine and I was now buying it on my own. $108 please, you're welcome.

Uh, okay.

Then E got some tests done. $130 for the test - and... $180 for the room the test was performed in.

We haven't even gotten to my son's stuff yet. His is split up into many parts but adds up to about $500.

The point of all this wasn't "gosh I'm so poor" - but rather "How the hell does anyone budget for this?"

Literally the day after I'd gotten the $180 bill for my wife (which had a due date that was a week away) I got a call from the hospital's billing department - they wanted to know if I needed to set up a payment plan. I reflexively said no, but I probably should have said yes - since my son's bills hadn't landed yet.

I was seriously ticked off at the ortho folks and my dentist - telling me a bill would be $300 and then billing me $600. About the time we find this out - the Boy loses his bite plate and we have to buy another one. This time for $300.

I spent a not insignificant amount of time trying to find out if we truly owed the full amount for the first one or just the half like we were promised. Six months after the procedure, we found out the answer - we needed to pay a total of around $400.

All of this lands in a month where we have a $700 landscaping bill and are paying $1,600 for a month of childcare.

And I want to make something clear here - lest the sound of a violin drown out my main point:

I am a very fortunate man. I have good health insurance - very good health insurance. I am very well compensated for the job I do. The summer of 2013 was a very painful time financially - but I know there are literally millions of people in this country who would trade places with me in a second.

I know this.

My point isn't to cry poverty - my point is to illustrate that a family as fortunate as mine can go way off the rails because of medical bills. Mind you, these were not major procedures and our copay is pretty reasonable. Picture the person with truly bad health insurance - that $500 bill for my son was for something that cost thousands of dollars.

Were we uninsured - the total bill would be higher, and we'd owe all of it. I can't even begin to imagine how a household budgets for that. Or copes with that.

And I can easily imagine a scenario where I stayed at my old job and got laid off mid-year. That would turn our life's trajectory towards those scenarios you keep reading about in the paper. Hollow out your 401K, sell your house, the kinds of things that do keep middle America up at night.

But I got the new job. And we weathered the storm. Outside of a few Kickstarters I got into back in March - the discretionary stuff has been kept to a minimum.

When the car needs gas, I get gas - instead of putting it off until it's closer to payday. I'm starting to repair the damage to our savings.

I just got a year older - and Jen's family are coming over on Saturday. We're going to go all out. It's gonna be a thing.

And the day before?

Goddammit, E and I are going to go out.

Aside from daycare - I can count on one hand the number of times we've hired a babysitter for the night. Since my son was born.

So we're doing this.

The new job threw some extra money my way and we are going to celebrate.  I've got lunch reservations at a trendy new spot (easier to do lunch) and E's booked her co-worker's daughter to watch the kids at night.

We're going to see Gravity.

 

Last time E and I went out to see a first run movie? I don't even know. I think we had an evening free sprung on us last minute and we went to see Despicable Me, because it was the only thing in theaters we could stand. Neither of us was excited to see that movie - but we weren't missing a chance to get out.

This time around, this is a movie we both want to see. A lot. I do something I haven't done it ages: I pre-buy the tickets and reserve specific seats. Middle of the row with nobody in front of us.

Lunch reservations online? Check.
Babysitter? Check.
Movie tickets to awesomeness? Check.
Weekend with family? Check.

This is going to totally rock.

The Long Lean Season will finally be put down. Double tap to the head.

*     *     *

That was Monday.

Two days ago, little e comes home with news from school: somebody in her class has head lice.

Deep breath.

We've done the drill before - E transforms into Patton pretty much anytime there's been a whiff of this around the house - so we sit the kids down and sort them out.

Yes, little e has head lice. The boy has nits.

E mobilizes for Iwo Jima and we're purging the house of stuffed animals and pillows. Everything will get laundered. Every head will get picked over.

The kids will stay home from school.

That was yesterday.

The boy was cleared for school for today. Little e was not, so E's staying home with her all day.

Lunch is out. I click the "Cancel reservations" link in my confirmation email.

Lunch reservations online? Un-Check.

Babysitter?

We call to let our sitter make an informed choice about coming over. I entertain all kinds of hope that they'll say the odds are low and E and I will still get our movie.

But they call to cancel. The sitter's family has done forty rounds with head lice before and they are never going to do that again.

Un-Check the Babysitter.

Movie tickets to awesomeness?

Pre-paid - I'm still thinking there's some way one of us could go, grab a friend. Or give the tickets to someone. E calls and finds they'll do an exchange or refund. So we'll just bail.

Goodbye, opening weekend movie. Un-check.

And I emailed Jen to give her the full wave off for the weekend. They're family and they could probably deal, but I don't want to inform them and leave it in their hands to decide. They're nice enough to come despite the situation - but I don't want to risk them.

Weekend with family? Un-Check.

Oh, and the $300 water bill just arrived. And your car registration is due.

*     *     *

The good news? The hospital bills are paid. The sheets are clean. And it's payday.

Little e is crying because her cousins can't visit and all her fuzzy friends have to be bagged up and taken away.

The Boy is mad because he had to go to school and his sister didn't.

E's been at DEFCON-1 for so long I'm not sure where her mood is.

And tonight, I'll go home and help E do battle with the lice.

Then we'll watch some TV, read a little twitter and turn in.

The pillows will be gone - we've got pillowcases stuffed with towels. Our pillows are isolated in the plastic bags filling the upstairs hallway. We won't be using them again for weeks.

We'll fill the next two days with cleaning and picking nits, and then the work week will reset and we'll try this whole mess again.

Looooooooong exhale

I just wanted a weekend.  Just one, huh?