When I started work, I was asked my professional opinion on a lot of things, most of which I could only respond with “I’ll get back to you.” A good question is usually asked by other engineers or other developers: How do you do this? Did you think about this? Why does it do that? These are questions that I like, they rely on things that I know or have dealt with before. They are ones on which I can draw from my immense (ha!) experience. Compare that to, say, a manger’s question and you can instantly feel the your feet moving- feel that? That’s the earth shaking. It’s a question like “How long will this take you?” or even worse, it’s a question that has the dreaded binary, yes/no answer. “Can you do it”, is by far the worst question a new hire can be asked, and the reasons are all summed up above with those implications we attach to our response.

Or maybe this whole “no” thing comes from confrontation-avoidance. While this is a whole other topic of conversation, my generation has been raised to think they are the most special people in the world, and any dent in this (mentally created)  armor might cause far away universes to die. But I digress.

As a new employee, I was eager to prove myself, as were many of my peers I’ve since talked to about it all, by becoming dependable and have that “get-it-done attitude”. If I said no, I’d be setting limits on my ability too early and without actually knowing what they were. Of course, we should let the answer be the truth, and not let our emotions or view of what that means move us otherwise. If the answer is disappointing, perhaps the question should be rephrased (re-scoped) or maybe they should ask someone who is more qualified, which is sometimes a staggering few people, as it turns out. But I felt I’d be sending a clear message that other people were better suited for certain tasks than I was. I wasn’t about to let that happen, and as it turned out, I got in over my head pretty quickly.

Now, maybe other people inherently have the ability to say no to certain tasks and people, but I wasn’t one of them, but part of me feels, in retrospect, that I shouldn’t have been asked some of these questions. It’s not that the project failed or I didn’t meet my deadlines, but I had to kill myself to do a few of them. At some point, people need to know what new employees don’t know, or at the very least, multiply what they think the effort will be by 2.5 (at least).

I’ve learned my lesson in one respect, I know my time lines a bit better than before. I still think I’m the right person for every job floated my way (this both a product of my self-perceived talent as well as the nature of the “find your own work or you’re out” job market). But it’s hard for me to say no when people ask me to do something- i might say that it’ll take me a while, but I’ll still say I can do it. I want to do it. I still am young and need to prove myself. And maybe I should let me work speak for itself, but the more that’s out there I feel the louder my words will be- and when something is particularly exciting to me, I don’t want to pass it up.

And in celebration, we went out and had a bit of fun. Or rather, I had a bit of fun. Three whiskey gingers, and several beers later i was in high spirits- three sheets to the wind, to be honest. That expression actually stems from the loose ropes that keep sails tied down. When the windd blew and the ropes were loose, they’d stagger all over and resemble a man who had too much to drink. Or more precisely, me!

It would have been bad, except i was very entertaining. Chatting up some other customers at the bar. One vixen was so entranced that she had to stop by at my table, full of coworkers, and talk to me. Needless to say, when she left, the rest of the table was just basically awestruck.

Awesome.

Pictures were taken of me, apparently in order to black mail me with my girlfriend. Unfortunately, i don’t have one of those- so it’s not going to happen. Although upon realization that i was single, my coworkers soon found out that i don’t believe in fate or the absence of freewill. that set off some interesting conversation.

Anyways, there is a lot more to talk about but only in person. It will be good stories, i promise, so ask me

Friday I noticed something interesting about the gate that leads me into work. it’s one of thsoe gates that spins one way, and prevents people from getting in unless tehy use their badge as a key- very high tech stuff. But it’s been kind of a curmudgeon as of late, spinning with great resistance and laziness. Yet, last Friday and today, it has been a different story. Perhaps some WD-40 or something has been doused over the flames of rust and it is now free to follow it’s whimsical spirit. In Circles.

When searching to describe how this gate acts, it was difficult as most of my friends are east gaters, or as I like to call them “late”. I likened it to the spinning of a dreidel, but had no idea how to spell the word. Even as I type it now, there is a little red line underneath it, making me very suspicious indeed. Anyways, I found an article online and was reading it and I discovered something: the driedel game is a really lame game. No offense, but I recall making these in school and could put anything on the sides- I feel I owe it to kids everywhere to reinvent the game. In fact, much like a top, most of the joy of the ‘game’ is derived from seeing something spin as long as possible. Not from getting half of a pot of beans, or whatever the kids play with these days.

probably crack.

Speaking of Tops, I kept referring to a restaurant as “Tops” all weekend long, when obviously I meant  The Hat, a world famous pastrami place. On an aside, i think the word “world famous” is a bit deceiving, because anyone can use it. I can say my crotch is world famous, but that doesn’t make it so.

At all.

Back to Tops, I mean, the Hat. You can see whereI’d go wrong, hopefully. Top is a kind of hat, and indeed is the location on which a hat rests. regardless, The Hat makes a damn good pastrami sandwich , which (haha) I did not order. But I did get to try some, and can’t wait to go back. unfortunately I’ve taken a vow of not eating out for about two weeks because I’ve seriously been reviving the US economy myself with how much I’ve spent the past few weeks.

This spending hiatus all starts today, I might add, as I bought a cast iron skillet, some spice jars, and 4 ramekins yesterday. Nothing I needed, just things I wanted. But once I had them, making a souffle (I will always pronounce this in my mind “soo-ful”) was no longer a desire, but a necessary endeavor which would save my life. Or at least that’s how I felt.

But one thing: beating eggs by hand is absolutely absurd. It was my fault the eggs were cold to start with, but Jesus how did people do this centuries ago?  It was so bad, and i was so tire, that I ran to target during the Oscars to buy a hand mixer. and even that took damn near forever. But I think it was worth it, my chocolate soofuls were damn tasty, and I have one here in my office, just waiting for lunch. Or earlier, if i don’t plan on sharing.

What?

Aside from the food and tastiness (we also had sushi sunday. I love unagi, and I’m not referring to an ever present awareness, Ross), I also saw Vantagpoint, which wasn’t bad, but I also don’t recommend to anyone, as, if you do or have seen it, you see the same movie about eight times throughout the sitting. Funny story about the movie though, I was getting a refill on my coke zero (health FTW), and saw a guy with a large popcorn and large soda, alone. I nearly asked him if he was sitting alone for some strange reason, and quickly played through all the scenarios that would happen in my head and thought it better that I not 1) make him feel bad, or 2) give off the biggest gay vibe ever recorded in the Paseo theater complex’s History. I think not knowing this random stranger’s story is for the best.

Not that there is anything wrong with that (#2.)