overwhelmed by farewell luncheons
Wednesday, October 25 2000
My erstwhile boss Linda had me take a "the famous theSpark.com personality test" today to see what kind of person I am. (Perhaps she should have done this as part of the interview process before she hired me back in March.) TheSpark test is sort of like the infamous Meyers-Briggs personality test, but it seems to go a lot faster and the questions seem to dig a little deeper into the subconscious. There are 16 different personality types, and it turns out that I'm something called an "Experimenter," because I'm a Dominant Introverted Abstract Thinker (as opposed to a Submissive Extroverted Concrete Feeler). I have 98% compatibility with Linda, which is pretty high, but (joy of joys!) I have 100% compatibility with Molly Zero, the girl with whom I'm currently having an unrequited internet love affair. It's an unrequited internet love that was Meant To Be.
Nancy Firedrake (with whom I'm also 100% compatible) sent me an amusing URL today. Folks, it's about time we Dressed-Up Jesus. What a brilliantly clever idea!
At work, let's just say that I'm having a miserable time. I seem to be suffering from a number of white collar occupational malaises, especially imposter syndrome. The project I've been assigned, to lead a team to create a text-content-driven UK version of the site, is incomprehensibly vast and largely uncharted. It seems I was given this assignment because of my proven ability to thrive in the absence of technical specifications and documentation. However, in this particular case, I don't get the luxury of working in my usual highly-successful insular manner, which consists of making guesses as to what needs to be done and implementing them myself, tweaking them as necessary. There's far too much work. I have to make guesses and then make other people implement my guesses. During a meeting with my UK team today (ostensibly to divide up the work), I realized we didn't know enough about what we were doing even to know how to break it up. We were sitting ourside on the patio at a picnic table, an uncomfortably hot Southern California sun slowly scorching my monitor-tanned face. As the meeting pushed fruitlessly beyond noon, I felt my blood sugar ebbing away. I wanted to just bolt up, scream an existential scream, and run fleeing from the building, never to return.
I was saved by my erstwhile boss Linda waving at me through the window. Since today marks the beginning of her last week as my co-worker, I had arranged to attend her farewell lunch at the Lazy Daisy. People are dropping like flies around here. It's looking increasingly likely that in a couple weeks I'll be the sole remaining member of my old Community Team. Everyone else on that team has either quit or been fired. I'm being overwhelmed by farewell luncheons.
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