Goodbye for Now

Dear Readers,

It is with mixed emotions that I take a hiatus from this blog.

I have thoroughly enjoyed writing "Corporate Joe in cubicle land" but I'm afraid this blog has kept me from my true love. What began as a casual hobby has taken up more time than I originally anticipated.

I am taking a four month break to focus all of my writing efforts towards finishing my third screenplay. Right now I'm about 1/3 of the way through and I have to converge all of my energy towards completion. This means my near future holds late nights in my basement devising plot points, character arcs, and finding scenes for product placement and gratuitous nudity.

There will be a few moments of joy when the final product is ready for submission. I'll have delusions of grandeur about people watching my film on the silver screen, acceptance speeches, and owning a Toyota Prius to stop the glaciers from melting. This joy will quickly be replaced with despair when a producer on the fringe of the industry tells me my story is "sophomoric", "predictable", and "perfect for Tina Yothers". Eventually, my 110 page document will be used as a coaster by a location assistant in the soft-porn industry who lives in La Mirada.

For those of you who are curious, the subject matter of my screenplay is the same information in my blog. It's all about Corporate America and the story involves an ageing CEO, a newbie, and their reluctant alliance to challenge a corporation. Think "Pippi Longstocking" meets "Full Metal Jacket" with a touch of "8 1/2". Yeah, I know, it's gonna' be good.

In all seriousness, I am a believer in pursuing your dreams. And I do dream that one day my screenplay will be picked up. We attract what we believe, and I believe it will happen. It's a longshot for every screenwriter. Except for Joe Ezterhas, that guy was money.

Sorry about that last paragraph. Tony Robbins got a hold of my keyboard. I'm surprised he could even type. His hands are freakishly large.

You can do it, Corporate Joe!
That'll be $500.

I do want to take the time to thank everyone for the encouragement, flattering comments, and even the occasional criticism. I appreciate all who have taken a few minutes out of their day to read the stories that I have put effort into writing. It's nice to know that I have an audience. And it doesn't bother me that my audience is very small compared to the majority of blogs that are out there. I actually take comfort in knowing my message isn't diluted for the masses. And that I'm too lazy to advertise my own blog.

I'll be back with a vengeance in June of this year. There are plenty of stories left to write about concerning the day-to-day drudgery of 9 to 5 life. In the meantime, if you would like to be on my distribution list (for when I return in June) please send me your email address to cubicle.land@gmail.com. I'll be happy to add you. My emails usually have a bit of humor in them also. The more the merrier.

For now, take care and I'll see you in June.

Sincerely,

Corporate Joe in cubicle land.

Oh, The Places You'll Stay

B.F. Skinner was an American psychologist who believed that if science was able to psychologically dissect human behavior down to the molecular level then every future human action could be predicted. The sobering part of this behavioral theory is that free will is an illusion. We have no choice in what we take in our coffee, what time we go to bed, and how long we keep watching a "Diff'rent Strokes" marathon on TV Land.

Wha'choo talking about B.F. Skinner?

After reading over my company's current goal-setting matrix for future performance, I'm beginning to think our executives are big fans of B.F. Skinner's school of thought.

This year our company has given us the unique opportunity to create our own careers. We actually get to choose our goals. Employees can take the corporate journey on their own terms. We can go only as far as the limitations we impose on ourselves. May the force be with you, NaNoo NaNoo, and all that other shit.

Orson, these humans are crazier than shithouse rats.

So let's begin...

The first thing I realize is that my future career is quarantined by my current capabilities. As long as my career dovetails with my experience and business line, the sky is the limit. This makes sense. If I was hired to be a consultant in let's say, writing code for Homeland Security, then my company wouldn't want me spending my days writing for a blog. OK, bad example, but you get the point. The corporation would want my work to speak to my expertise and vice-versa.

Mental note, keep goals that speak to my skillset.

Now before I can go crazy with my goals I am politely reminded within our performance database that goals are preassigned by position and level. That makes sense. You can't create subpar goals for yourself and expect to succeed. Conversely, you can't expect a new hire to be operating at the same level as the CEO.

Mental note, set reasonable and achievable goals that speak to my skillset.

Metrics are pre-populated. Hmm, options are dwindling. The metrics detail the amount of chargeability that is expected of me. They also list how much money I should bring in for the company, and the necessary training I need to complete in order to remain compliant with corporate standards. These metrics are based on my current position and skillset.

Mental note, adhere to pre-determined metrics and set reasonable and achievable goals that speak to my skillset.

Here's the section I've been waiting for. Individual goals. Sweet freedom! Time to let it rip and shoot for the stars. Oh, the places I'll go. Oh, the fine print. Let's see, "goals should be linked directly to your business line and sector". Alright, so basically my individual goals are what I'm already doing. I have about as much freedom as a prisoner on furlough.

The sky's the limit! Scratch that.
According to our monitor, your cubicle and the restrooms are the limit.

Mental note, just get back to work. Not because I have to but because I want to. That's right, SSSSSSS, burn on you executives. I'm here by choice, man.

Well, Come to the Dollhouse

Every 14 months Senior Management gets an itch to juggle their personnel. In corporate jargon it's called a "re-organization". In layman's term it's called "f*cking shit up". A reorganization is the leveraging of available skillsets with projected business needs to fully optimize the potential of a company. Sounds fancy, doesn't it? In reality, it is the opportunity for Senior Management to play with their dollhouse in the belief that they are building a better Weeble home.

I'm Jack, please keep me.

I'm Jane. Please fire Jack.

He wears that red shirt every day and refuses to leave his wife.

The first step involves business theory among the executives. They not only lock themselves away in their inviolable* conference room but also from the day-to-day operations of the very business they are restructuring. These intense meetings are filled with trays from catering service and mind-numbing PowerPoint presentations. The brainstorming is electrified by ideas that are conceived from the intellectual seeds of grown men who weren't laid until their early 30's. From this process, the reorganization begins to take shape.

The second signature step of a reorganization is creating a rumor that is thrust into the ether by Senior Management. This rumor of a reorganization grows exponentially until it is squashed with feigned disgust several weeks later by the same individuals who perpetrated it. This allows Senior Management to read the initial reaction of the masses and buy time on how they'll drop the real bomb.

The long conference room hours pay off. A reorganization idea is officially born, cradled by Senior Management, and passed around the room to all the proud parents. All the tension from grinding out the work dissolves once birth is given. It is the very moment that Senior Management recognizes their own power by designing a plan that guarantees them job security. They know that Weebles wobble but they don't fall down.

Cigars are lit and Martinis flow at an unofficial happy hour. Nirvana is felt by all and also happens to be playing on the dilapidated jukebox. As "Lithium" blares from the foam covered speakers they all reminisce to a time when they weren't getting laid. Reassuring nods are given and nervous joy is felt prior to the release of the news. Senior Management is so proud of their newborn. This baby is really going to change things.

He's an angel when he sleeps.

The workforce receives the news regarding the birth of the monster. Chaos will reign due to its entry into their corporation. The intellectual fetus is grotesque and will devour salaries and bonuses with its insatiable appetite for overhead.

I'm up. Tommy want wingy!

Senior Management is disturbed and upset by the initial reception. How can this be? We love this idea. We'll be stronger in our core skillset. We'll have more flexibility to react to the marketplace. We'll have increased salaries while yours will decrease. What is wrong with you people?

Senior Management is disgusted with how the reorganization is being implemented. Their initial vision has become a harsh reality of disgruntled workers. The workers push, "What about our jobs?" Senior Management pushes back, "It's not an option, it's a mandate."

The newborn has entered into a hostile world that is not ready to accept the reality it represents. A counterattack ensues by the workforce that involves jobsearch engines, longer lunches, and offline conversations. This Weeble is wobbling and it might fall down.

All the qualified workers that were unimpressed with the newborn make a mass exodus for similar industries that involve higher pay and less responsibility. The dust settles on the reorganization and all that remains are employees who were either a) too lazy to find a new job or b) unqualified to find a new job. Senior Management is left with the weakest links in every facet of their company.

New personnel is hired from competitors. These employees are in their own personal exodus from their company that is in the midst of a reorganization not favorable to their careers. Senior Management has now found individuals who are onboard with their message, their goal, their vision.

The new team is in place, but just like that, it's 14 months later and the marketplace has changed. Priorities have been re-prioritized, the portfolio of the business requires different skillsets, and different workers. This Weeble has wobbled and it has fallen down.

Senior Management rebuilds the foundation of their dollhouse. With selective amnesia they remember all the promise of their last reorganization. Bloated with blind hope, they lock themselves away in their conference room and line up all the Weebles for another round.

*Merriam-Webster's Online 10-point SAT "Word of the Day", bee-otch.