 mzalen, Sat, August 16th, 2008 Ten years ago I was working in a nice, artificially lit office in Washington D.C. It was a small company, with not more than two dozen employees, and it was located in an upscale part of town. I’d get in around 8:00 a.m., sit at my desk, pound away at the keyboard until noon, go downstairs to the food court, bring my food back to my computer, and then continue working until leaving for home at around 7:00 p.m. If I remember right, the commute was about an hour, so by the time I finally got to my apartment I was starving. Lucky for me, I didn’t know how to cook, so I always had a healthy supply of store-bought pre-made food. Normally I’d grab whatever was closest when I opened the freezer and shove it in the oven for the minimum amount of time necessary before it was safe to eat. Then I’d spill out the contents onto a plate, grab a napkin, skip the fork and knife (hence the need for the napkin), and jump onto the couch. I’d sit there for the next few hours, inevitably falling asleep, but eventually waking to find that it was too late to do anything else because I had to get ready for work in just a few more hours. So I’d go to my room, lay down in my bed, and wait for the alarm. And so the routine went. Needless to say, it didn’t last very long. About eight months after I started that job, something began to happen. It started small, with minor changes in my behavior here and there, but it slowly grew into what I can only describe as a massive negative chain-reaction against all things work-related. First to go were my business-casual button shirts. I just couldn’t be bothered twisting those stupid buttons into place every morning. And since I had a ready supply of tee-shirts, I figured why waste? Next were the matching slacks; after all, you can’t very well wear tee-shirts with slacks. They had to be replaced with jeans. And finally, my workspace. Until that point I had prided myself on keeping my cubicle area distraction free. Well no more. My desk became a carnival of music, books, and cartoons, and I quickly learned the benefit of working with a perpetual sugar high. Around the time I started coming to work wearing shorts, sandals, headphones and popping Mike & Ikes in my mouth was about the same time that my co-workers started to take notice. Eventually my manager decided to act. One day she interrupted my musical trance by shoving an enlarged print-out of our client in front of my face. “What’s this?” I asked her. “That is our client,” she responded. “Why don’t you hang that up on the cubicle wall behind your monitor as inspiration.” I did what she said, and sat there staring at the picture for a bit after she left. My client, hanging on the wall behind my monitor, stared back. He was now the all-seeing God force which would move me into action, and I was now officially living in the book of 1984. The picture of my tyrant client ruled me. Tyrant. Whether my manager genuinely felt her action would motivate me into a more professional manner I still don’t know. If that was the case, it had the opposite effect. While I sat there staring, I realized that my tyrant client might get lonely hanging on the cubicle wall all by himself. So I decided to print out some more pictures to keep him company. One week later, my “Wall of Tyrants” was complete, with my client in the center, flanked by Stalin and Mussolini. Soon thereafter my career as a computer consultant came to an end. Oddly enough, I didn’t actually get fired, but had I stayed I’m pretty sure that would’ve happened eventually. Now why am I telling you all this? What’s the point? Well, to be honest, there isn’t one. It’s just the memory came back to me during a conversation I recently had with a newspaper editor, and I felt like sharing it. You see, we were talking about the average career of a cartoonist, and how most people in the business really only last a few years before their work starts to deteriorate. So it got me thinking, what’s going to happen to me? But I suppose I shouldn’t worry. After all, if my past experience is any indicator of what I can expect when I start burning out as a cartoonist, then I have something to look forward to because those comics will be hilarious. CATEGORY: General Society
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