It's Never Final

I don't think I've ever seen a comic that better defines what my job looks like as I approach production time for a proposal. Even if I call each person individually to verify that they have no changes on the draft, as soon as I send the final out, I start getting emails, "Oh, hey, I know it's due in two hours, but maybe we can schedule a call in half an hour to discuss adding one paragraph to Section 5 that is essentially a duplicate to what you put in Section 2, and I want you to change the spacing in the middle of the graphic that I sent you that you don't have an original for and that was made by my former colleague's second cousins brother's uncle."

PhD Comics: notFinal.doc

Proposal Page Limitations

http://www.bindertek.com/custom-tabs-and-templates.html

I used to hate when RFPs provided page limitations, font sizes, and margin restrictions. Subject matter experts often want to add more information, and with page limitations, we always have to leave something out.
As a proposal writer, organizer, manager, coordinator, and all around "person in charge of proposals," my job is to rein them in. I keep track of not just how many pages are written, but I make sure we have answered all questions completely, written towards the evaluation standards, and the final product fits the restrictions. So page limits drove me crazy.
Then it happened. One day, I began to wish for page limitations! There were no limitations on pages in the proposal, the RFP (Request for Proposal) required massive amounts of information, and they wanted ten copies of the document delivered. There I was searching out binders that would hold 1,000 pages each to fit the technical proposal, and I also had to include the cost proposals as separate documents. The subject matter experts went wild. I couldn't rein them in, and they wanted to provide more information. Heck, they had to provide more information because the questions were so in-depth that each section required dozens, sometimes even hundreds, of pages.

http://www.empireimports.com/filebox.html

Delivering the sealed package required a hand truck and two large boxes; each box reached my upper thigh (I'm 5'2"). We were the first organization to get our proposal in, and the reception desk was shocked. The receptionist rolled their eyes like we were crazy but signed us in. As they were handing over our receipt, the next organization showed up with their delivery. It was as large as ours. These questions could not have been written with small page requirements, so we had to go all out. The next organization came rolling in on the heels of the next one. That organization only had one box. Nobody in the Purchasing Department had realized what they'd done by asking such in-depth questions.
Now I look forward to those required page limitations. It might be extremely difficult to stay within the requirements, but it's a challenge. I am forced into brevity. I have to remove extraneous text! I comb my work pulling out every unnecessary word. "In order to provide..." is ridiculous! "To provide..." takes up less space, removes unnecessary speech, and provides a more succinct document. "We believe we are the very best company for the job," is ludicrous. If we didn't think we were the best company for the job, why would we put in the hard work to submit a bid? Also, if we are the best, adding a descriptor to the adjective (very best) doesn't do us justice. Remove the extra text and instead write, "We are the best company for the job because..." that will add words to the text while providing real information!
College did not adequately prepare me for business writing. We were told that we had to write a specific number of pages, and when I put together papers, I would work hard to respond to write the best possible paper. Finishing a well written 97-page paper and having to add in three pages of text was heartbreaking. I'd add filler, stick in a few more quotes, and I'd be miserable because I put so much work into creating an excellent document only to be told I needed to reach the page requirement. I would have been better prepared for the working world if I'd been told to fully respond to the assignment with no more than 100 pages. Besides, if I'd written 150 pages for my "at least 100 pages" assignment, the teacher would have had to slog through 50 more pages to grade me!
When I have a 100 page requirement for an RFP, the government enjoys receiving only 97 pages. They want information, they want it presented in an easy to read format, and they want to have to read as little as possible. Per an air force CO, proposal reviewers spend approximately 45 seconds on each page. At that rate cutting out three pages will only save them 1.5 minutes, but it will also give them a document that was able to clearly express everything needed without any extra filler or fluff. Without playing with font sizes or margins.
The important thing to remember is that you have to respond completely and fully to each question, and it's a challenge. That's why companies hire me. I am up to that challenge!

PS: I really wanted to include a photo of a submission that my last company subbed for. The federal government required 21 copies, there were multiple binders, and it took a full pick-up truck to hold the entire shipment that had to go from TX to DC!

Paying for "human giving"

I'm tired of the idea that people (i.e., women) should do good things for the sake of doing good. The idea that you can't put a dollar amount on the desire to help is a load of horse manure. Social workers, teachers, nurses, and other fields that have been female-dominated are all said to be staffed by people who care. People whose concern for the well being of others trumps their need for monetary gain. Nurturers, direct service professionals, nursing home aides. These are viewed as people who are giving out of the goodness of their hearts, money be damned! 

The worst part?

It's true. So many of these individuals in these professions are seen as altruistic if they stoically go through their day, exhausted after working with yet another traumatized individual, helping yet another person deal with physical pain, chasing yet another group of kids around. After all, they are doing it for the good of mankind. 

People talk about the good people in these professions do - they help people learn and grow, they make real changes in the world on an individual level - until the person points out that they can't afford to feed their family, that their own kids don't get enough time with them because they're too busy with other people's children, that they are exhausted and ready to quit.

"Oh no! Don't quit! You're doing real good in the world!"

Ok, then how about compensating them for the value of what they do, prove that we respect what they do and that what they do matters?

Nope. We can't do that because then people will just do it for the money!

I call bullshit. If social worker jobs paid better, more people would, indeed, go into, stay in, or go back to being social workers. However, people who couldn't handle these professions? They're not going to jump on the bandwagon saying, "OH!!!!  Look!!!  They're making $50k per year, I wanna join them!" These are not glamorous jobs. They are painful, exhausting, and dangerous. Oh, they are also rewarding for people who want to be there, but the reality is that teachers get puked on, social workers get lashed out at, nurses watch people die, direct service professionals get shot.

No, I'd never survive as a teacher. I would have no idea what to do as a social worker when sitting with a five year old child who's been severely traumatized. I'd probably pass out if I had to stick my hands in someone's guts to hold them from falling out.

The only thing that paying people for doing these jobs will fix is the idea that doing good is worthless.

Clarity Trumps Snobbery

Several years ago I was a writing tutor at the writing center of a university. I was horrified to learn that my job was not to help people learn how to avoid grammar errors. The sole purpose of my job was to assist students in learning to communicate clearly; grammar corrections were to be avoided unless there were regular problems distracting from the student clearly communicating.

Gee, what a thing to be proud of.

The Office Killed My Dreams of Romance

Corporate rules exist to kill my dreams. My whole life I've dreamed that someone would hand deliver flowers to my desk at work. I've received flower deliveries, and once the most romantic cup of tea ever was hand delivered to my desk. But never flowers.

The first floor of what was once an entire building of offices is now being opened for retail businesses. So to ensure office safety, they're putting a security guard by the elevator and locking things down. All visitors need to be reported to the receptionist a day in advance, or if we have last minute visitors, we have to notify the front desk so that the receptionist can make arrangements with the guard.

Now I will never look up from my desk as some wonderfully romantic individual hand delivers me flowers. Sure, I know it's a stupid thing to dream of anyway, but I can't seem to convince that thirteen year old in the back of my head that it's irrelevant and based on an unrealistic idealization that not only doesn't exist bust isn't necessary. Nor can I get her to understand that I'd probably die of embarrassment if it ever happened.

Preschool Teachers are Insane

I think preschool teachers are absolutely fucking insane. The work they do for the money they make? I wouldn't survive a week in a daycare. I can't think of a dollar amount that you could pay me that would be enough to attempt to do all the work that preschool teachers do, and they do it without taping the children's mouth shut, tying them to the chairs, or essentially violating any other child abuse and basic human decency laws.

You'd think that people automatically assuming that preschool teachers are "too dumb" to teach older kids wouldn't surprise me, but it does. Has anybody looked at what preschooler teachers do? They have to be experts on every topic because you never know what a three year old is going to want to know about.

It's important to know how individual children are learning from an early age, so preschool teachers have to be able to perform assessments on the kids in their care and  evaluate their learning level and abilities. They need to catch any "early warning" signs that a child might need extra or different help.  The preschool teachers evaluate learning levels and abilities, and they sometimes work with children whose parents refuse to acknowledge or accept that a child would benefit from a different style of learning.

Preschool teachers work with children who are in some cases just barely able to talk. The ones who do talk are apt to jump from topic to topic faster than I can follow, and I generally jump topics every few sentences. I live next to a preschooler and a toddler, and I rarely know what they're telling me. The oldest will say they went to the park and the youngest will say something that appears to be, "tew98afs  oasdoiwer," while I stare at the grandparents asking for translations. The grandparents say, "We usually don't know what he's saying," the older sister says, "I know!  I love the slide, too!" The preschool teacher spent all day with the kids and would already know about the trip to the park and be able to understand what the preschooler was communicating. Preschool teachers work with the children from the time they are little, so they learn their personality and non-verbal cues as well as their verbal abilities. Even when a child is verbal, they might not be coherent. If you think a crying adult is difficult to understand, listen to a three year old sobbing and panting and attempting to tell you what's wrong!.

Preschool teachers provide all this individualized attention while tracking an entire classroom of little kids. Preschool teachers skip personal bathroom breaks and might manage to scarf some food down during lunchtime, but they're usually too busy making sure the youth in their care don't choke on their lunch. They're also busy keeping track of individualized notes from parents with specific instructions (for example, please tell me what time my child uses the bathroom and what the consistency of each movement is).


Preschool teachers are skilled at first aid, and yes, performing Heimlich on a three year old is very different than on an adult. They can fix booboos. They also track booboos, watch for physical, emotional, and behavioral signs of physical abuse, and sometimes cry their eyes out when they get home because they are mandated reporters and watched a child covered in filth and bruises go off with children's services while the police wait to arrest the parents at pick-up time.

Nothing that happens in your house is a surprise to the preschool teacher. Most children describe their home life in bizarre detail, and thankfully preschool teachers are the height of discretion (although perhaps giggling with their coworkers about the specific acrobatic feats you were accomplishing when your child walked in on you). Preschool teachers also field statements like, "Lift up your shirt and show me your boobies!" without lifting an eyebrow or assuming that the parents are deranged.

Preschool teachers make sure your children are aware that we play on the playground and pee in the bathroom. They clean up after children who have accidents or make messes, and there will be both in preschool - paint all over the floor?  No problem!  Pee all over your nap mat? Easy peasy! Many parents have difficulty getting their one or two children to lie down, but these preschool teachers get 20 children napping simultaneously every single day.

I'm sure you're aware that the toys at preschools need to be kept disinfected.  Do you think there's a disinfectant fairy who shows up?  Nope. The preschool teachers do it. They also spend their evenings on lesson plans. 

Oh, and like all other levels of teachers, they buy supplies for their classroom out of their own pocket, and they do it on a much lower salary.
Preschool teachers generally don't have health care or sick days, but they're constantly getting sick because mommy had to go to work and sent Johnny in with a stomach flu hoping that the school wouldn't notice all the projectile vomiting. When they stay home because they caught the stomach flu, again, they do it without pay. They get paid less than grammar school teachers. Heck, they are lucky if they get paid as much as the part-time softball coach at the junior high school.

You'll never convince me that people who are smart enough to do all of that, and do it for a salary that isn't a living wage, aren't bat shit crazy.

M&Ns

"I like to click"

The title is M&Ns, but I bet that now you're thinking about yummy milk chocolate in a hard shell that melts in your mouth, not in your hands!


Once upon a time, several years ago in the land of small town life I had a job as a receptionist. I worked with a woman who regularly explained why she had more and better experience than I did, why her typing was better. I typed over 110 wpm, had a college degree in business management, and had over 10 years of professional experience, had significant writing experience, and was computer savvy. She typed approximately 60 wpm, had a one-year secretarial school degree received in the late 60s, sent out professional letters for high-up muckety-mucks with significant grammar problems, and couldn't figure out how to use her computer but was a whiz on a typewriter.

She was higher on the food chain than I was, so I had to defer all issues to her (although I regularly snuck onto the server to correct her grammar mistakes before she could send out badly written letters). This became pretty tiring, so I decided I had to do something small to make myself feel better.

I was planning a two-week vacation during which she and other coworkers would need to spend some time sitting at my desk (as the receptionist I answered the phone and handled all walk-ins), so I decided to do something very small. I assumed that many people wouldn't even notice it, and if they did it would only take a few minutes for them to figure out how to fix it.

I popped off the m and n key on my keyboard and switched them so that the m key was on the left and the n key was on the right.Here's the thing, I just had to look down at my keyboard to see whether the m goes on the left or the right.  I'm a trained touch typist. I have absolutely no idea where the keys on a keyboard are because it's all muscle memory. Ten years ago, my filthy keyboard was bothering me so I popped off all the keys to clean it then had to contact Soupkills for a picture of where all the keys go on the keyboard so I could reassemble it.

I went off on my two-week motorcycle tour through portions of New York and Pennsylvania, and when I returned the office was in an uproar. My little prank had brought the place to a complete standstill. Three different top tier secretarial staff members, a student worker, some of her friends, and even the boss had tried to figure out the problem. Nobody could figure out why pressing the M key brought up an N and vice versa. It didn't occur to anybody that the problem might be the keyboard. They assumed it was a software issue!

So they took the obvious solution and called IT. The IT person checked the keyboard configuration remotely based on their assumption that the problem was with the inside workings of the machine and not on the hardware. I'm assuming they checked if it was set-up to still use a QWERTY keyboard, looked to see if there had been any manual changes made, etc. They couldn't find anything wrong. What surprises me is that nobody in IT thought to ask about the keyboard itself.

IT made an appointment to send a person in to look at the computer later in the week, and in the meantime they let someone come over and borrow a laptop to use at my desk. When IT arrived several days later, they probably had a good (hidden) giggle because it wasn't until then that the switch had been discovered. IT popped the keys off, replaced them, explained the problem, and left.

With so many people going ballistic, I maintained my innocence and reminded them that when I started that job (a year earlier), I'd spent several hours cleaning my desk, keyboard, computer, and phone. I pointed out that I had actually popped several keys off the keyboard to remove the previous receptionist's hair because it was tangled around the undersides of the keys and making the letters stick (true story - but I'd put the keys back correctly).

I explained that as a touch typist I wouldn't have even noticed that the keys were switched, and I showed them that the keys were so worn that a lot of the letters were half-missing. Honestly, half the m was worn off, so it wasn't that different from the n anyway (the keyboard had lowercase letters on the keys).

Having had this experience, what I really want to know is what happened when somebody made the below passive aggressive key switch.

I hate when lists have one item per page, but this one is like that.  Sorry!

Let me know how long it takes you to figure out what's been done to the above, passive aggressive keyboard!

Ctrl Z, how did we live without it in the 80s?

Tomorrow is my last day of work, and I was supposed to go for lunch with my office mate, Woop Girl. We didn't get our long extended goodbye, but that's probably for the best. She did surprise me, though. I have been admiring a card she had on her bulletin board, and she gave it to me! I can't wait to get back to the North Country, paint my office, and hang this by my desk.

I'm so wanted!

I'm learning new things about freelancing every day.

1. The internet is amazing. It has allowed me to find clients from all over the world.

2.  The internet is a horrible thing. It has allowed me to find clients  from all over the world.

Today, I had clients on opposite sides of the world wanting to meet with me at exactly opposite times of the day, and I already had meetings scheduled at the midpoints with other clients. I had meetings scheduled almost every six hours today! I couldn't reschedule the meetings for other days because of the number of deadlines at the end of this week.

I managed to move the last meeting a bit earlier, and I'm on my way to bed now. Tomorrow morning, though, I have to get up early so I can call the east coast at 5:30 a.m. my time before attending another online meeting with a client. I am thinking of sleeping with my blinds open tonight so that the sun will be more helpful in waking me up tomorrow.

Let me know if you think it will work!

That being said, I'm glad that I have the opportunity to work for so many interesting people. I may be moaning about lack of sleep or spending hours locked in my apartment instead of interacting with folks, but lets be realistic. I am very happy with my jobs, and if my only problem is lack of human interaction, well, that was my own choice.

Besides, I can continue interacting with my in-home office equipment.

Hello there grammar book. I'm sorry I yelled at you the other day for not reminding me about my affect/effect problems. I shall call you Vladimir because I always have problems with that name, too.  Dear printer, you were so simple to set-up. I was so frightened of you that even thought I needed you desperately, you sat on the floor for three days, locked up in your box. You're so sleek and shiny, my little HP DeskJet 3050. You shall be DJ from now on. There is no need to name my computer. It's my Mac, and we are in love. Mac is already perfect. I already close the lid and stroke its aluminum beauty.