Yes, I'll admit it. I'm a little bit of a workaholic.
Most days, I just get carried away with what I'm doing that I lose track of time and don't end up going home until way everyone else in the office has gone home. Lately, because of the multitude of things that I've been working on surrounding the launch of our new catalogue, getting ready to leave on a month-long project off-site, plus training someone to take on the reins while I'm gone, I've been putting in noticably more hours of overtime.
My manager spoke with me briefly this afternoon about it. Apparently the capital M capital G Management Group has gotten wind of it and is concerned about "this issue"...about my whole work-life balance thing a little, but mostly about the amount of money it's costing the company to pay me time-and-a-half when I go beyond my required forty hours a week. Everytime this comes up, they try to make it seem like they're genuinely looking out for my well-being ("We care about you and want you to have a healthy balance between your work life and your personal life"), which, I guess they do, to a certain extent. However, I can't help but feel that it's really all about the latter ("This is costing us way too much money! Money that we don't have to spend!")
Each time, my response is the same: I'm expected to perform at a certain level and carry out certain responsibilities. If they want me to scale back, that just means they won't be getting as much out of me as they expect. As it is, I don't even declare all the hours that I work. In fact, if they were to do an actual analysis, they'd find that I'm pretty much cheap labour.
These days, my job description has been extended to a point where I'm responsible for regional advertising and a small handful of national projects on top of my daily responsibilities (largely my own doing - or undoing, as the case may be). I'm not complaining though. These are the parts of my job that I actually enjoy. But now that I've taken these things on, it's become expected that I'm to carry out the job of two (or more) people at any given time without any discussion of additional compensation. There simply isn't room for it, apparently. Well, in that case, don't rag on me for having to pay me overtime! Would they rather pay an external ad agency heaps and heaps of cash to do the creative for the ads and media kits that we churn out (like they do out east), or can they just shut up and pay me my comparitively measly little salary without any griping or nagging?
Days like this, I want to slash my wrists and pour toxic substances into the gaping wounds. But then I remember how much of a wuss I am and decide that I probably wouldn't be able to go through with it anyway, so just shrug my shoulders and say, "to hell with it."
A potential employer is calling me from Sweden tomorrow. Maybe she'll take pity on me and offer me a job. Or at least send me a nice bottle of Vodka to ease my pain? Toes and fingers crossed.
Thursday, July 08, 2004
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
to hug or not to hug
I'd never really given much thought to whether or not I'm a "hugger" or not. You know, those people that hug at every concievable opportunity. My sister is a hugger. She hugs to say hello, hugs to say goodbye, hugs to comfort and to be comforted, hugs because she's happy, or hugs just because. I, on the other hand, am more of what you would call a sporadic hugger. I hug when I feel like it, which can be often or rarely, depending on what kind of mood I'm in that particular day.
Today, my friend Joanne, along with her freinds Micah and Michelle, came to visit me at work and joined me for lunch. As they were leaving, I gave Joanne a big old "thanks for visiting - see you again soon" hug, gave Michelle an "it was nice meeting you - have a safe trip home" hug, and then extended my hand out to Micah to give him an "it was good seeing you again - take care" handshake. I didn't think much of it while it was happening; it was a pretty automatic switch from hugging to handshaking. But after a nervous giggle, we laughed at the elementary logic behind girls getting hugs and boys getting handshakes.
I guess I've just been conditioned to think of hugs as gestures reserved to give to women and young children, and handshakes as the gender appropriate gesture between two men. But today's encounter got me thinking, why shouldn't men hug? We're all big softies that need love, right? I know, I know, there are certain instances where handshakes would be the more appropriate gesture, but I guess what I'm just questioning the existence of 'gender-appropriate" greetings. A salutation is a salutaion.
Terry and I get bugged at work all the time for speaking in our "deep, manly voices" when we're speaking with each other or with other guys, and then speaking in our regular tone of voice with women. I guess its an ingrained need to assert our masculinity or something - kinda like the handshake vs. hugging thing. Perhaps it is partly due to how the male brain is wired and partly to how we're conditioned as children. I have to admit, I wasn't consciously aware of it until it was pointed out to us. Now we just joke about it and then resort to grunting everytime it happens.
So, get out there and hug someone! In fact, hug the next person you come across - man or woman. Unless, of course, they look threatening and give the impression that they would cause you physical harm should you surprise them and invade their personal space with an unexpected show of affection. In that scenario, the appropriate response is giving a polite nod, followed quickly by averting your eyes to your shoes. Then as soon, as you are out of sight range, run for dear life!
Today, my friend Joanne, along with her freinds Micah and Michelle, came to visit me at work and joined me for lunch. As they were leaving, I gave Joanne a big old "thanks for visiting - see you again soon" hug, gave Michelle an "it was nice meeting you - have a safe trip home" hug, and then extended my hand out to Micah to give him an "it was good seeing you again - take care" handshake. I didn't think much of it while it was happening; it was a pretty automatic switch from hugging to handshaking. But after a nervous giggle, we laughed at the elementary logic behind girls getting hugs and boys getting handshakes.
I guess I've just been conditioned to think of hugs as gestures reserved to give to women and young children, and handshakes as the gender appropriate gesture between two men. But today's encounter got me thinking, why shouldn't men hug? We're all big softies that need love, right? I know, I know, there are certain instances where handshakes would be the more appropriate gesture, but I guess what I'm just questioning the existence of 'gender-appropriate" greetings. A salutation is a salutaion.
Terry and I get bugged at work all the time for speaking in our "deep, manly voices" when we're speaking with each other or with other guys, and then speaking in our regular tone of voice with women. I guess its an ingrained need to assert our masculinity or something - kinda like the handshake vs. hugging thing. Perhaps it is partly due to how the male brain is wired and partly to how we're conditioned as children. I have to admit, I wasn't consciously aware of it until it was pointed out to us. Now we just joke about it and then resort to grunting everytime it happens.
So, get out there and hug someone! In fact, hug the next person you come across - man or woman. Unless, of course, they look threatening and give the impression that they would cause you physical harm should you surprise them and invade their personal space with an unexpected show of affection. In that scenario, the appropriate response is giving a polite nod, followed quickly by averting your eyes to your shoes. Then as soon, as you are out of sight range, run for dear life!
Sunday, July 04, 2004
the great domestic showdown
Went on a berry-picking outing today as part of a family-togetherness thing. Armed with ice cream pails and flat boxes, mom, dad, Grace & boyfriend, and I hopped into the van and headed further into rural suburbia for our little expedition. One the way, we spotted the main street where they film Smallville, which elicited squeals of excitement from both my sister and myself even though neither of us has watched the show since last season's finale.
The day was sunny and warm, but the heat was offset with the occasional cool breeze. The sun ripened berries were deliciuosly sweet, and savouring the juiciness of the fruit while we picked was the perfect way to spend the morning and a bit of the afternoon. After filling two bucketfulls of raspberries, I decided to move to the strawberry patch and see what I could harvest.
Because strawberries grow low to the ground, it proved to be much more back-breaking than picking in the raspberry fields. Discovering the plump crimson berries hiding under the broad leaves while kneeling on the soft earth was much more satisfying though because it made me feel somewhat closer to nature. It reminded me of the scenes from David Guterson's Snow Falling on Cedars where Katsue spends her summers picking berries while Ishmael looks on, infatuated by her beauty. It also brought back memories of a day trip I took with Lydia last summer to a winery/vineyard/orchard/berry farm in the St. Catherine's/Niagara Wine Region.
Anyway, we got a little carried away and picked probably more than we needed: 27 lbs of raspberries and 29 lbs of strawberries! Sixty-seven dollars and plenty of berry-stained fingers later, we wheeled our pickings back to the van, exhausted but satisfied.
The rest of the afternoon was spent washing the raspberries and blueberries for freezing, hulling the strawberries, and making jam. After everything was sealed in mason jars, I set out to make dinner for the jam-making crew. Turned out to be a more elaborate meal than I had planned, but scrumptious nonetheless. This was the menu:
Breadsticks served with slow roasted garlic cloves
Tossed romaine & jicama salad sprinkled with blueberries, raspberries, pinenuts, and crunchy roasted onion flakes. Sesame vinaigrette
Miso marinated barbecue porkchops with a raspberry & red wine reduction
Garlic & parmesan mashed potatoes
Mission Hill Riesling
Vanilla ice cream with fresh strawberries
Go ahead, send Martha to jail. I'll take over while she's busy.
make fire. cook meat.
I had a little bit of difficulty igniting the barbecue because it had been sitting in the shed since we put it away last summer. Being the impatient little bugger that I am, I decided to toss a lit match into the coals to see if I could speed the proccess along. I wasn't prepared for the resulting burst of flame.
Lesson #1: matches + propane = big whoosh of flames.
Lesson #2: Hair is easily singed if placed in close proximity to open flame.
After recovering from the initial shock and picking myself up from falling backwards, i quickly put out the little fire happening on my head, checked to see if my eyebrows were still somewhat in tact, and then went up to take a shower to get rid of the nasty smell of incinerated hair which was still lingering. I later discovered that this was attributed to the burnt hair in my nostrils.
*sigh*
Lessons learned.
The day was sunny and warm, but the heat was offset with the occasional cool breeze. The sun ripened berries were deliciuosly sweet, and savouring the juiciness of the fruit while we picked was the perfect way to spend the morning and a bit of the afternoon. After filling two bucketfulls of raspberries, I decided to move to the strawberry patch and see what I could harvest.
Because strawberries grow low to the ground, it proved to be much more back-breaking than picking in the raspberry fields. Discovering the plump crimson berries hiding under the broad leaves while kneeling on the soft earth was much more satisfying though because it made me feel somewhat closer to nature. It reminded me of the scenes from David Guterson's Snow Falling on Cedars where Katsue spends her summers picking berries while Ishmael looks on, infatuated by her beauty. It also brought back memories of a day trip I took with Lydia last summer to a winery/vineyard/orchard/berry farm in the St. Catherine's/Niagara Wine Region.
Anyway, we got a little carried away and picked probably more than we needed: 27 lbs of raspberries and 29 lbs of strawberries! Sixty-seven dollars and plenty of berry-stained fingers later, we wheeled our pickings back to the van, exhausted but satisfied.
The rest of the afternoon was spent washing the raspberries and blueberries for freezing, hulling the strawberries, and making jam. After everything was sealed in mason jars, I set out to make dinner for the jam-making crew. Turned out to be a more elaborate meal than I had planned, but scrumptious nonetheless. This was the menu:
Breadsticks served with slow roasted garlic cloves
Tossed romaine & jicama salad sprinkled with blueberries, raspberries, pinenuts, and crunchy roasted onion flakes. Sesame vinaigrette
Miso marinated barbecue porkchops with a raspberry & red wine reduction
Garlic & parmesan mashed potatoes
Mission Hill Riesling
Vanilla ice cream with fresh strawberries
Go ahead, send Martha to jail. I'll take over while she's busy.
make fire. cook meat.
I had a little bit of difficulty igniting the barbecue because it had been sitting in the shed since we put it away last summer. Being the impatient little bugger that I am, I decided to toss a lit match into the coals to see if I could speed the proccess along. I wasn't prepared for the resulting burst of flame.
Lesson #1: matches + propane = big whoosh of flames.
Lesson #2: Hair is easily singed if placed in close proximity to open flame.
After recovering from the initial shock and picking myself up from falling backwards, i quickly put out the little fire happening on my head, checked to see if my eyebrows were still somewhat in tact, and then went up to take a shower to get rid of the nasty smell of incinerated hair which was still lingering. I later discovered that this was attributed to the burnt hair in my nostrils.
*sigh*
Lessons learned.
Saturday, July 03, 2004
the sound of music
I went on a little CD shopping spree today. Whee! Picked up an exciting mix of new releases and am still making my way through them, but enjoying the auditory joyride thus far.
Katie Melua - Call Off The Search
Yum! Reminds me of a much more playful Norah Jones on guitar. Not bubble-gum playful, mind you, but tasty nonetheless. Mockingbird Song brings me back to my childhood - a little gift of nostalgia wrapped in a pretty package from Katie.
I first heard of her when Terry told me about the last-minute duet that she sang with Jamie Cullum on the Brit Awards. Now I'm kicking myself for not catching it!
De-Lovely - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack
Essentially a Cole Porter songbook, performed by a handful of contemporary artists, Robbie Williams, King of British Pop, sings the title track with ease and style. (He really needs to do a follow-up album to Swing While You're Winning) Followed by Alanis Morissette, Sheryl Crowe, Elvis Costello, Diana Krall, Natalie Cole, to name a few, this is a swingin'-good-times collection of some of Porter's best. I'm looking forward to the movie's release!
Matt Dusk - Two Shots
This guy is a local boy, who apparently attended St. Mikes, so I had to support him and pick up a copy of his CD. As the story goes, the title track was originally written by Bono for Old Blue Eyes, but hasn't been recorded until now. It's the highlight of the album, and as such, the Hot Nugget Remix is included as the bonus track.
This collection of songs is much more mellow than that of the other local boy, but it's good for nights when you need to unwind on the sofa in the dark, with a glass of red wine in hand.
I briefly entertained thoughts of seeing him in concert tonight at the Jazz Festival, but I'm simply too lazy to drag my butt off this chair and drive anywhere for an hour.
Bebel Gilberto - Bebel Gilberto
When I close my eyes, I find myself transported to the beaches of Brazil with the sound of the surf and bossa nova rhythms. Makes me want to dive into the pool and enjoy the sound of Bebel singing to me from the deck. Tanto Tempo was a tough act to follow, but I think she may have done it.
Thievery Corporation - The Outernational Sound
Haven't made my way to this CD yet, but if this album is anything like their last effort, The Richest Man in Babylon, Eric Hilton and Rob Garza are sure to please with this latest feast for the ears that promises to combine bossa nova, rock, afro-beat, latin, easy listening, Indian, soul and reggae in an all new DJ session.
Katie Melua - Call Off The Search
Yum! Reminds me of a much more playful Norah Jones on guitar. Not bubble-gum playful, mind you, but tasty nonetheless. Mockingbird Song brings me back to my childhood - a little gift of nostalgia wrapped in a pretty package from Katie.
I first heard of her when Terry told me about the last-minute duet that she sang with Jamie Cullum on the Brit Awards. Now I'm kicking myself for not catching it!
De-Lovely - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack
Essentially a Cole Porter songbook, performed by a handful of contemporary artists, Robbie Williams, King of British Pop, sings the title track with ease and style. (He really needs to do a follow-up album to Swing While You're Winning) Followed by Alanis Morissette, Sheryl Crowe, Elvis Costello, Diana Krall, Natalie Cole, to name a few, this is a swingin'-good-times collection of some of Porter's best. I'm looking forward to the movie's release!
Matt Dusk - Two Shots
This guy is a local boy, who apparently attended St. Mikes, so I had to support him and pick up a copy of his CD. As the story goes, the title track was originally written by Bono for Old Blue Eyes, but hasn't been recorded until now. It's the highlight of the album, and as such, the Hot Nugget Remix is included as the bonus track.
This collection of songs is much more mellow than that of the other local boy, but it's good for nights when you need to unwind on the sofa in the dark, with a glass of red wine in hand.
I briefly entertained thoughts of seeing him in concert tonight at the Jazz Festival, but I'm simply too lazy to drag my butt off this chair and drive anywhere for an hour.
Bebel Gilberto - Bebel Gilberto
When I close my eyes, I find myself transported to the beaches of Brazil with the sound of the surf and bossa nova rhythms. Makes me want to dive into the pool and enjoy the sound of Bebel singing to me from the deck. Tanto Tempo was a tough act to follow, but I think she may have done it.
Thievery Corporation - The Outernational Sound
Haven't made my way to this CD yet, but if this album is anything like their last effort, The Richest Man in Babylon, Eric Hilton and Rob Garza are sure to please with this latest feast for the ears that promises to combine bossa nova, rock, afro-beat, latin, easy listening, Indian, soul and reggae in an all new DJ session.
Friday, July 02, 2004
jazz-ma-taz
An evening of live jazz at a New Orleans-style Creole eatery with friends. Savouring a deliciously flavoured bowl of seafood jambalaya, served with green rice. Conversation over the flicker of candlelight and sipping a cold drink with the cool evening air breezing past... What could be more perfect?
How about a light lunch by the water, munching on a smoked salmon sandwich? An afternoon stroll around the island, browsing the market shops, admiring the beautiful towers of berries, and running my fingers across delightful paper treasures from around the world, while enjoying some toe-tapping open-air music.
Yup, I did both today. I love this city!
Happy Birthday, Canada! Have some cake. Blow out your candles. Do something adventurous that scares you a little. Enjoy!
How about a light lunch by the water, munching on a smoked salmon sandwich? An afternoon stroll around the island, browsing the market shops, admiring the beautiful towers of berries, and running my fingers across delightful paper treasures from around the world, while enjoying some toe-tapping open-air music.
Yup, I did both today. I love this city!
Happy Birthday, Canada! Have some cake. Blow out your candles. Do something adventurous that scares you a little. Enjoy!
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