Yet another reorg. And a slow drawn out one at that. I know some things, I definitely don’t know other things and I have some completely contradictory information.
And it’s just shuffling pieces as everyone who can read the tea leaves knows there will be a RIF and a year or so. One of my best people just gave notice and I wouldn’t even try to keep him.
And on top of all that, the “new” company has started these “Profiles in Leadership” communications and the President/CEO had a puff piece filled with (IMHO) pretty basic stuff. But amongst the “casual” pictures was one of him with the Orange Buffoon at Mar-A-Lago.
Sure, you know intellectually that heads of companies rub elbows with these types of people, but I’m seriously thinking of starting to look for another job now.
Staying up all night to record lectures due to dual hurricane. Either students will watch these this week, to hopefully not lose a whole week of class, or next (at a loss of a whole week of class, in case this hurricane is that bad).
It’s very rare that a celebrity of any stripe can get away with hiding cancer, though. The one person I think of who did it for about ten years was Jacqueline Susann.
Thanks. It will be fine. But it’s just the constant grind of having any time to focus on work in this pandemic … and then something else takes it away.
And their sense of normalcy! My kids go to two days of school, then another disaster. How can they feel safe?
This is what came to mind when you mentioned your kids:
It’s so…WEIRD in my neighborhood…like nothing’s changed, really. Well, the people on the corner aren’t flying a current POTUS/VPOTUS flag at their business across the street; the asshole neighbor is still an asshole and having gatherings of more then ten folks, no social distancing and no masks (he drunkenly bragged about being the next Medea - remember, he’s Hmong); the only thing I’m really noticing is lots of high-speed cycles are being driven on M-97, the main drag about a quarter-mile west of me, in the middle of the night.
Street racing is back, I guess. Kind of third or fourth priority in Portland right now. Fourth I guess. Getting Rump the fuck out is one, though that won’t stop the proud boy dumbshits.
A bunch of us who were pregnant during 9/11 have talked about this a number of times. That grade (mostly born late 2001-early 2002) just seemed to have more issues, from the start through high school.