Volpone
Zombie Hunter
I have a diary/blog thing over at WF, but I just don't feel like posting there tonight. Which is hard because some of this stuff will take more setting up. Moved from Portland Oregon to Louisville Kentucky over a year and a half ago. Once I got settled in and got my house renovated enough I decided to get a part time seasonal job with the city's largest employer, helping them out with their Christmas rush. I was way overqualified for it, but it was a way to get out of the house, get my doggo (who has had bouts of separation anxiety) used to me getting out of the house again, pick up some walkin' around money, and get my foot in the door with the city's largest employer, for when I found something with them that I was a better fit for.
As it happened, it *wasn't* seasonal work. And as it happened, when my boss' boss made his required contact with me he asked me if I really had a college degree. I told him I had an MBA and was a Major in the Marine Corps Reserve. He asked if I wanted to become a supervisor and I said "yes." We moved into a new building a little over a half a year ago and I somehow fell through the cracks and didn't get assigned a boss. For awhile I just did whatever I felt like needed doing and helped out wherever I was needed. It was kind of neat for a bit, but eventually I started to feel like I needed *some* direction. Otherwise there was the temptation to do things that didn't necessarily require a supervisor--like rounding up unused items and putting them back where they belonged. Happily, around that point the guy who ran the entire building was regularly getting beat up about an aspect of our job, so my old boss brought me to his boss, who brought me to HIS boss and I was assigned with fixing the thing he was getting beat up over. I got paired up with a guy who had the data I needed and given some basic guidelines and essentially turned loose. I got the job done and we became regularly in the top 10 buildings in the nation.
It wasn't all sunshine and happiness. I didn't exactly know what I was doing that was making us excel. And sometimes we'd have rough spots where we'd stumble and I wouldn't know what to do to fix it, but eventually we'd come around. I also got to go around and hand out company scrip and Gatorades to people who'd helped us meet our goals.
Then things changed. For whatever reason, they beefed up the training department. And they decided to move me from operations to training, where a former peer had newly been promoted and put in charge of a whole cadre--although she really just did whatever the head of training (who was a level higher than my old boss) wanted her to do. Which meant second-guessing and micromanagement. Oh, and while we're at it, one of new boss' boss' responsibilities was to run the company store, where the scrip I hand out can be used to buy swag. It's been over half a year and the store hasn't reopened since moving to the new building. But we've gotten lots of new paperwork. Lots of certifications and rostering.
A word on that: I have my "methods." These are something like 88 things I'm supposed to know from memory about how to do my job. Like, twice a year I have to come to an office and recite them. But nuboss' boss decided if twice a year was good, every 3 months would be even better. And she came up with something called "Methods Master" as an incentive to excel. If you could get your methods 100%--and word for word--you were a Methods Master. Now wrote memorization is actually counterproductive to the purpose. The methods are generalized across the company. So some of the items don't make sense in the context of our building. And parrots can mimic things without understanding them. It's better to be able to explain the concepts than to be able to recite them word-for-word. But that's above my pay grade. I can pass my methods any time with no advance notice. But I will never, EVER be a "methods master" because I think it is a waste of time and effort to memorize them verbatim. We'll come back to this in a bit.
Another reason I wanted a part time job was to force me to start my own business. The plan was to buy a rental property. And then another. And another. Possibly do some AirBnB, Uber, Rover, TaskRabbit, etc too. Eventually I'd be self employed. And eventually my money would be doing all the work for me. But to buy real estate--at least by my plan, one must be able to fix up real estate. And to fix up real estate, you need a vehicle larger than a Ford Mustang. Because it doesn't matter how clever you are, you can't fit a sheet of plywood in the trunk of a Ford Mustang. Rather than a junker pickup, I decided I wanted a van. With a van I could also haul my motorcycle, do in-city moves, go camping, or prepare for the zombie apocalypse. You can also do up a van like the A-Team van.
Now I didn't expect to do the actual A-Team van. You just don't find 1983 GMC G1500 Vanduras laying around these days. Not even a 1995 Chevy G30 or any other variant that has the right body style. But it turned out to be damnably hard to even find a cargo van that wasn't an extended version, had a sliding door, and no window on the sides with a suitably imposing grille at a price I was willing to pay for an "inspired by the A-Team"/alternate A-Team van. I was hoping for a 2008 Ford Econoline and actually started out on my motorcycle for the neighboring town to make an offer on one before I got cold feet and turned back. Bottom line, I'd been looking for the right van for close to 2 years. Then one day, while walking The Dog, I found a promising one literally 3 blocks from my house. A Ford Econoline. Actually a lot older than I wanted. Circa 1991. And it had a window in the sliding door. But it was enticing. I resolved to inquire on it. But the night before I did, I took one last turn on CraigsList. And there. In the neighboring town. Was an honest to God GMC G1500 Vandura with no windows and a sliding door. True it was a 1988, but the body is the same. Minimal rust. Allegedly well cared for. Not insane price.
I hit the bank and spent an August Sunday afternoon, screwing it down on my motorcycle with an envelope full of cash in one pocket and a loaded Walther PPK/S in the other (in case anything went sideways). I probably shouldn't have bought the thing. There were danger signs and roadblocks. But you really don't find this car in any shape any more. And I also didn't want to waste an entire day--and ride home on the cafe racer so I bought the bugger, rolled the bike up in the cargo bay and drove home with the "SERVICE ENGINE SOON' light on the entire way.
Now, when I was looking at doing an "inspired by the A-Team" van, things were simpler. you just need a spoiler, a red stripe, and a few other things. But when God drops the right van in your lap, then the pressure is on to get things right. I've actually done OK thus far, although it has definitely been an Odyssey--that isn't nearly over yet. But that's another story and I'm sidetracked enough at this point. Suffice it to say that I'm close enough to being done now that it pains me that I don't have more time to work on The Van. For reference, here's where we're at as of yesterday:
So, while I increasingly hate my job--even though ostensibly I'm doing something I love--helping people and solving problems--I don't want to have to hunt for a different job because that takes away time from working on The Van. But I also can't just quit my job because when it comes time to buy a rental property lenders kind of want you to be employed.
There's more, but I've rambled on long enough just getting you up to speed. I still need to talk about Hub School, spending freezes, and bringing me in to fix something after it's too late to fix anything--which is what sparked making this rambling screed in the first place.
As it happened, it *wasn't* seasonal work. And as it happened, when my boss' boss made his required contact with me he asked me if I really had a college degree. I told him I had an MBA and was a Major in the Marine Corps Reserve. He asked if I wanted to become a supervisor and I said "yes." We moved into a new building a little over a half a year ago and I somehow fell through the cracks and didn't get assigned a boss. For awhile I just did whatever I felt like needed doing and helped out wherever I was needed. It was kind of neat for a bit, but eventually I started to feel like I needed *some* direction. Otherwise there was the temptation to do things that didn't necessarily require a supervisor--like rounding up unused items and putting them back where they belonged. Happily, around that point the guy who ran the entire building was regularly getting beat up about an aspect of our job, so my old boss brought me to his boss, who brought me to HIS boss and I was assigned with fixing the thing he was getting beat up over. I got paired up with a guy who had the data I needed and given some basic guidelines and essentially turned loose. I got the job done and we became regularly in the top 10 buildings in the nation.
It wasn't all sunshine and happiness. I didn't exactly know what I was doing that was making us excel. And sometimes we'd have rough spots where we'd stumble and I wouldn't know what to do to fix it, but eventually we'd come around. I also got to go around and hand out company scrip and Gatorades to people who'd helped us meet our goals.
Then things changed. For whatever reason, they beefed up the training department. And they decided to move me from operations to training, where a former peer had newly been promoted and put in charge of a whole cadre--although she really just did whatever the head of training (who was a level higher than my old boss) wanted her to do. Which meant second-guessing and micromanagement. Oh, and while we're at it, one of new boss' boss' responsibilities was to run the company store, where the scrip I hand out can be used to buy swag. It's been over half a year and the store hasn't reopened since moving to the new building. But we've gotten lots of new paperwork. Lots of certifications and rostering.
A word on that: I have my "methods." These are something like 88 things I'm supposed to know from memory about how to do my job. Like, twice a year I have to come to an office and recite them. But nuboss' boss decided if twice a year was good, every 3 months would be even better. And she came up with something called "Methods Master" as an incentive to excel. If you could get your methods 100%--and word for word--you were a Methods Master. Now wrote memorization is actually counterproductive to the purpose. The methods are generalized across the company. So some of the items don't make sense in the context of our building. And parrots can mimic things without understanding them. It's better to be able to explain the concepts than to be able to recite them word-for-word. But that's above my pay grade. I can pass my methods any time with no advance notice. But I will never, EVER be a "methods master" because I think it is a waste of time and effort to memorize them verbatim. We'll come back to this in a bit.
Another reason I wanted a part time job was to force me to start my own business. The plan was to buy a rental property. And then another. And another. Possibly do some AirBnB, Uber, Rover, TaskRabbit, etc too. Eventually I'd be self employed. And eventually my money would be doing all the work for me. But to buy real estate--at least by my plan, one must be able to fix up real estate. And to fix up real estate, you need a vehicle larger than a Ford Mustang. Because it doesn't matter how clever you are, you can't fit a sheet of plywood in the trunk of a Ford Mustang. Rather than a junker pickup, I decided I wanted a van. With a van I could also haul my motorcycle, do in-city moves, go camping, or prepare for the zombie apocalypse. You can also do up a van like the A-Team van.
Now I didn't expect to do the actual A-Team van. You just don't find 1983 GMC G1500 Vanduras laying around these days. Not even a 1995 Chevy G30 or any other variant that has the right body style. But it turned out to be damnably hard to even find a cargo van that wasn't an extended version, had a sliding door, and no window on the sides with a suitably imposing grille at a price I was willing to pay for an "inspired by the A-Team"/alternate A-Team van. I was hoping for a 2008 Ford Econoline and actually started out on my motorcycle for the neighboring town to make an offer on one before I got cold feet and turned back. Bottom line, I'd been looking for the right van for close to 2 years. Then one day, while walking The Dog, I found a promising one literally 3 blocks from my house. A Ford Econoline. Actually a lot older than I wanted. Circa 1991. And it had a window in the sliding door. But it was enticing. I resolved to inquire on it. But the night before I did, I took one last turn on CraigsList. And there. In the neighboring town. Was an honest to God GMC G1500 Vandura with no windows and a sliding door. True it was a 1988, but the body is the same. Minimal rust. Allegedly well cared for. Not insane price.
I hit the bank and spent an August Sunday afternoon, screwing it down on my motorcycle with an envelope full of cash in one pocket and a loaded Walther PPK/S in the other (in case anything went sideways). I probably shouldn't have bought the thing. There were danger signs and roadblocks. But you really don't find this car in any shape any more. And I also didn't want to waste an entire day--and ride home on the cafe racer so I bought the bugger, rolled the bike up in the cargo bay and drove home with the "SERVICE ENGINE SOON' light on the entire way.
Now, when I was looking at doing an "inspired by the A-Team" van, things were simpler. you just need a spoiler, a red stripe, and a few other things. But when God drops the right van in your lap, then the pressure is on to get things right. I've actually done OK thus far, although it has definitely been an Odyssey--that isn't nearly over yet. But that's another story and I'm sidetracked enough at this point. Suffice it to say that I'm close enough to being done now that it pains me that I don't have more time to work on The Van. For reference, here's where we're at as of yesterday:
So, while I increasingly hate my job--even though ostensibly I'm doing something I love--helping people and solving problems--I don't want to have to hunt for a different job because that takes away time from working on The Van. But I also can't just quit my job because when it comes time to buy a rental property lenders kind of want you to be employed.
There's more, but I've rambled on long enough just getting you up to speed. I still need to talk about Hub School, spending freezes, and bringing me in to fix something after it's too late to fix anything--which is what sparked making this rambling screed in the first place.