Team

So now that I'm a 'real' supervisor, I have been assigned a team of people at work. I am responsible for their continual training and for communicating pertinent information to them. Our department is too big for one person to take care of everyone, so they are divided among the supervisors.

It's been interesting to note my feelings towards having a team of coworkers. My mother-hen nature is peeping out, only to feel bewilderedly out of place. My previous experience of being responsible for a newer subsection has been leading a small group at school (or previously, at youth group), and this bears very little resemblance. This time I'm not responsible for their overall wellbeing, and this has nothing to do with building community or connections between them - I just need to make sure they know what they need to know. But I wonder if I could/should make it more than that.

Our department has been too big for me to care about everyone, but now that I have been assigned a smaller group it seems less overwhelming to care. But is it really genuine to care about them now that they are my team, when I didn't especially care for these individuals before? I kinda just want to like people because I like them. Plus, some of them seem a little high maintenance (I've got the lady who recently spent time in a mental hospital, and another who is falling apart from a messy separation). It's not fair to them if I start expressing significant interest and then can't give as much as they start to expect...

So far this has just been theoretical, just thinking - I haven't done anything with them yet. I haven't even started our first training project, even though it's due in two weeks. I've felt a little overwhelmed because it is basically making sure everyone is trained on everything, and I haven't had any time at work yet. But tonight while trying to sleep I started thinking about getting some of the girls early shifts and doing our training at Starbucks, and trying to buddy the new guys up for some training tomorrow.

Mascara

So I got a new mascara. Finally. It was several weeks overdue (based on my new season/new mascara trend), but I've hardly been wearing makeup at all lately so it wasn't really worth getting something new if I wasn't going to use it. After two and a half months though, I am finally starting to break through no makeup week. Or trying to at least.

My new mascara is an obscure one: Borghese. It's supposed to be really fancy, and it was a little pricey but I'm a bit of a sucker so I got it anyway. And it's pretty good. I'm not sure I'd say it's amazing - it's not very dramatic. But it doesn't smudge much - I don't end up with a mascara shadow under my eyes at the end of the day - and it still washes off easily! So that's fantastic.

My season of not wearing makeup has made me think about my reasons for doing so. In theory, wearing makeup is important to me because I feel like it is important to look good and to do what you can with what you have. I feel more composed and prepared for life when I'm wearing makeup. It's like a sign of participation in life, similar to decorating for Christmas perhaps. I also think that it honors your company to look good for them, by wearing makeup for instance.

At the same time, though, I don't really need it. I look okay without makeup. And Justin has told me that he prefers when girls don't wear a lot of makeup (which I find surprisingly freeing). So makeup is not always a priority to me - especially when I'm perpetually running late for work or fighting with my eye-makeup remover.

Good Day

a. I had an early shift, which means I lost out on sleep but almost half my shift is over by the time we open and I have the evening free.
b. This morning at work JeffI walked by and asked if I wanted a coffee. I was a little confused, so he clarified that he was going to Starbucks and asked if I wanted anything. So I put in a request for a tea misto, and it was just the best thing ever. The gesture was as good as the drink - you really can't include everyone in Starbucks runs, and he chose to include me. We're not close, but this was kind of a vote for our positive-co-worker-ship.
c. I forecasted some doom this morning when a third of our opening staff called in sick (and we're kind of understaffed to start with). But everything went pretty smoothly, considering. Well, at one point the line-up went back almost as far as the flowers (several aisles) and there wasn't any more staff I could borrow. But there was nothing I could do about it, so it was a very pleasant defeat.
d. All the missing staff made me grateful for the staff that did show up. Several times I wanted to say, "Thank you so much for coming to work today!" (but I didn't).
e. I went to Quizno's for lunch, and picked up lunch for Anson and Tim too. Two good moments are associated with this. The first: standing at the podium with them discussing how, oh yeah, I did need to go for lunch break. Asking out loud what I should get for lunch, turning that question into "what do you guys want for lunch?" And the second good moment: Getting into my car and thinking about how it's easier to be happy when you're getting food, when the sun is shining and it's beautiful and warm out, and when you're gladly doing something nice for someone.
f. I had some good talks with coworkers on breaks.
g. I saw the license plate I was looking for (#73) while I was on buggies.
h. I remembered to apply for the payroll crosstraining position. I procrastinated - today was the deadline - and it feels good to have gotten it done and not missed the opportunity.
i. I bought Anson some pudding. We've talked before about how he only likes vanilla and I only like chocolate and how we should share pudding since it only comes in a variety pack. Then today it went on coupon, so I bought two boxes, separated the flavors, and left all the vanilla in his locker. Then on my way out I told him about it so he wouldn't be confused. "So I bought you some pudding! But only vanilla." Giving little surprises like this makes me feel like a good person.
j. I love coming home when the sun is shining into my apartment. It's such a bright feeling.

And the day's not even over yet!

Bad Day

a. my car is overheating. Probably out of coolant, due to that leak. I tried to buy more last night, but CanTi was already closed by the time I got off work.
b. my computer won't shut itself off. Or shut off when I tell it to. It sat on the blue "windows is shutting down screen" for ten hours while I slept. And it felt like it was overheating when I manually powered it down this morning.
c. my new internet, that has been SUCH a hassle but finally got fixed, doesn't work again. It's a new problem this time - before the lights weren't all coming on on the modem, this time those lights are on but my computer isn't getting any info. I'm not impressed. I wonder if the tech support has gotten over their week-long "technical difficulties" yet and will answer their phone now. In the meantime, I'm back to stealing internet from the neighbour who doesn't use a password.
d. Telus calls me every freaking day to offer me home phone service. I don't want a home phone! All I want is my cell phone! And I really, really need them to stop calling. It's been weeks. I'm not going to change my mind. The last guy I talked to promised he would be the last one - but they've called again, twice, since. They're making me mad.
e. my flowers died a premature death.
f. I hit almost all red lights on the way to work.
g. I covered "the board" at work for the other girl's breaks and when she left. She's not good at handing it over - she didn't really explain anything about what was going on or where anyone was, and she hadn't made any notes. And I had too many other things coming at me to really be able to acquaint myself with it. And I had little support from other supervisors/managers. That made me really stressed. I found myself saying things like "I don't know who needs breaks because I can't get time to figure it out because I'm doing a hundred other things." It's not actually very helpful to say that; it just reveals my stress. Upon hearing this, Anson asked what he could do to help me out, and I shoved the board at him, whispered "can you take this for a minute" and ran off to the bathroom to cry.
h. one of my managers is solidifying his place in the useless club, and interactions with him are taking on a 'Dale' quality.
i. towards the end of the day our supervisor till broke. So we couldn't sign in to use it or to count it out or anything. To get the money out we had to find the key to open it up manually.
j. the computers at work went down today. Then they came back up after close, leaving us with a lot of catch-up to do. I guess saves me work tomorrow, but tonight it meant I pretty much closed alone because Anson was finishing up the audit. Some of the paperwork that should be pre-prepared wasn't, so I had to search all around for the information for it. I didn't get a last break and I was hungry.
k. tonight we stepped in a hidden puddle. It looked all solid, but no, it was liquid and ankle-deep. And my shoes are not waterproof, so then my socks were wet and I was kinda miserable.
l. the restaurant ran out of the appetizer we ordered, and then tried to charge us for it anyways.
Boo.

But...
x. Anson sorted some things out while I was crying in the bathroom. He noticed things I hadn't realized yet, and I don't know how he did so much in just a few minutes.
y. I won't have to worry about finishing today's audit tomorrow.
z. I had a really nice dinner with Justin tonight.

(none)

I found another downfall to flowers. They die prematurely and then I feel guilty and depressed. Like I can't handle life. It's not that I was neglectful, but I feel like it's my fault anyways. Justin gives me nice flowers, and I can't keep them alive. Sad.

Unfulfilling

We went out for coffee tonight. The girls. And I guess I felt disappointed.

I didn't get a chance to talk about things that are important to me right now. Things like my crisis of faith and my relationship with Justin. Granted, I didn't bring them up. But they didn't ask, and there weren't many lulls in the conversation when I felt like I could burst in and talk about myself.

Maybe they don't know? Maybe they don't know what's going on enough to ask about it? Maybe they aren't reading my blog. But they seem up to date on another friend's blog. And it's not like this is brand new stuff; Christmas was three weeks ago... Maybe they forgot? I guess that's fair. I regularly forget the details of what friends write on their blogs, especially when we are together. I guess this means they aren't worried about me.

I would like the conversation to be deeper. I would like this community to continue to be one where I can bring forth what lies beneath the surface.

Remember when we went to Wendy's and she shared her frustrations and considered transferring out?
Remember the evening after that meeting when we debriefed with tuna sandwiches and vitamin soup?
Remember that kinda lame baby shower when I shared about my moral downswing?

I still need and want your voices in my life...

Book

So I finished reading "The Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible." It's about the author's experiment in trying to obey all the rules the Bible contains. The guy who wrote it also wrote a book about reading the entire Encyclopaedia Britannica, which I want to read now. (The book, not the encyclopedia.) "The Year of Biblical Living" was good. It was funny, interesting, a good read. Towards the end it started to sound like one of those "atheist checks out churches" books that it turns out I've read my personal quota of already, but if you haven't already read those other books you wouldn't notice that. He said some really good things, some things I wanted to keep a record of. This is the place where I do that!

On the topic of being thankful and saying grace before meals:
"I'd like to thank God for the land that he provided so that this food might be grown."
Technically, that's enough. That fulfills the Bible's commandment. But while in thanksgiving mode, I decide to spread the gratitude around:
"I'd like to thank the farmer who grew the chickpeas for this hummus. And the workers who picked the chickpeas. And the truckers who drove them to the store. And the old Italian lady who sold the hummus to me at Zingone's deli and told me 'Lots of love.' Thank you.
Now that I type it, it sounds like an overly earnest Oscar speech for best supporting Middle Eastern spread. But saying it feels good...
The prayers are helpful. They remind me that the food didn't spontaneously generate in my fridge. They make me feel more connected, more grateful, more grounded, more aware of my place in this complicated hummus cycle. They remind me to taste the hummus instead of shoveling it into my maw like it's a nutrition pill. And they remind me that I'm lucky to have food at all. Basically, they help me get outside of my self-obsessed cranium.
I'm not sure that this is what the Bible intended, but it feels like a step forward. (95-96)

Regarding the time he ends up locked inside the bathroom:
By noon [after two and a half hours] I'm sitting on the floor, my back against the shower door. I sit. And sit some more. And something odd happens. I know that, outside the bathroom, the world is speeding along. That blogs are being read. Wild salmon is being grilled. Reggaeton is being explained to middle-aged white marketing executives.
But I'm OK with it. It doesn't cause my shoulders to tighten. Nothing I can do about it. I've reached an unexpected level of acceptance. For once, I'm savoring the present. I'm admiring what I have, even if it's thirty-two square feet of fake marble and an angled electrical outlet. I start to pray. And, perhaps for the first time, I pray in true peace and silence - without glancing at the clock, without my brain hopscotching from topic to topic.
This is what the Sabbath should feel like. A pause. Not just a minor pause, but a major pause. Not just a lowering of the volume, but a muting. As the famous rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel put it, the Sabbath is a sanctuary in time...
[Eventually his wife comes home and lets him out.]
I am free. I can return my emails, make my calls. It's kind of a shame. (124-125)

Considering avoiding negative language:
The interesting thing is, the less often I vocalize my negative thoughts, the fewer negative thoughts I cook up in the first place. My theory is, my thoughts are lazy. They say to themselves, "Well, we'll never make it out into the world, so why even bother?" It's more powerful than repression. The thoughts don't even form enough to require being repressed. (157)

Obeying the commandment to only eat fruit from trees over five years old:
I tried to find out the ages of all the fruits I ate by emailing and calling grocery stores and companies. This was not a success... I was reduced to researching which kinds of fruits came from slow-bearing trees and which came from fast-bearing. I learned that peach trees can bear fruit in two years. Too dangerous. Pear trees in four. Again, too risky. But cherry trees, those are slowpokes. They take at least five to seven from planting to produce.
Cherries are safe. Not my favorite fruit, but they will be my fruit for the year. I went to Fairway supermarket, bought a half pound and began eating them out of the plastic bag on the walk home, spitting the seeds into garbage cans on the street corners.
Each cherry took about three seconds to eat. Three seconds to eat, but at least five years in the making. It seemed unfair to the hard-working cherry tree. The least I could to was to devote my attention to the cherry in those three seconds, really appreciate the tartness of the skin and the faint crunching sound when I bite down. I guess it's called mindfulness. Or being in the moment, or making the mundane sacred. Whatever it is, I'm doing it more. Like the ridiculously extended thank-you list for my hummus, the fruit taboo made me more aware of the whole cherry process, the seed, the soil, the five years of watering and waiting. That's the paradox: I thought religion would make me live with my head in the clouds, but as often as not, it grounds me in this world. (172)

Receiving advice regarding motivation:
He told me: Stop looking at the Bible as a self-help book. That is the way I view it a lot of the time. I ask myself, "How can religion make me more joyous? How can it give my life more meaning? How can it help me raise my son so he won't end up an embezzler or a racketeer?"
But religion is more than that. It's about serving God. Yossi tells me this story:
Two men do their daily prayers while at work. One spends twenty minutes in his office behind a closed door and afterward feels refreshed and uplifted, like he just had a therapy session. The other is so busy, he can squeeze in only a five-minute prayer session between phone calls. He recites his prayers superfast in a supply closet.
Who has done the better thing?
"The first," I say.
"No," says Yossi. "The second."
The second guy was doing it only for God. He was sacrificing his time. There was no benefit to himself.
I think: That's interesting. Prayers are a good way to teach me the concept of sacrificing my time for the higher good. I'll become a more selfless person. A better person.
And then I realize: I'm back to self-help again. I can't escape it. (208)

Flowers

Justin got me flowers! Aw!

I have slightly mixed feelings toward flowers. Of course, it's totally sweet and wonderful that he gave me flowers. I was surprised and it made me feel so special.

Flowers are a big deal to Katie. A huge deal. She's never received flowers from a guy before, ever. So she figures that the first guy who gives her flowers will be the one she ends up marrying. I don't feel the same way, but I think of her when I receive flowers. This is kind of a big deal. He didn't have to get me flowers, but he did. It means something.

I got a lot of flowers from my ex. He gave me flowers ALL THE TIME - it was his sweet goal to make sure I always had flowers, so when they died they'd soon be replaced. But... the more common something is, the less significance it has. And flowers kinda feel like something that characterized that relationship, something I'm not so comfortable with considering how that turned out. But I guess this is a chance to give it a new significance. Flowers are now a characteristic of this relationship too.

Thanks for the flowers, Justin.

Honesty

The other day I had coffee with my friend Carolyn. Carolyn is someone who values authenticity and vulnerability, and that has characterized our friendship. We haven't talked in a while - she got married this summer and took a little social hiatus. I sent her a Christmas card and suggested getting together sometime, and she emailed a response saying that sounds great but it will have to be soon because she's moving to Kuwait with her husband next week! So we went out for coffee on Wednesday.

It was really good. One of her first questions for me was about whether I am using my degree for anything, and I answered in the negative and explained that God and I aren't really friends right now so it's seeming less likely that I will. She understood, and this conversation gave me a chance to talk it out a little more. Then we talked about church as I drove her home, and I articulated that I wouldn't really be comfortable in a church that prays, sings, or reads the Bible right now, and we laughed, and in parting she said she hopes I find what is good.

Later I briefly emailed Trevor about the experience (I've been better about keeping in touch lately):

Today I went for coffee with a friend of mine who is moving to Kuwait next week! ... We had a really good talk. She's one of those people that I feel like I can be really honest about my life with and she understands, so it's refreshing to talk to her. But I guess it won't happen again for a while!

And he responded:

That's awesome that you got to see your friend! That's too bad that she's leaving though, will you guys be able to keep in touch when she goes? Do you feel like you can be honest with me about your life?

Dude... what do I say to that? Especially when the answer isn't a flat out "yes." Do you feel like I can be honest with him about my life? Emrgh....

There are levels of honesty. Most of my friends get a pretty high level of honesty from me. Carolyn gets a particularly high level because she understands. Trevor gets a lower level because I'm not really sure he/our friendship can handle the honesty. He looks up to me, and my role in his life is to be an encouragement to him, especially in his faith. Though I don't feel so qualified for that now, it feels more appropriate to fade into neutrality than to take the offensive and become a spiritual discouragement. Also, he's so young. He comes from such a young hopeful perspective. I don't want to burst his bubble, and also I wouldn't expect him to be capable of a lot of empathy.

But how do I say that to him? Maybe I should just blurt out all the things I don't tell him so he realizes what lies beneath the surface and why I don't share it all. But that would be kinda counterproductive, because then he would know all these things... I might be able to avoid the question? But that's probably not the best option... Every attempt at explanation seems to have holes in it, though. It all seems to boil down to whether this is a real friendship if I am not being real, a point which has some validity.

Hmm... it's hard to be honest sometimes. This is one of those times when it feels pretty awkward. But here's my stab at it. I think there are levels of honesty. I can be honest with you about a lot of things, but there are some matters that don't seem to have a place between us. We are at different places on our journeys, and I'm not confident that you would understand. Also, I feel like my role in your life is to be an encouragement, and sometimes my honesty would really be a downer.

This also gets me thinking about what an appropriate response to this would be. If someone were to say to me, "I'm only comfortable showing you part of myself," is it better to say, "Okay, whatever you're comfortable with, no pressure," or "Please let me in and show me more! I invite you to be honest with me!"?

Update 01/13/09: Trevor responded by saying: "I understand that there are some things that you can't tell me, and I can definitely respect that! I appreciate you always encouraging me, but if there is something that you ever need to get off your chest or if you ever need me to pray about it then I'll definitely be here to listen/pray =)" Which was a pretty good response.

Machiavelli

I just finished reading The Prince by Machiavelli, written in 1513. It's on Penguin's list of great books (success #1!), and it has also been a staple of European political education. It's about how an absolute ruler can gain and maintain control over a state. I first heard about it in high school social studies class, I bought it years ago, and I finally got around to reading it this week.

One great quality is that The Prince itself (excluding the introduction and appendices) is only eighty five pages long! Other than that... I found it a little dull. A little irrelevant. You see, I've never lived under a monarchy, and medieval politics look much different than current situations. Machiavelli tries to be helpful by illustrating his points with real life examples, but unfortunately since they are all from hundreds of years ago, I have barely/never heard of these people. Also, it wasn't as sensationalistic and obviously offensive as I expected it to be.

Perhaps this book's value can be found in contrasting it with the other books of its day, and that it why it has remained popular. That doesn't really mean that it's still good, just that it's better than the others. And I guess Machiavelli does present some revolutionary ideas (although they seem less revolutionary five hundred years later). For instance, he writes that although the appearance of virtue is important, virtue itself will often cause one to lose power instead of gain it. Because power is the ultimate goal of the book, virtue is disregarded. In my opinion, virtue is important for its own sake, and probably more important than power. Yet, on the other hand, moderation is the key virtue, and in some contexts what seems like the kindest course of action is actually unkind and disastrous. Less virtue can be more virtuous in the long run?

Machiavelli lived in a republic with no absolute ruler, and he worked for the government. His other writings seem to suggest that there lie his political ideals. There are questions therefore about how he can advise an ruler on how to gain absolute power. As a result, some have suggested that The Prince should be considered satire. An interesting thought!

New Year!

I made some New Years Resolution-y goals for this year:
1) buy some napkins from Ikea
2) read 5 of the books on Penguin's Best Books Ever Written list
That's it. I figure I can probably achieve that.

...Remembering last year's thoughts

A friend posted a series of pictures on her blog chronicling the year in her life. To look back, it seems bizarre to me that this year has included so much - that all these events happened in only the past twelve months. Crazy! I wonder what the view from a year from now will look like...

We went to see fireworks last night. Fireworks in the winter is a different experience than fireworks in the summer. Usually I hope they go on and on. This time I wanted them to be over as soon as possible. "Is this the last one? Please? My face is freezing off!"