pre-spring

It’s been another brutal few months, and I tend to not feel terribly creative when so much energy is sucked out of me by stressful situations.

This was the year I thought would be the turn-around, and for a while, it looked like it was going to work out that way.

True, I did get out of a tormenting business entanglement with crooks and felons, and found myself a much better situation with reliable, honest management. How it happened was total serendipity. That particular five year nightmare is, so it seems, behind me. [I wish the rest of them were.]

True, I did have a position for awhile, one that I’d sought for a long time. I knew it was the right path, just the wrong owner, wrong company. “Ethical issues.” Too bad I have some, and she doesn’t. [Luna-Bitch calls IRS regs on travel and entertainment expenses “gray areas.” I kinda think they’d disagree.] And, from what I’ve heard, everything I predicted would happen at The Circus is coming to pass. Still, I would’ve preferred to say until the door closed. It’s not like I’m not used to working for bankrupt companies or anything, right?

Those two events pointed to a better year, which I swore, a year ago, had to happen. Maybe it was. Right now it doesn’t seem like it; I’m operating in crisis mode again.

Then there are other issues and observations starting to make me wonder what the hell….

…How is it that some people, even though they have never done what you aspire to do, and don’t even know anyone who has, think they can give you advice on how to get there or, rather, why you can’t, or never will, or should stop trying?

…Why does a sudden stroke of financial luck turn some folks into experts on everything? All of a sudden, they’re smarter than you, and you’re an idiot. I know I shouldn’t be surprised by this, but it’s where it’s coming from that has me floored this time.

…Then there are friends that you don’t know how they got to be so important, but are glad as hell they’re in your life right now, making you laugh when everyone else is just criticizing and doubting.

There has to be a time when it stops getting worse, and starts getting better. I’d settle for a homeostatic state at this point.

Oh. Yeah. My damned birthday is particularly irritating this year, and it’s more than just the number that’s bugging me: it’s the situation I find myself in when that number turns that I hate.

So, in the hopes of distracting myself from all of that for just one day….I lined up a full day, but Mother Nature brought a blizzard to the party. Two of the four activities I’d planned have been cancelled, possibly a third. I sit around the house enough, and it may sound relaxing to folks that don’t get to do that very often, but I’ve had all the “peace and quiet” I can stand, I’m over it, and I’ll be damned if I want to do that this birthday.

“Pre-spring?” I know. A friend of mine uses that to trick herself into thinking positive thoughts about the arctic we go through from now ‘til end of high school basketball season. I think I’ll give it a try. Spring, real spring, won’t come any too soon this time.

work

I like to work, always have, and almost hate to admit that. Most everyone I know, if given a winning lottery ticket, would happily abandon their current employer. I’m not sure what I’d do. Depends on the employer, I guess.

I like the challenges of learning new things and then teaching them. I seem to have an affinity for accounting software. I love numbers, balancing, reporting, analyzing, translating it all. I love learning a new-to-me industry’s nuances. Call me a traitor to my gender, but I’d rather talk business than babies.

I did a lot of good at this last one, and in a short period of time.

I found their accounting records in barely contained disarray; now, all but two or three balance sheet accounts have been reconciled.

They never had cash flow statements with their financials, and now they do, or did, anyway, until two days ago.

I taught my bookkeeper and the department heads the importance of the dates on those invoices they were approving (usually months or more late), and explained the impact that one simple thing had on the income statements.

I found the problem with the monthly inventory adjustments, and corrected that.

I found out the reason behind the ongoing payable and receivable reporting issues, and corrected that.
I chased down inter-company balancing errors that dated back 10 years, and fixed those.
The company, at me and my bookkeeper’s urging, finally switched to a payment gateway service that’s the best there is out there. They’d been trying to make that change for years.
I tried to mentor the new GM; she’s in over her head. I’d like to think even a bit of what I tried to teach her sunk in, but I’m afraid the evidence points to the contrary.
I tried to restore my bookkeeper’s confidence in her skills; she’s really good, she’d just been verbally abused by the owner for so long, she was starting to buy into it.
I shortened the month-end close process from over three weeks to six business days.
I never missed a deadline, and I did more than I was asked.
 

Still, it wasn’t enough.

What I learned:

*I know more than I thought I did. To some extent, although this is another beating, my self-confidence has been restored. It’s tough to maintain that when you have even some of your closest friends starting to doubt you.
*A manager, in over her head, will boldface lie to you without so much as a twitch in order to save her own ass skin. When you hear her say “it needed to be done,” you know she’s just compromised another principle; that is, if she had any to begin with.

*An owner who says she doesn’t want to be surrounded by “yes men” really does.

*When one of the interview team tells you the owner “really cares” about her employees, you should question why she even thought she had to bring that up.

*If told the employee turnover rate is low, you should find a way to check. [In this instance, the owner has fired over 50% of the employees since January; she hires more, and then fires them a few months later.]

*Never trust anyone wearing knee-high turquoise lizard skin boots and junk jewelry the size of gumballs, or anyone with a standing Botox appointment.

What a disappointment, to have searched so long, only to find I’d accidentally joined the The Circus. Luna-Bitch and her Gigolo will soon find themselves in the same position they put everyone else – out on the streets. What they won’t understand is why no one will care.

random thoughts from a dark room

About all you can do in a flat out position is let your mind wander. She dims the lights, more so she can see the screen than for my comfort, I think.

I hope for a nap. No coffee no water 7am is unreasonable punishment.

I’m not used to being treated like a customer rather than a nuisance. I got a phone call yesterday, asking me which way I wanted something done, rather than someone just making a decision that I was going to pay for.

The goo starts out warm, but quickly turns cold.

Will I ever fly again? Do I care if I do or don’t? Used to be, one of them would call and let me hitch a ride to anywhere they were going.  C501 to PA32 to C172, didn’t matter to me. Miss that.

I ask a few questions about how the machine works, but I’m too tired to keep the conversation going for long.

Egg rolls. As soon as I get out of here, I need to find egg rolls. I’m starving and thirsty. No-fat dinner, she said. I probably overdid that.

Why am I here?

Bad guys should be made to wear rat masks so they can be identified immediately, rather than years later, too late.

I’m close to dozing off, when she interrupts….deep breath….hold it…..breathe.

Bacon.

Or pizza.
One shouldn’t crave things like that at 7am.

….beep…beep…beep….the shutter of her “camera” sounds like a Geiger counter, or a bomb detector. I guess, in a way, that’s what it is.

Is “grown man” an oxymoron? One in particular, once filled up with liquid courage, becomes pettier than a room full of 14 year old schoolgirls. Does he regret what he does at midnight, when he wakes up the next morning? Or does he even remember?

“You’re almost done.”

I need to go somewhere. Again, I wish I could fly away, with a pilot to take me, get out of this hellish weather that has no end, even just for a day. Michigan. As far north as you can get. One day. Too much to ask, I suppose.

“Roll to the side now, honey.”

If they spent half as much time tending to their own business as they do tending mine, their business wouldn’t be failing.

I know she sees it, but she can’t say. The report will be written in 24 hours, then delivered to the referring physician.

***
Turns out, it took 15 days. Complete nonsense.  Even then, it was only an assistant who delivered the results.
Yes, they found something, but it was not what I expected.
She seems completely unconcerned with the findings.
Really???
I’m not a pain wimp. I’ve broken an arm, shattered a wrist, but this pain was a 12 on the one to 10 scale, and the first in ever my life to cause me to consider dialing 911 or driving myself to the ER.

New doc, second opinion?

crazy, stupid...

...hot.
[I know. I've been busy. More about that later.]
Who ordered this nonsense?
We didn't have winter. No one complained about that so much, but some of us did wonder if the snow deficit was a sign of things to come.
We missed spring, too. 85°F and mowing in mid-March? What happened to snow during high school basketball playoff season?
And now? Triple digit temperatures. Daily.
Sometime during the 82 days I've been a boss, Indiana must've had an earthquake and the entire state slid south at least five hardiness zones and clear to the equator.
Our ozone exceeds the "federally mandated standards." I have to laugh. Did the government tell Mother Nature about its standards?

So there's plenty of crazy and stupid. Not just the weather, either.

in the nick of time

Being out of work for an extended period of time erodes your confidence.

Turns out, being at a new job does, too.

I wonder how many ways I can find to make myself feel like an inept idiot? I'm pretty good at it.

I did finally figure out why this new situation is - or was - so disconcerting.

Back when I was a rookie accountant it used to be the norm that you’d work for years on the same clients. You’d typically take them over from someone who’d left your accounting firm or become partner. The good part about that was there would be plenty of files to review and usually the partner in charge to fill you in. So year after year, you’d get to know multiple businesses and their owners. Eventually, one of them would start to grow and, liking you and your work so much, and needing more help, they’d hire you away as their controller. You could step right into that role without any down time at all. If you got any luckier, they’d continue to grow, and you’d end up CFO.

It’s not like that anymore, or at least not in my case. Sarbanes-Oxley may’ve played a role in it, too.

Now if you get hired as an ‘inside’ accountant, you’re going in nearly cold. Sure, numbers are numbers, and you may even know a lot about the business model that’s hired you, but they’re all a bit different, and there’s a huge learning curve that would’ve not been there had you been working with them all along.

I am lucky this time. The complete nerve rattling that I expected to last several months only lasted a week and a half.

Yes.

I probably forgot to say….three years, five months, 16 days, 549 applications, 27 interviews. Someone finally said yes.

ata, four years later

Yesterday was the fourth anniversary of the demise of my absolute favorite company/job ever. Judging from the flurry of activity on the social networks yesterday, it seems to have hit us all especially hard this year, and none of us knows why. Does it take that long to fully morn a death and face reality?

Being in the finance department, I saw and knew more of the truth of what was going on rather than having to depend on the rumors that swirled. It wasn’t just MatlinPatterson that came calling. I remember more than one “investor group” sending in their army to do due diligence, I just can’t remember now who they were. I do recall doing my own research on MP and coming to the realization that they would not be an investor who would tolerate bottom line red ink for long. Most of our directors told us little to nothing, or at least that was the case with the director of my area. A few had the decency to warn their departments to pack their desks ahead of time and be prepared for the worst.

Nevertheless, the day it actually happened was a shock to all of us.

There isn’t much to say that hasn’t been said already. One thing, though…to this day, I have yet to hear of any company who inspires the kind of loyalty, longing, sadness, outright emotion that this company did in its employees. I don’t know what the magic was, but if I were a business owner, I’d aspire to that. Working there was maddening, fun, frustrating, tumultuous, exhausting, exciting, and made you half crazy. I don’t know how you’d go about creating an environment like that. Was it the people or the industry, both, or something else?

I think I can say that we’re all still looking for it. Someplace we can call home, someplace we want to stay.

I need, I want

The list is frigging endless. Spring is here, I’ve awakened (at least for now), and deficiencies abound. I’m overwhelmed.

I need a committee of handymen to walk about my house, garage, and yard and just look it over. Oh, she needs that doorknob tightened, oh she needs those bricks lifted and sand backfilled where the chipmunks ruined her walkway, oh look, she needs the oil removed from her garage floor. There are a million things like that, so prevalent and pervasive I nearly don’t see them anymore. These are the kinds of things men see and just know how to fix. It’s in their genetic code. No insult intended to the women I know who have this skill.

I want to go to the grocery and buy absolutely anything and everything I both need and want. Stockpile, even.

I need an army of gardeners for a day. The front yard looks like a cyclone passed through, and I’m starting to get rumblings of complaints. The neighbors aren’t happy. It’ll look great in a month when the thousands of cream-colored daffodils I planted over the years all bloom, but right now the house looks abandoned. The broken window boxes drooping off the second story windows don’t help, either. I need someone who knows how to repair those, too. I’ll even fill ‘em this year. I used to do that all the time, and I miss it; they look so cute.

I want to go shopping. It’s been years. I’d been promised a shopping trip for my birthday last December, but that didn’t happen.

I need a few guys with chainsaws to cut and stack the trees that have already fallen, and maybe cut down one or two more. Several are tilting worse than I do on Tequila Friday Night.

I want new towels. Mine are in tatters and good for maybe washing the dog, if that. They’re 18 years old, if that tells you anything. Maybe new towels should fall under need instead of want.

I need someone to help me fix and possibly expand my compost bin. I’ve gotten much more serious about the process lately; it’s a better use of leaves, coffee grounds, and eggshells than tossing them into the landfills. With the push to “go green,” I’m surprised more of my neighbors aren’t into it.

I want to eat something for dinner besides rice and beans. Nothing wrong with those, but enough already. You know it’s a problem when, rather than fantasizing about cabana boys and beaches and umbrella drinks, you fantasize about shrimp, asparagus, fish, goat cheese, pine nuts, and any other fresh vegetable or exotic foodstuff.

I need someone who knows how to rewire a floor lamp. Drop something on the base, and the bulb explodes. I’m going blind back here, working in the dark. Which is better – fire hazard or bi-focals?

I want to get the car’s air conditioner fixed. It freaks people out when I tell them I’ve gotten used to driving it in 90°F weather and find myself ok with that.

I need to get the car’s leaking head gasket fixed so it’ll stop dripping oil in the garage and I won’t have to worry about the engine anymore. I’ve got a guy monitoring the situation and he says he’s seen this make and model run forever with that problem and have no issues. Even so, in the middle of a road trip, you keep an uneasy eye out for the oil light.

I want wine and an assortment of alcoholic beverages in the house. Considering my lifestyle of the past six years, maybe that, too, should be classified as a need.

I need a boyfriend. Notice I didn’t say want one. Being scarred for life by the last relationship, if a guy so much as looked my way twice, I’d probably bolt like Bambi, over the hill and through the woods, never to be seen again until I was sure he was gone from my doorstep. But need one? I suppose. Someone to make sure I’m still alive at the end of the day and haven’t done something like left a candle burning or the stove on or the garage door open overnight. Not that I’ve ever done any of those things, of course.

This is just the short list.

I want/need all of this to happen soon.

missing

I know.

I’ve gone missing. I didn’t mean it to happen.

Here’s the thing. I’ve been both single and alone for six Thanksgivings, seven Christmases, and seven birthdays. All occasions you’d really like to have friendly people around you, yes? [Note, I said friendly people. Not evil, energy-draining, soul-sucking narcissists or self-centered prima donnas whose only purpose in life is to make you as miserable as they are.] That’s 20 days. Spread those events out over time, take them one by one, they’re mentally manageable. Compressed into five or six weeks, they form the perfect trifecta of Holiday Hell. [Yes, I’m a December child.]

Hearing anyone complain about how busy (s)he was with shopping and relatives and dinners and parties and OMG-please-don’t-make-me-have-another-birthday made me want to shake (s)he senseless. I would love to have those problems to complain about. You can bet, having benefit of the opposite perspective, once I do, I won’t. Bitch, that is.

Of all those single special days, I’ve only spent maybe four of them with other human life forms. The first few years, I didn’t mind so much. It was a post-divorce adjustment period. I mind now. It’s been too long, and my other interminable “situation” doesn’t help matters or my mood. Add all this stress together and I have little energy left for creativity. Besides writing, I wanted to do a painting last month, but every shred of my being is focused on making sure I can still breathe. Every day, I wake up, check to see if I’m still alive, and start dog paddling again.  So many days I feel like I’m drowning.

Exacerbating the stress are the several folks who still have their hands in my pockets (“Surely she must have something left we can take.”). I feel like they’re put stones in my pockets, hastening my sink rate. Even in the season of dreams and magic, they have no conscience.

After this last Thanksgiving, I said No More, and Christmas went much better. I hope the New Year will be even more so. Something has to change. I have had enough, already.