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Today's Keyboard Smash
Oct. 27th, 2020 05:02 pmHuh. Gift. I have received snack-based gift. This place is wild. They called for us to go to a meeting in small groups, which turned out to just be a distribution of mugs full of drink mixes and cookies and things of that nature. The mug is emblazoned with the name of one of the jobs that had been running the past few months, on which I had worked along with many others. Apparently the ultimate product met with great approval, therefore treats.
The wild thing is that, of all the jobs I've worked on in the last, jeez, year? That one--which actually consisted of multiple different products and two departments--was one of the least fraught. Large and somewhat complex, yes, but not cursed. So it feels a bit weird to be rather extravagantly thanked for such an inoffensive assignment.
Still. There's a small cinnamon roll on a stick in there that is destined for my face shortly. So that's alright.
In related news, one of my preferred coworkers lightly cornered me while we went to break following the "meeting," and asked if it was true I had a degree. I blinked for a good while, because yes, but also, huh? I haven't made any particular fuss about having a degree but it's also not a secret. I suppose it IS somewhat unusual in this line of work--the underlying implication being, what the hell am I do here if I managed to go to college? Coworker gets full points for immediately asking if I write; almost everyone asks if I wanted to be a teacher, which provokes scornful laughter from me.
All this led to a peculiar conversation, me on the couch and coworker standing, about the publishing experience. It was...nice, actually. This coworker doesn't pry in ways that would make me uncomfortable, so I don't mind sharing a bit. This coworker also has significant social anxiety, which is probably why we get along swimmingly.
This is only the second person at the job that I've told about my writing (other preferred coworker being the first one). I very specifically don't share that information in the workplace. People get all weird and invasive. I usually pick some other interest of mine to make My Thing. At the last place, it was crafting. Here, it's been gardening. It's not that I don't have my heart in those things as well. But no one feels the need to demand a tour of my garden, you know? But people feel perfectly fine demanding to read my writing, and, well. Let's keep some division of life spheres here, people. You get 40+ hours of my life every week. Don't get greedy.
(I secretly hope this preferred coworker has fannish tendencies--they at least like some of the same video games I do--which makes me favorably inclined when I otherwise would not be.)
The wild thing is that, of all the jobs I've worked on in the last, jeez, year? That one--which actually consisted of multiple different products and two departments--was one of the least fraught. Large and somewhat complex, yes, but not cursed. So it feels a bit weird to be rather extravagantly thanked for such an inoffensive assignment.
Still. There's a small cinnamon roll on a stick in there that is destined for my face shortly. So that's alright.
In related news, one of my preferred coworkers lightly cornered me while we went to break following the "meeting," and asked if it was true I had a degree. I blinked for a good while, because yes, but also, huh? I haven't made any particular fuss about having a degree but it's also not a secret. I suppose it IS somewhat unusual in this line of work--the underlying implication being, what the hell am I do here if I managed to go to college? Coworker gets full points for immediately asking if I write; almost everyone asks if I wanted to be a teacher, which provokes scornful laughter from me.
All this led to a peculiar conversation, me on the couch and coworker standing, about the publishing experience. It was...nice, actually. This coworker doesn't pry in ways that would make me uncomfortable, so I don't mind sharing a bit. This coworker also has significant social anxiety, which is probably why we get along swimmingly.
This is only the second person at the job that I've told about my writing (other preferred coworker being the first one). I very specifically don't share that information in the workplace. People get all weird and invasive. I usually pick some other interest of mine to make My Thing. At the last place, it was crafting. Here, it's been gardening. It's not that I don't have my heart in those things as well. But no one feels the need to demand a tour of my garden, you know? But people feel perfectly fine demanding to read my writing, and, well. Let's keep some division of life spheres here, people. You get 40+ hours of my life every week. Don't get greedy.
(I secretly hope this preferred coworker has fannish tendencies--they at least like some of the same video games I do--which makes me favorably inclined when I otherwise would not be.)
