On hangovers

Hangovers suck. I remembered this in theory, but had forgotten in practice, because I don't drink much anymore. I have not really missed having alcohol in my life, but I have REALLY not missed being hungover.

Yesterday was our company holiday party. In a sure sign of the economic times (though an improvement upon last year's party cancellation), the celebration took place in the office. The company encouraged us to decorate our common areas and bring food, and provided us with an abundance of beer and wine.

I started out pretty slow with the wine, seeing as how I don't drink much anymore, but by the end the party—after the party, really—a core group of my co-workers and I put a serious dent in the surplus wine, as though letting it go unconsumed would be problematic somehow.

So my company morale may be up this morning, but the definite down side is this hangover. Consider me back on the wagon....

FYI

"The Twelve Days of Christmas" is about seven thousand times less obnoxious when you hear it performed by flutes and strings, without words.

Re: Cookie consumption

Note to self:
When you spend three hours baking shortbread cookies for the company holiday party, do not keep the final product within reach of your desk. Not only will you make yourself sick from shortbread gorging, but if there are no cookies left, you don't get to use the excuse that you baked them "for the party."

Professional largesse

Damn my habit of checking definitions in Web11, because it turns out "largesse" doesn't mean quite what I thought it did, but it's still the word I feel like using, so now I have to cope with the knowledge that I'm inaccurately wielding words. (Um, copyeditor, much?)

Anyway. On to the subject at hand: I have done two workplace-related things today that were assertive challenges and thus wanted to pat myself on the back via blog.

(1) My supervisor took me and the two other women I work with out to lunch today. It was an appreciated gesture, but outside-the-workplace co-worker interactions are hardly my speciality, particularly when supervisors are involved. We went to an upscale Mexican restaurant and it became clear early on that my three companions were all interested in ordering tacos. I, however, had my sights set on the prix fixe lunch special, which cost $8-$16 more than a taco plate. In the past I would have changed my order to be more in keeping with my peers, particularly since it was unclear as to whether my supervisor was spending her own money or company cash. But after some internal debate and the assertion of my worth I decided I really wanted the prix fixe meal and that regardless of who was paying, my supervisor owed me. I enjoyed every bite.

(2) I have spent the last couple of weeks laboring over a top-secret project that is being revealed this afternoon at a meeting I do not normally attend. Having put so much energy into the project, and knowing that its reception will likely be unfriendly, I really wanted to witness the presentation. In the past I would have ruled out the possibility immediately, but after mentally asserting the value of my contributions and the status I (believe I should) hold, I approached my dept. head and asked—tactfully, if you can believe it—whether my presence at the staff meeting might be beneficial. He confirmed my inner suspicion that it would not...but at least I asked.

In conclusion, while these acts of assertion may seem small—and perhaps they are—they are progress nonetheless and, therefore, yay for me!

My big mouth strikes again.

So I had the opportunity to spend lunchtime today listening to a very prominent publisher at my company talk about her extensive and varied career in the business.

I'm not entirely sure publishing is the right industry for me, but given that I've spent four years pretending so, I was receptive to her enthusiasm for the business and comforted by her confidence that young people can climb the ladder (despite not entirely knowing what the ladder looks like in these changing times) if we refuse to give up.

After the speech, my coworker and I lingered in a common area and quietly gossiped for a few minutes before heading downstairs. At least, at first we were quiet. But when my friend brought up the example of some of our colleagues, my boss included, who rank higher than us but who have been in stagnant positions for more than a decade (ie, decidedly NOT changing with the changing times), I lost my cool.

"Her ways are outdated!" I said in a voice far too loud for a common area on any floor of my building, particularly the elevator bank of the floor where the executives work. "And I am not getting promoted even though I have ideas! I am so FRUSTRATED!"

My coworker gave me a warning look and in my peripheral vision I saw the head of Human Resources. I fell silent, and, silently, the three of us got into an elevator. Longest 30-second ride of my life.

I mean, it's not the worst thing for him to know I'm dissatisfied. (If he even knows who I am, which he probably doesn't, although he did personally interview me when I transferred to my current department. But that was two years ago.) And it's not like I was *directly* talking shit about my boss. Just dissing her work methods and saying I could do her job better.

No biggie, right?

I understand why some people label their food in the office refrigerator. But this morning I noticed that the Post-it atop someone's yogurt listed not only their initials, but also their phone extension.

Why in the world would we need to know how to contact the yogurt owner?

"Hi, is this JF at x7642? I wanted to let you know I'm eating your breakfast right now. It's delicious."