Friday, January 19, 2018

Job insecurity

Following on news reported in Monday’s post, my now ex-manager stopped by my office yesterday to announce that the wheels of HR have ground exceedingly fine, stopping at last at confirming my transfer to the academic project.

Yay.

My new manager rang me from somewhere in Florida (where she is seeking funding for something; possibly this project, possibly not; it’s not clear) to also announce that the transfer is complete and express her hope that I’m enthusiastic about it. I, of course said I am—which is true, although I believe my enthusiasm would be less measured if the appointment were for longer than six months.

However, at least she did say that I can add value to this process, which can’t be provided by anyone else in the organization. So there’s that.

Don’t know what my new title is, and I’ve not seen a job description, so don’t know how I’ll be measured when performance evaluations come around in March. (What appears to have been submitted to HR is “business development”, which the whole world round means “sales”, and I am in no way a salesperson. So for external purposes, I’m keeping my previous title.) But hey-ho, just have to take it as it comes.



Thursday, January 18, 2018

Bird buffet

We got more snow here in the District They Call Columbia—a dusting, pretty much, although enough to cause schools to close.

But temperatures were and are right chilly, and my birds are back to emptying the feeder in less than 24 hours. I know that I keep my house's thermostat at 72°F; these little dudes need to crank up their own thermostats on their own. So they are hungry.

Like this one:


And a couple of his friends:


And a few dozen others. In the first hour after I refilled the feeder yesterday afternoon, the level of seed went down two inches. They’ve almost emptied the 15-pound sack of Fine Tunes I laid in over the holidays.

So I’m glad another 15-pound sack is coming from Amazon today.





Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Nacho usual snack

Nothing much to report today, so I’m pulling something out from my files.

A while ago there was an exchange on Twitter about guacamole, and someone made a reference that I didn’t quite grok, so I asked her. Turned out to be something a year earlier about adding ground up apples.

Now, guacamole is like religion for its fans. Actually, it is religion for its fans. During the last Republican administration, there was a gigantic hoo-ha over First Lady Laura Bush’s recipe, which uses lemon juice. Folks were ready to riot in the streets because lime juice is what their mamas taught them.

(We won’t have to worry about anyone giving a toss about whatever recipe Melania might put forward in an attempt to seem in any way humanoid. No one would believe that she is.)

Anyhow, I was reminded of the New York Times screwing with the delicate balance of the guac universe with their peas nonsense. My Twitter pal pointed me to the earlier thread, which I share with you.








Buen provecho.




Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Kinda squirrelly

For a couple of days last week, we here in the District They Call Columbia practically had short-sleeve weather. Friday in particular, we almost hit 70°. And then Saturday we were back into the barely double digits.

What this respite meant for my back yard was that, for one all-too-brief period, the birds took 48 hours to empty the Fine Tunes feeder. Since then we’ve been back to the 24-hour cycle.

But what’s interesting to me is the squirrel behavior. Over the weekend one squirrel (I assume it’s one—I suppose it could be more than one, but since I can’t tell one squirrel from another, I’m going to go with just one) started…eying my living room with an unhealthy interest, and climbing the sliding glass door.

Technically, it’s climbing the rubber gasket at the edge of the door, and occasionally scurrying across the screen door. Viz:





It runs up, looks around, sees no change from the last time it climbed up, and then eventually retruns to earth.

It’s also tried climbing the pole to the feeders, rediscovering the torpedo baffle that still foils its marauding intent. I’m glad, because I just ordered my second 15-pound sack of Fine Tunes from Amazon, and if those little furry vacuum cleaners got a direct line to the seed, I just couldn’t afford it.




Monday, January 15, 2018

Gratitude Monday: help in the search

So this happened…

I found out five weeks ago that the job I was hired to do two years ago is…no longer. Following the company’s board meeting the first week in December, my manager told me that they’d decided to end the new business innovation program, which left me—the Senior Innovation Manager—kind of up a creek and paddleless.

(I also discovered a week later, at the company all-staff year-end wrap-up that my position had been only funded for four years, and I’d been hired two years into that funding period. This little fact had at no time been mentioned to me during the interview and hiring process.)

There are a number of reasons why this should be—the original notion for exploring new products and services had been something championed by the previous CEO, and this current one just was never that much into it. It was also part of an overall organizational transformation initiative, which also has disappeared after an initial fanfare. And it was a task like unto Sisyphus to try to get people to understand that even a non-profit needs to bring in revenues if it wants to keep supporting its mission. But mostly, I think, this outfit just isn’t comfortable with doing anything that they haven’t done for the past century. The way I’ve described it to myself and my manager is: they’re all for innovation, as long as they don’t have to do anything differently.

(Moreover—my manager has burned a lot of innovation goodwill, tbh, by pushing his “communication and collaboration platform” that no one wants to use. That cost a few bob, and he’s described it to everyone as “innovative”, when it’s not. So, they associate “innovations” with [platform], and think, “Eh, no.”)

For two days after the board meeting, my manager avoided me, which was suspicious, and only when we had our weekly meeting did he mention that this was a thing. But, he said, there was a proposal to have me move over to another division for six months, to build out a business plan for a program that is related to one of my ideas for innovation. (This program is focused on diversity in academia; I’d pitched it for the business world, but that’s a market too far for this outfit, so we’re sticking with what we already know.)

I’m afraid I blurted out in disbelief.

“And [head of program] is down with this?”

“Yes, she’s enthusiastic.”

“[Head of program]?”

“Yes.”

Ah, but there was a fly in this ointment. The head of HR, who has been as useful as a chocolate teapot, stuck her neb into it, wanting to know if [head of program] didn’t already have someone on staff who could create the business plan. [Head of program] insisted that she does not, and that I am uniquely qualified to do this. My manager said that he cannot guarantee anything, but this was what the plan was.

Now, in an organization with competent HR, this would have made me uneasy, but with a dysfunctional HR, whose head has meddled in hiring, and whom I’ve witnessed in person insert herself into organizational decisions as a clear exercise in power grabbing—well, I had no confidence at all that anything good (even “good” in the circumstance: that I’d be getting a temporary reprieve, instead of an immediate pink slip) could come of this.

Look—I understand it’s HR’s job to protect the interests of the company, not the employee’s. However, it’s not HR’s job to overrule hiring decisions that are legal and in keeping with company policies, and I’ve seen this woman do it and heard of other instances of her doing it. For just one example, one department had interviewed multiple candidates and told HR, “We want to hire these two people”. Ms. Chocolate Teapot replied, “No, you have to hire this one.”

(Most of the negative reviews of this company on Glassdoor cite HR as reason for the negativity, with incompetence as a major factor. One memorable one referred to its operation as “the Mean Girls Club”. She is leaving the company (along with many of her hires) at the end of the month, “after 15 years of service”, with the bare minimum of thanks from the CEO.)

This was how things were left following the board meeting on 8 December. In the intervening five bloody weeks, there was every possibility that Ms. CT would find some excuse to toss me. Imagine my holidays. And every time I asked my (current) manager what the status was, he’d shrug and say there was no update.

Last week—without update on my status—I was called to a meeting about the business plan (slugged a “huddle”, God give me strength), at which it became clear that, truly, building a business plan is not in this department’s wheelhouse. Following it, I consulted my (current) about a possible way to proceed, and he said, almost as an aside, “Just so you know, there’s funding for you for six months. After that [head of program] will need to get funds from outside sources for you.”

Now, that’s how most of the department’s programs work: they’re funded through outside grants. (It’s also why the company as a whole just can’t grasp the urgency of providing products and services that drive revenues, much less make a profit.) But, you know—it might have occurred to my (current) manager that this information about funding might possibly have been something I’d have liked to know, oh, say, five weeks ago when it was proposed.

However, I’d already reached out to a couple of people I know to start the process of networking into a new job. One of them may be a bit of a bust, but the other—a product management consultant I met in the Valley They Call Silicon—immediately riffled through his network and gave me introductions to a couple of guys he knows in this area. (I went prepared into our conversation, with a list of companies and verticals I’m interested in; I believe in giving people whose help you want all the information you can to make it easy for them to help you.) From that conversation, I’ve talked with his two guys, and from them on to some more.

I also confided in one person at my company, who commutes in to the District They Call Columbia on the train from Baltimore. He mentioned my situation to one of his fellow commuters, who works for an outfit in Fairfax. She gave my details to a colleague who runs the company’s emerging technologies practice, and he reached out to me immediately. He’s on travel, but we’ll chat in February.

Well, anyhow, this is Gratitude Monday, and this post isn’t about how dysfunctional this organization is. Or about my (current) manager’s obtuseness. Or about the long, hard slog that a job search is. Because what I’m grateful for is that there are people who will help—people who have helped—in contrast to the past, when people either dodged, or who blustered that they’d be happy to help, had connections, etc., but then all you heard was crickets.

I’d thought that this would be my last job. But since that’s turned out to be unlikely, I’m really grateful that I am not alone in one more search.