thisiskindaboring

I’m taking a much-needed break from work for a few minutes to reflect. At the end of March, I took a ½ day off from my last consulting position to drive up to the Bay Area so I could start a new consulting job the next day. The people who interviewed me over the phone for this position let me know the project was… in trouble.

Typical. I love the problem-child projects. Anyway, I set their expectations pretty low on how much my involvement would help at such a late stage in the process. And then I jumped in, knowing exactly what I was getting into.

Ha. This job has been hard. Pretty much the toughest project I’ve worked on in my career. But I really did know that I would be challenging myself to do the impossible this time. We just launched a software tool to the company last week and it hasn’t blown up yet. Good sign. Very good.

I was just looking over what I need to do so I can transfer my work back to the project team at the end of next week before I get outta here and I laughed out loud. Like lol, laughing, you know?

I wrote detailed training materials for a system I’ve never used. I put presentations together, detailing processes as they used to be and as they will be in the future. For processes that I have never been a part of and don’t quite understand. I managed to track down and communicate with over a thousand staff members in 12 time zones, many the project team didn’t even know existed. I wrote 3 nice things about everyone who helped with the project, never having met 80% of them.

Today, I took a walking tour of some ghetto neighborhood in search of helium balloons and streamers. I found balloons (no helium), streamers, every strip club in San Francisco, and a club dedicated to Jack Kerouac. Then, I partied (well, had lunch with) the CIO.

I should have some down time after next week. I think my next job is starting the second week of June. Maybe I’ll take my tent and sleeping bag and my dog out to the river and camp for awhile. Also, a banjo. Yeah. Definitely need a banjo.

hoho be jooba

I hear lyrics wrong sometimes. I always thought that, at one point in "The Jeffersons" (a rad show from when I was a kid) theme song, the singer says: Hoho be joba. Which makes no sense, but it didn't stop me from DEMANDING to my friends that this is what she was singing.

Turns out, it was a very intense "movin on up". Not "hoho be joba".

I feel wronged by my childhood, somehow.

At any rate, I am movin on up. Tomorrow. Shit. I haven't packed all of my clothes. SHIT.

I'm moving to Northern California afterall. To the Bay Area. To a house with 2 wild/crazy/awesome ladies who I adore.

I start a new contract job on Thursday. It's going to be a bit different from what I'm used to, but I'm into learning stuff along the way while I pretend to be an expert in what I'm doing.

What a week. I hope my dog reacts well to being in a new place with new people. I mean- he's been there before. He knows the people. He loves the people. He digs hanging out with the other dog in the house.

I hope I react well to being in such a lively environment. What am I saying- I live in a very lively household. Never a dull moment. Not that big of a deal.

Hoho be joba.

Strangers and Hugs

Last night, I hugged a homeless crack head on the sidewalk in Oakland late at night.

I had been drinking a tiny bit inside the bar with a couple of friends when I needed some fresh air (I lie. I was smoking. Wasted drunk and smoking to be very clear.), so I stepped outside and the bouncer followed me.

This homeless dude came up to me and asked if I could spare any money. I was like- all I have is this iPhone, this cigarette, and this lighter. But then I checked my pocket and had TWO DOLLARS! I passed it over to the man and wished him a good night.

The bouncer who was guarding me shook his head. He asked where I'm from. Obviously not a local, huh? I was being a bit too sweet to the crackhead homeless dudes for his taste.

To make his job of guarding me more difficult, another homeless crackhead came over and asked me for money. (Oakland is kind of ghetto in most areas, by the way) I told this new guy that I had just given ALL of my TWO DOLLARS away to the last guy. But then I said- you know what?

I'll give you a hug instead of money. Every homeless crackhead needs a hug, you know? So I shocked the living hell out of this fellow and hugged and told him I hope he gets better and that he finds a meal tonight. And he asked me if he could finish my cigarette. I handed it to him and went inside with Mr. Bouncer.

He came over to where I sat down with my friends and told me I need to be careful- that these guys have scabies. I didn't notice any scabies on my crackhead friend, but I did appreciate the bouncer's concern, so I asked him if I should go to the hospital. He didn't think I'd need to do that, but recommended that I don't hug any more of these guys.

It's not like I go around hugging ALL of the homeless crackheads in the Bay Area. I mostly just high five them. Duh.