As much as I bitch and complain about the Apple OS, let’s not forget that I have to support their chief rival’s abortion in the corporate environment—and Windows is still far. and. away. a more fucked up system than macOS or OS X or whatever the hell the brain trust in Cupertino wants to call it these days could ever be.
The latest bit of banging-my-head-against-the-wall comes from that delightful little error message above. It popped up today while I was trying to install a driver for a standalone thermal printer. First off who was the genius that wrote it? Somewhere, at some point in time, some asshole programmer must have thought, “Let’s write the most obscure error message possible.”
For those of you who have the displeasure of encountering this bit of fuckery on a Windows 10 box running in a corporate (domain) environment, the solution is actually rather simple, but annoying as hell. Trying to run the offending installer as a local admin didn’t work. Trying to run it with administrator rights didn’t work. Disabling UAC (we’re getting warmer, but still no cigar) was a suggested solution via the Google, but didn’t solve the problem either. What I ultimately discovered that it was some godforsaken issue with something in the Domain Group Policy and UAC. Simply disabling UAC on the local machine won’t fix the problem; and since I didn’t have rights to do anything with the the Domain’s Group Policy, the only way to make it work is to remove the device from the domain entirely in order for the software to install.
I now have this documented at work since apparently none of my coworkers have ever encountered it—with the current thorn-in-my-side (who already views and treats me as just an ignorant imaging tech and not a full-fledged desktop tech with more years of experience than she’s been alive) looking at me like an escapee from the Short Bus when I told her I had to remove the machine from the domain in order to install a printer driver.
About a week ago I was given notice that as of September 30th, my contract was finally coming to an end and it would be my absolute, absolute last day at my current place of employment. However, because I’d been told this so many times over the last eight months, I took it with a grain of salt and went on about my business, thinking, “Yeah, right.” This past Monday morning however, I received email from my recruiter confirming that after speaking with my boss, my time here was indeed coming to an end.
Yeah, I know I was making way less money than what I’d been prior to coming here and it was a constant reminder of how woefully under-employed I was, but for the most part—even with the multiple instances of stupid I have witnessed during my tenure—I have genuinely enjoyed working here and realized that I was going to miss my coworkers much more than I ever thought I would.
Even so, as much as the thought of having to go through a job search yet again (not to mention interviewing) left a pit in my stomach, I tried to remain positive. Firstly, since this was not a for-cause or a voluntary termination, securing Arizona Employment Benefits—as meager as they are—while I looked for work wouldn’t be met with the kind of resistance I got from DISH after I left there. Secondly, I tried to keep the attitude that everything happens for a reason, and this was happening now because it was time for me to move onto a new chapter in my professional life.
Well, wouldn’t you know as soon as I wrapped my head around that, accepted it, received a glowing Letter of Recommendation from my supervisor’s boss, and actually started looking forward to having some time off, everything changed.
My boss walked in late yesterday afternoon with a very serious look on his face and his cell phone glued to his ear. I didn’t know who he was talking to, but I overheard, “So this isn’t FTE? Okay, I’ll ask him how he feels about it.”
Next thing I know we were sitting in his office and I was being offered a job; not as an “Imaging Specialist” (my current title), but as a proper Desktop Tech. It would still be a contract position, but unlike my current gig, this one was open-ended and could potentially last years. (There’s a hiring freeze on right now for full-time employees; otherwise they’d offer to hire me outright.)
To be honest, my initial internal reaction—after seeing how things are done around here and dealing with some of the personalities I’d have to interact with on a daily basis as a Desktop Tech—was “Oh hell no!” But almost immediately I remembered this had also been my initial reaction to the offer of employment at Abrazo after contracting there those many years ago—and that resulted in some lifelong friendships being formed and the job itself ultimately becoming the one to which I compared all that followed.
I told my supervisor it sounded interesting, but frankly it would all come down to the money. I’d already applied at two other state agencies where I’d be making significantly more and he was aware of that, so he understood completely, saying that I’d have to discuss those specifics with his boss.
This morning when I arrived at work I sent an email off to the man holding the purse strings asking if we could meet sometime today. Not thirty seconds later my phone rang and the he said, “How about now?”
To sum up, after discussing everything and getting a ballpark salary estimate sometime later, I accepted the offer. My new title and pay grade takes effect Monday even though I’ll still be reporting to the same location and doing the same tasks I have been until they figure out exactly what they’re going to do with me. It still needs to be determined which facility I’ll be based at and who I’ll be paired with—requiring some personnel shuffling—but it looks like I’m set for the foreseeable future and I can finally exhale a bit…
I’m starting to believe that along with basic manners, civil discourse, and common courtesy, professionalism is going the way of the dinosaur in our society. I am amazed at the number of times over the past few years I have been praised for simply doing my job. Are companies really hiring such grossly unqualified and incompetent workers that the mere act of showing up on time, completing tasks that are assigned to you, and basically not being a dick to your fellow coworkers is now worthy of adulation?
One of the things I have always prided myself on was the fact that my supervisors knew they could give me a task and it would be completed as requested without requiring their constant oversight. This managerial hands-off approach seems to work best for both parties, and probably stems from my many years as an architectural drafter. Once I was given a set of parameters, I was set loose to complete the task with a bare minimum of oversight thereafter.
Apparently this ability to work independently and actually do one’s job without having to be micromanaged is a rare commodity in today’s workforce.
First off, let me say that I am very grateful to have a job and to be working—even if it is for less money than I was earning ten fifteen years ago.
That being said, working for a government agency these past six months has been an eye opening experience. I have nothing in my work history to compare the level of dysfunction I encounter on a daily basis. Not even DISH was this broken, and that’s saying a lot.
You would think that this agency would’ve learned from the fiasco that was their 3-month new equipment refresh project that was started before Ben and I returned to Phoenix and is just now—more than a year later—wrapping up. Hiring Dell to basically do everything short of placing the new equipment on users’ desks wasn’t their first mistake. That was failing to get the necessary teams in place to do proper testing of the hardware and software before pushing it out to the thousands of employees across the state. If that sort of infrastructure had been in place, then maybe—just maybe—it wouldn’t have been necessary to terminate their contract when Dell failed to live up to the ridiculous expectations and timeline they’d been given…and then turn around and rehire them because it was obvious that without their outside knowledge and assistance the entire project was going to crash and burn in a spectacular fashion.
But no! Get it out, get it out, get it out! NOW NOW NOW.
So six weeks after I came on board and a few hundred Win10 machines had gone out the door, most of those machines started coming back in to be reimaged with Win7. Mission-critical software didn’t work properly. Users hated the OS. The CIO “left to pursue other opportunities” and his replacement immediately announced that unless the hardware wouldn’t support it or there was an overriding business reason for Win10 to be used, all new hardware that went out was to be loaded with Win7.
I can’t tell you how many problems that cleared up—not to mention it cut down our machine prep time by half.
My time here was supposed to have ended when the refresh project wrapped up, but I truly believe my supervisor wants to keep me around long enough to survive the agency’s hiring freeze so he can bring me on as a full time employee. (This would be a huge pay increase, bringing me back in line with what I have been making prior to this.) Thankfully for both of us, a new project was coming online—the replacement of around 250 customer-facing kiosk devices across the state; all of which would need to be imaged and prepped for deployment.
And that is where today’s rant comes in.
Once again we are being told to get something pushed out the door without adequate Q&A testing being performed—even though we know things are not working properly—because apparently it’s more important to show that something is being done rather than wait and make sure what’s being done is right.
With one batch of machines already out the door and in the field, the first time I had to unbox a few dozen other already-imaged machines was when the powers that be realized the assigned computer names were too long and couldn’t properly join the domain. The secondtime the machines (which thankfully hadn’t gone out yet) were unboxed was because someone realized that from a data security perspective, these very public machines probably shouldn’t have their USB ports active. The third time they were unboxed was because someone else realized that the machines needed to have an auto-login to the service account that ran the kiosk software.
The auto-logon worked sporadically at best, and seemed to be tied to the machines being in the proper group in Active Directory. Once they were in the correct bucket in AD, some worked and some still didn’t. “Oh, it’s a back-end issue they’re working on,” my supervisor said. “Go ahead and box them up and get them ready to go out.”
Against my better judgment, I boxed them up again. My boss returned to the workroom shortly after I’d finished the chore and said, “We need to force group policy again.”
Windows 10 might be a nice upgrade for most PC users—especially when it was free—but many just aren’t interested in it. Businesses especially are avoiding Microsoft’s latest operating system, according to new data.
Softchoice, which has obtained data from the TechCheck IT asset management service that is supplied to 169 firms in the U.S. running over 400,000 Windows machines, has found that only 0.75 percent of businesses are currently running Windows 10.
That’s right—not even a full percentage of businesses are running Windows 10 more than a year after its release.
Windows 7 is still used by 91 percent of enterprise customers, according to Softchoice, and that percentage continues to grow. It’s actually up 18 percent since the same time last year. Windows 8 is currently being used by 4 percent of businesses.
“It seems businesses don’t see an urgent need to move operating systems, so long as their cloud-based applications are still running fine on Windows 7,” said Craig McQueen, director of the Microsoft Practice at Softchoice.
However, McQueen does believe that Windows 10 will see a boost in adoption once organizations begin to “grasp the user benefits,” such as improved touch interaction, greater security, and baked-in Cortana.
User benefits? Touch interaction doesn’t work on desktops and Cortana was the first thing the organization blocked as part of Group Policy at my place of employment!
In addition, after a very poorly executed pilot program and a rush to get new machines into the hands of the users, nearly all of the machines that went out imaged with Windows 10 when I was first brought on board for this refresh project have now come back in to be reimaged with Windows 7. The users hate it, and a lot of home-baked mission-critical applications aren’t compatible.
Maybe someone should’ve looked into thatbefore we rolled out all those machines?
This past weekend Ben and I were discussing my impending return to unemployment, and I said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Tony (my supervisor) pulled some kind of Hail Mary Pass to keep me around.”
Indeed, a Hail Mary Pass was thrown on Monday. “Would you be interested in staying around a little longer—through the end of August—to help Paul retrieve old equipment from out in the field? You guys could go out in the morning while it’s still cool and then do your regular duties in the afternoon.”
Hell yes, I would—especially considering recruiters weren’t exactly knocking down my door and Ben and I been wondering how our little household would survive on me bringing home the measly $240/week (less than minimum wage!) that AZ unemployment would provide while looking for other work.
This offer was not extended to the other contractor who came on the same time I did, and while everyone concerned has done their level best to keep him blissfully unaware of this eleventh-hour development, the fact he didn’t show up for work today or notify anyone that he wouldn’t be coming in (ostensibly our last day here) tells me he might’ve found out…
My supervisor came in this morning and said, “Bad news. July 22nd.”
I knew what he was talking about even before the conversation continued. After six months, my contract at my current place of employment is finally coming to an end. We both knew this was coming, so it wasn’t a complete surprise. We both just thought—hoped—it would end up going a bit longer. The project iself has been a clusterfuck since long before I came on board, and it seemed that every day the scope and direction was changing, but we rolled with the punches and managed to meet all the deadlines. My initial contract was supposed to be for 90 days, but I’ve now been here six months, and in spite of upper management’s best efforts, the project is wrapping up.
On one hand, I’m disappointed because both my boss and I were hoping that he’d be able to keep me around at least through the end of September— or long enough for a permanent opening to come available in the department because I genuinely like it here. On the other hand, it’s been a struggle for me to get by on the amount of money I’ve been earning (less than I was making fifteen years ago), something that going perm would definitely take care of.
After our chat, I let my recruiter know what was going on. He said he was working on a position in a different department at the organization. (This is the same department I interviewed with twice last fall and was summarily rejected by both times. The difference now is that I have a glowing internal recommendation behind me, so perhaps this will turn into something good after all.)
In any case, I’m overdue for landing in a job where I end up staying for more than a couple years (or, as it seems since our return to Phoenix, a couple months). At this point, if I could find an Abrazo or an H&M (two places I worked for nearly a decade each), I could conceivably retire from the place…
And believe me, next to pissing off Payroll, pissing off I.T. is the dumbest thing you can do at work. Trust me. We can make your life a living hell.
1. Be Prepared.
One of the things that i was always taught as a kid was to be prepared. This includes being prepared when you call support. There is always a couple of routine questions that are asked,
What workstation are you using?
What printer is having issues?
Nothing pisses of support quicker than waiting around while you try to find information that you knew you would need.
2. Don’t be belligerent.
We don’t try to be rude, but 9 times out of 10 we have a dozen other things going, at least 6 of which are more important than your icons moving around. If we get short, it’s because you are wasting our time, or we have something better to do.
3. Understand that we are busy.
Unless you sign the paycheck, we will not drop whatever we are doing to make your Pandora radio play. We will get to it as soon as possible.
4. Don’t submit a ticket, email to make sure we got it, and then call to make sure we saw your email.
The system works, trust us. If it doesn’t we will let you know.
5. Don’t try to tell us how to answer your own question.
If you know better than we do then why did you bother asking?
If we don’t know the answer we will tell you.
6. If you have a problem tell us.
It is really tough, borderline impossible, to fix issues that we don’t know about.
Don’t bitch about it behind our backs. W don’t like hearing about things through the grapevine.
7. Answer any questions that are asked.
When we respond to your ticket with a question, it’s because we need to know more to help you, not because we like playing 20 questions. It’s also likely that you missed #1 above. And, if you ignore us, we can’t help you
Responding with “I just want it to work” * cough* CEOs * cough* is not going to help.
8. Don’t ambush us.
Just because we are walking by doesn’t mean we’re twiddling our thumbs, looking for something to do—more often than not, we’re on our way to do something. In fact, we usually will forget what you tell us fixing whatever we’re on our way to work on…
9. Don’t lie to us.
We’ll find out that you dumped your entire cup of coffee in your keyboard one way or another. Just tell us everything up front. It will save both of us a lot of time.
10. For managers: Don’t micro-manage.
Chances are we know what we are doing better than you do. It will be documented next time we have a second, and though it may not make sense you, it will make sense to another technical individual.
Experience has taught me that working with out-of-state recruiters is a complete waste of my time and resources. They don’t know the area, they don’t know the commute, and—for a increasingly large number of them—they don’t know how to speak English. I don’t have a problem working with people for whom English is not their primary language, but when you’re in a public-facing profession and people can’t understand a single thing you’re saying, perhaps you need to rethink your career choice.
Normally I just respond to their emails with a polite, “I do not work with out-of-state recruiters. Please do not contact me again,” and that’s the end of it. A few don’t take the hint and respond with “WHY NOT?” and at that point my civility goes out the door with a response of “What part of DO NOT CONTACT do you not understand?” The domains of mail coming from repeat offenders are finally routed at the server immediately into the trash and I never even see them.
I never answer calls from unrecognized numbers on my phone, forcing them to go to voice mail. So after these recruiters have left their rambling, unintelligible messages, the phone numbers get added to my blocked “Out of State Recruiters” contacts entry. BOOM.
For some reason today, I’ve been emailed by a dozen or so recruiters all based in North Carolina—all for the same job opening and half coming from the same damned company. (This is another ongoing irritation in working with recruiters; none of them in the same office ever seem to speak to each other.) This has afforded me the opportunity to respond in a more specific, non-generic fashion and be political at the same time; they don’t need to know that I wouldn’t work with them in any case, but I wrote back and told them that I would not do business with any company based in North Carolina because of HB2, and I suggested they pass that onto their employer.
Working in the “public sector” for the first time in my life has been an eye-opening experience.
Shortly after arriving in Phoenix last July, I had the opportunity to interview with this agency for a desktop support position. They were beginning the process of rolling out Windows 10 to around 1500 users and while I would not be the one doing the actual deployments, I would be doing post-deployment cleanup work. While I didn’t yet have any direct Windows 10 experience, it was still one of those interviews where you walk away thinking you’ve aced it and expected to receive an offer by the time you got home, but nothing ever came of it. “They decided to go with a different candidate, but you were their second choice.”
Second choice does not pay the bills.
A couple months later the same recruiter sent me back to interview with the same agency (and same people within the agency) for a Service Desk position, supporting the increase in calls that were anticipated once the Windows 10 project was in full swing. (It still hadn’t started.) I felt this interview hadn’t gone as well as the previous one, so it was no surprise when the recruiter called a few days later to say they’d chosen someone else. That was fine; I really had no desire to work on a Help Desk anyway—much preferring to be hands-on with my users. That is, after all, how you form bonds with your customers and oftentimes come out of it with lifelong friends.
You can imagine my surprise when I got a call from this same recruiter shortly after the first of the year, asking if I’d like to interview with this agency again, this time for an “Imaging Specialist” position. It was for substantially less money than the other two positions and my initial thought was, “Oh hell no!” but since my unemployment benefits from Colorado were about three weeks away running out completely I said, “Sure. Why not? Maybe the third time’s the charm.”
As I reported back in January, after one of the most disastrous interviews I’ve had since being back in Phoenix, they hired me.
And what exactly does an “Imaging Specialist” do? In the simplest terms, they load software images (snapshots of entire systems with everything preconfigured) onto PCs. This is a relatively quick way of loading the OS and various applications onto the computers without actually having to run through the manual install process each time.
This position wasn’t for something new they had in the works. It was for the same huge project that the agency initially told me about back in July that still hadn’t gotten off the ground. They had originally contracted with an outside firm to supply the hardware and apply the agency’s custom software images to the machines. But during the six months that transpired from my initial interview and the time I came on board in February, said company had succeeded in deploying approximately one dozen of the fifteen hundred machines.
Needless to say their contract was terminated, and the entire process was brought in-house.
Unfortunately, the in-house crew that was hastily assembled from former Service Desk staff had only one person on board who had any experience with the Microsoft Deployment Tool. (The application that was used for building and deploying these software images.) Perhaps anticipating the shit storm approaching, he hastily gave my boss approximately eight hours of training before transferring his ass to a different department.
Adding insult to injury, the software images that the initial outside company built for the agency didn’t work; forcing them to hire a consultant from Dell to come in and fix things.
Needless to say, it’s been an interesting couple months. My boss (who is new to a managerial position on top of all this) has been trying to train our Team Lead the voodoo of MDT so we can use it to reimage the older hardware in our inventory while working with the Dell consultant and the application developers to ensure that those images also work properly on all hardware platforms.
When you add an extra level of bureaucratic bullshit to the mix (the process for tracking equipment at this agency is positively labyrinthine), I can only sit back and laugh at the absurdity of it all sometimes.
As I’ve written before, this has given me a whole new appreciation for what the Enterprise Desktop Management team at DISH does so flawlessly on a daily basis.
I’m happy to report now however that all the kinks seem to have been worked out. The Dell consultant has gone home and we’re ready to actually begin the project I was hired on for; that is, loading the software images on those 1500 machines so the techs can deploy them.
(My boss has also been so impressed with what I’ve been doing on a day to day basis that he’s lobbying his supervisor to hire me full time. I’m fine with this, as I like the people I work with, the commute is a breeze, and it would also come with a substantial increase in pay—close to what I was making before we moved to Denver.)
As I enter my third week of employment, I have to admit that—perhaps surprisingly after all I’ve written about my last job—that for the first time in years, I actually look forward to going to work. Okay, maybe look forward to is a bit of an exaggeration because I can’t say I’ve ever worked at that kind of job, but let’s just say I don’t wake up with that abject sense of dread every morning like I did when I was at DISH…and I don’t actually mind going to work—even though I’m making less money than I was ten years ago.
Also surprisingly, these past weeks have also given me a whole new sense of appreciation for the Enterprise Desktop Management Team at DISH, a group the PC Techs often butted heads with. I knew they built both the infrastructure and the images themselves that we used to prep the machines for deployment, but I never realized just how much work went into getting everything working properly—and consistently, because I’m now on this organization’s version of that team.
While we don’t have a fancy name like EDM, we are the folks who build and—unlike at DISH—apply the software images to each piece of equipment that passes through the organization. Everyone in my group is new at image building using the Microsoft Deployment Toolkit (including our boss), so it’s a huge learning experience for everyone involved.
And I have to say the most amazing and refreshing thing about all this is that after spending two years in the feculent vat of toxic hellstew that was the PC Techs Department at DISH, at this job everyone treats each other with respect. Every night as he leaves, the boss thanks each of us for our contributions that day—no matter how much or how little we actually got done. And yeah, there’re jokes and off-color remarks tossed around during the day, but the difference from my time at DISH is that here the members of this team are adults. They know limits, know when jokes are appropriate and when they aren’t, and act accordingly.
When I first walked in this morning the boss asked if I was a religious person—because apparently he and one of the other techs and been discussing End Times and implanted microchips as Mark of the Beast. I looked at him and said, “Not at all. I’m an Atheist.”
He didn’t even flinch.
I figured this was as good a time as any, so a couple hours later we were chatting and I said, “Since I came out as an Atheist to you I’d might as well come out the rest of the way.”
He shot a quizzical look.
“I play for the other team.”
Another puzzled look.
Again, not even a flinch—not that I was expecting one. Before he got into I.T., the man (who’s a year or so older than I am) was a full-time musician and has traveled extensively. He’s also a Phoenix native, so we’d already bonded a bit over memories of the city back when we were teenagers so we had that…
While he’s previously hinted that my initial contract could conceivably go much longer (it was originally sold to me as 90-days “with the possibility of extension,” but none of the 1300+ PCs that I was hired to image have even yet arrived; never mind that the image itself hasn’t got the kinks worked out), this afternoon was the first time he outright asked if I thought this gig was something I’d like to go long term. I said, “Yes—so far.”
“Well, I haven’t seen anything that made me want to run screaming from the building.”
“Good. Because you’re an asset we don’t want to lose.”
It seems the Employment Gods have finally taken pity upon me and I have landed a job.
I’m still in a state of shock—because this sprang from what I consider to have been one of my worst—if not the worst—performances in an interview since moving back to Phoenix.
But I guess I must’ve said something that appealed to them. Either that or the other candidates were so resoundingly awful I won by default, even after being unable to answer two of the interviewer’s technical questions. (Or it might be that I stressed I actually liked the particular tasks this of this job—or the fact I loved producing documentation of processes, something else that will also be called upon.)
It’s for less money than I was making ten years ago and about $11K a year less than I was making in Denver, which after taxes amounts to only about $60 more per check than I’ve been receiving from Colorado Unemployment without taxes being taken out, but considering that my Colorado UI was due to run out in about six weeks, I can live with it. It’s supposedly only a 90-day contract, but “can go longer depending on the work load and possibly even permanent if I’m a good fit.”
Fingers crossed on that, because two of the best perks about this place is that it’s only about a mile from home, and I can wear jeansevery damn day.
I don’t have a firm start date yet; it’s dependent upon how quickly my background check clears.
A couple weeks ago I got a call from a recruiter back east. Normally I don’t bother working with out-of-state agencies because it has been my experience that it’s a complete waste of my time and resources: I send them everything but a blood sample and I never hear a word back from them. But this one sounded a bit different (and actually spoke English), so I went ahead with all the required paperwork and actually landed an interview with a local company. The position was described as “customer service/deskside support.” It was with a well-known financial services company that ironically occupied the same building of the company that summarily dismissed me twelve years ago after I received my cancer diagnosis.
The recruiter was serious about getting me in there and hired, so much so that the account manager coached me on the phone yesterday at length about the type of questions I’d be asked (he had actually worked for this particular company prior to going into recruiting) and offered some very useful tips about how to turn the interview to my advantage.
I was still nervous as hell when I arrived at the today because I hate selling myself—and as experienced I am in my field, I am notoriously bad at answering off the cuff technical questions. (“Where in the Windows registry do you find x?”) As it turned out, however, I shouldn’t have been so worried. The position they were interviewing for bore no resemblance at allto the description they’d given the recruiter. It was a call center help desk position and I’d be on the phones 100% of the time. It was also third shift.
Needless to say, it was the shortest interview I’d ever had. I explained this was not what had been sold to me by the recruiter, and thanked them for their time. Even the I.T. Director who was sitting in on this said he was surprised that with my background and experience I’d was applying for this particular job.
I went out to my car and called the recruiter. I explained what had happened and she verified the job description they’d been given. Nowhere did it mention “100% phones” or that it was third shift. She apologized profusely.
And to think I lost sleep last night worrying about all the possible interview questions that would be thrown at me today.
I’m disappointed, yes. But more than anything else, I’m angry. I’m angry because I thought this might actually be “the one.” As I’ve quipped on Twitter, “Looking for a job is like looking for love. You have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.”
Adding insult to injury, while sitting in my car talking to the recruiter who sent me to this debacle, I received a call from a local recruiter I’m working with who informed me that I was not selected for the State job I’d interviewed for last week. This was the second time I’d interviewed with those folks, and the second time I did not get selected. And of course, the recruiter got absolutely no feedback from the client as to my performance in the interview, so I have no idea what I could’ve done differently to win them over.
I hate interviewing because you never know what kind of crazy ass questions you’re going to be asked. Two weeks ago I interviewed for a short-term contract at a firm I’d contracted with back in the late 90s that also went nowhere. I was asked to describe how to make a PBJ sandwich. Seriously. (Okay, now that I know why that particular question was asked it does make a little bit of sense in the Alice-Through-The-Looking-Glass environment that is modern Corporate America, and I’ll have the proper response ready if I’m asked it—or something similar—again, but it caught me totally off guard at the time.)
Just as a job seeker you’re looking for your prince, companies also seem to be looking for someone who fits their pre-defined glass slipper perfectly, and I’m starting to feel like one of the ugly step sisters.
But I am trying to stay positive. I keep reminding myself that after my position “had been eliminated” following my cancer diagnosis, it was nearly a year before I was working again full time, and we’re not even halfway to that point yet. And I also gained a few good interviewing tips from this experience that I hadn’t known previously.
Still, I’d like to get back to work because every day that I’m away from the enterprise computing environment, the more my skill let deteriorates and my ability to answer those off-the-cuff technical questions with any degree of accuracy gets even worse.
But I guess I that’s not going to happen if I don’t spell out exactly what I want now, will it?
While I had complaints about my last job in Phoenix before we moved to Denver, the mere fact that I stayed there nearly eight years (and would probably still be there in some form if we hadn’t relocated) says a lot about what works for me. Unfortunately, my work situation in Denver was—how shall I say this? Unacceptable. So let’s not do anything remotely like that again, m’kay?
I’m looking for a smallish-firm, maybe 250-500 employees or so—or a larger firm where my assigned responsibility would be for about that same number. I like smaller firms, but not so small that I’m the only I.T. guy. I don’t mind being the only desktop guy, but I don’t want to handle servers, connectivity beyond basic troubleshooting, dealing with telecommunications vendors, purchasing, receiving, or anything that is—as my former boss used to call it—”behind the wall.”
My first job in Denver was pretty much like this, but upper management maintained a continual adversarial stance toward I.T. in general, which meant that during the two years I was there we went through three I.T. directors with an average gap of six months between each one, during which time I was expected to handle everything, and was given copious amounts of attitude when I failed to meet their unrealistic expectations, so I know that’s not an environment for me.
As I said, while I had complaints about that last Phoenix job, the basic mechanics of it were nearly ideal. We were a large firm, but since each desktop guy had their own facility to support with anywhere from 250-400 users, it seemed much smaller. The workload wasn’t horrific, but it was enough to keep boredom at bay and allowed for occasional down time. The entire I.T. department was very close-knit, and while I rarely socialized with any of my colleagues after hours, I still came to view them as friends and not just co-workers.
I don’t mind driving between multiple facilities to help out my colleagues, but I want a home base; I don’t want a “field tech” position.
Pay? $50K a year would be nice. I’m worth more than that, but I’m trying to be realistic considering the current pay scale here.
I’d also like receive a modicum of respect from whatever company I work for and not be treated like an I.T. Janitor (or required to wear a requisite uniform) as I was at DISH. And while I enjoy a fun work environment as much as anyone, there’s a fine line between fun and frat house.
As far as the industry? I still miss Healthcare, but getting back into it isn’t an absolute. I’d also love to be able to build on my Mac experience in an enterprise environment.
I don’t think I’m asking that much, but if I know if I don’t put it out there and focus, it’s gonna be kind of hard for it to come my way.
Failing this, a winning lottery ticket with a $1-5 million payout would be nice. Just sayin’.
One of the reasons I initially abandoned architecture and went into Technology Support full time was that it afforded a bit of fun and wild west freedom in the corporate world. (Plus I was totally burnt out on architecture.) Though the pay scale didn’t always reflect it, we were often regarded by our coworkers as jean-clad gods. But something happened over the last twenty years, and instead of Corporate America being assimilated by the freedom of the personal computer, it was the other way around.
Technology was taken over by the same tired stuffed suits and number crunchers that have always ruled corporations. And even so we still aren’t remunerated commensurate with the fact that the entire global economy now rests upon tech workers. But even worse, we are now expected to conform—and this has never been so clear to me as it has been over the last five years.
Of course I got an inkling of what was coming for years prior to that, but I never thought it would spread so virulently.
After the horrible professional experiences I had in Denver, my main goal upon returning to Phoenix was was to get back into healthcare I.T. support. While it wasn’t always smooth sailing when I worked at Abrazo, the camaraderie of my team and the good times we shared far outweighed the bad often enough that I stayed eight years, leaving only when Ben and I moved to Denver. Over the past four years, the various times we’d landed in the Emergency Room for one reason or another made me realize just how much I missed the hospital environment. After two years at DISH, supporting a television provider with delusions of grandeur and personalities acting like they were brain surgeons operating on Heads of State—I wanted to get back to doing what I love in an arena that actually benefited people instead of just allowing the CEO to buy another home in Aspen.
Be careful what you ask for. You may get it.
Well, a few weeks ago that healthcare matador appeared, waving his red cape in front of my eyes, and I took off charging. To be clear, this wasn’t a direct hire; it was an open-ended contract, “but people generally go perm after about three months.” It sounded too good to be true. My interview went well; I came away thinking that I might’ve found a place I could land for the next several years.
Little did I know the matador was Bugs Bunny, and he had hidden a huge anvil behind that red cape and this poor bull went crashing headlong into it.
It was immediately obvious that I would not be working in the hospitals at all. I was told to report to the Network Service and Support Center my first day; the same dank, 60s era building where I interviewed. When I first entered the Desktop Support area that morning, my heart sank. No cubes. Just long, open desks built end-to-end with absolutely no privacy whatsoever.
The physical environment was unpleasant, but the technological environment was a disaster. The company had recently formed from a merger of two disparate entities, and the two separate systems did not speak to each other—at least not easily. Adding insult to injury, there was no company-wide IM system in place. One company had used Lync and the other Microsoft Communicator. And even then—unlike DISH (I can’t believe I’m saying something positive about that place)—not every employee had access to it. So every single service call involved emails (because no one ever answered their phones), and many fruitless trips to desks because the user had stepped away.
I told the department manager that I’d be more than happy to be based at one of the hospitals. His response, “I already have someone else in mind for that.” So I was stuck at the Service Center. Not what I was expecting from the interview.
Not ideal, but still…the commute was a breeze and the money was good. The biggest problem were the half hour lunches. (This is something that’s pretty standard in healthcare, and not an issue if you’re at a hospital with its own onsite cafeteria, but this place lacked that amenity.) And even though there were a plethora of places to eat just on the other side of the freeway, there was still no way you could go, eat, and get back in half an hour. “Oh, we usually go get our food, come back, clock out and eat at our desks.”
Uh, no. I’m not eating at my desk! So—since I didn’t have to physically clock in and out being a contractor—for the last week my lunches have been averaging 45 minutes and I either ignored the 30 minute rule or stayed late to make up the difference. No one’s said a word—probably because they’re all guilty of cheating the system.
Then, a few days ago—as if to add insult to injury—they took our chairs away. Those desks were sitting at were only to be used as charging stations for our laptops. We were now field techs and expected to be mobile and on our feet for the duration of the day.
Where do we catch up on those emails, close tickets, and perform the myriad other tasks that my particular profession entails? Apparently standing up somewhere out on the floor.
And then I saw this hanging over the boss man’s desk:
I was so aghast I had to take this photo. Yes, it’s real. And it explains so much.
How this has allowed to remain is anyone’s guess. Obviously H.R. doesn’t make it into the inner sanctum very often.
Anyhow, the desk/chair thing slid by until this morning, when the boss man realized that we had moved our chairs back into position and steam started coming out his ears. “We’ll have a meeting after lunch to discuss how I expect you to work your tickets.”
By this time, I was at my wit’s end. Every day had been a struggle to do tasks that have been second nature to me for the last two decades, simply because the systems didn’t talk to each other and no one had answers for anything.
Almostnothing had been documented; and the few things I did find documented were so hopelessly out of date as to be useless.
Yeah, I did make a few people happy by solving their problems, but it was only because I said fuck it, and did what I knew would the resolve the issue. “Oh! You need local admin rights on this machine to fix this. Let me take care of that.”
Over the course of the last two weeks, because of the stress, I’d returned to my DISH habit of waking up between 3:45 and 4:15 every morning and being completely unable to fall back asleep.
Adding to this mix today, it was announced that all the technicians were to start wearing ties. Yes, we who crawl under your desks and pull cable and deal with your dirt on a daily basis are expected to dress as if we’re going to a job interview. And oh yeah, no cargo pants.
Seriously? Cargo pants have been acceptable “business casual” attire for PC techs everywhere I’ve worked for the last twenty years, with DISH even going so far as to supply them for us. (Branded, of course.)
So after the boss man had his little meltdown over the chairs being moved back and he’d stormed out, I walked over to my immediate supervisor and said, “I don’t think I am a good match for this environment.” She apologized profusely and told me she understood completely. “Do you need to call your agency?” I told her I did.
So I walked outside and first called Ben, because I wasn’t going to do anything without first consulting him.
Then I called the agency. It didn’t come as a complete surprise because I’d emailed my recruiter yesterday basically saying the same thing about this place not being a good fit. “That’s the beauty of contracting,” I said. “You know if it’s a good fit or not without a huge commitment.”
I went back inside, retrieved my backpack and went to lunch.
When I returned from lunch, the boss man took me aside and told me he understood why I was leaving, but tried to backpedal and tell me that he had made it clear in our interview that this was a field service position.
Uh, no. No you didn’t. If I’d known that I’d be expected to be mobile 8 hours a day I would never have agreed to come on board.
“I need guys who can hit the ground running after a week of hands-on training and go.”
IN THIS ENVIRONMENT? ONE WEEK OF TRAINING WITH NO DOCUMENTATION?
He then signed my time card, and after retrieving my badge, escorted me out of the building—confirming everything I’d suspected about this place.
What have I learned from this? Well, for starters I am reminded that if someone is willing to pay substantially more than the going rate for my job description, there’s a reason, and usually because the place is fucked and can’t keep people. Secondly, I have a slew of new questions I’ll be asking in all future interviews: hours, length of lunch breaks, acceptable attire, and just how messed up is your infrastructure, anyway?
Another agency is scheduling an interview for me next week at a non-healthcare company.
Today is a “Mark ALL as Read” day in RSS land, because I just can’t. I’m done with stupid.
I started a new (contract) job today, and while I know it’s probably not fair to make a judgment after only 8 hours, I feel like I’ve reached the point in my life where I will never be happy in my work life ever again.
You never really know what you’re getting into when you take a new job until you actually get into it and overturn that stone to see all the squiggling unpleasantness that had been living underneath hidden from your initial [inter]view.
Don’t get me wrong; the people in the department seem nice. They’re dealing with a lot of the technical shit that comes from the merger of two separate companies, and my supervisor, while friendly and more than pleasant didn’t mince words in describing what they’re facing and how a multitude of things are broken and not getting fixed any time soon. I console myself by thinking, “There may be lifelong friendships waiting to happen somewhere out on that floor.”
I went into this thinking I was going to be working in a hospital again, so I was not overly concerned when the email arrived Friday telling me to report to the Network Service and Support Center this morning. I started out at Corporate when I worked at Abrazo (albeit at that time Corporate and the I.T. Department were based in one of the hospitals) so this didn’t seem out of line. However, it turns out I’m only working there until their ticket count goes down and then I may be one of the traveling technicians who drives to the multitude of clinics around the valley—while the as-yet-to-arrive second tech they hired will probably be assigned to the hospital on this side of town. (A possibility that was never communicated to me during the interview.) None of this is cast in stone however, and frankly I’m hoping that my immediate supervisor (who doesn’t even make the decision) was simply talking out her ass.
So when my friends and family have asked how it went today, I tell them it’s a job. It’s a decent income. It’s not DISH. That’s really about it.
And oh yeah, only seven more years (more or less) until I can retire. (Unless we happen to win the lottery between now and then. Stranger things have happened!)
OH MY GOD. I know it’s been only one day, but the place I’m going to be working at for the next month or so is about as far removed from my previous work environment as possible. I’d forgotten what it was like to work in an I.T. Department that isn’t dripping with drama and dysfunction; a department filled with people who are genuinely friendly and actually seem to like being there and enjoy what they’re doing.
And really, who can blame them? A relaxed dress code (I can wear jeans every day), an onsite cafeteria, more than adequate restroom facilities, and completely covered employee parking (something that if you don’t live in Arizona you can’t fully appreciate).
The folks I work with are helpful and encouraging; such a change from the majority of coworkers at my last place of employment. I didn’t hear a single disparaging or inappropriate comment from anyone in the department and so to my former boss I say, See bitch? It’s not like your feculent vat of toxic hellstew everywhere.”
I was initially concerned about the commute. It’s about seven miles further each way than the one I had in Denver, but it turns out that even with it being a greater distance, it takes the same amount of time thanks to the valley’s properly sized transportation infrastructure.
My only regret is that this is slated to be only a short-term gig. But then, so was my last job in Phoenix that ended up turning permanent and lasting nearly 8 years.
We shall see. In the meantime, I’m just going to relish actually looking forward to going to work again.
Yesterday was my last day at ██████. My eighteen months there was—without question—the absolute worst experience of my entire career. Maintaining my professionalism in the face of such unrelenting unprofessionalism exhibited by the immediate management and most of the members of my department was a huge drain, both physically and emotionally, and something I hope to never go through again.
That being said, I did gain some additional Windows 7 proficiency that I didn’t have before coming on board, I received formal OS X training, and I made two new friends (forged through fire as it were), the only positive things to come out of the whole experience.
My exit interview was enlightening, only because it confirmed that our H.R. representative already knew about what had been going on down there.
I didn’t use the phrase “Feculent Vat of Toxic Hellstew” to describe it, but I so wanted to.
Her eye rolls and other non-verbal reactions to my answers to her questions told me all I needed to know and I finally said, “I’m not telling you anything you haven’t already heard, am I?”
She replied, “No, but I need multiple data points before any action can be taken. And I wish you had come to me earlier instead of letting it come down to this.”
Like anything would have changed had I done that—and I told her as much. As long as my manager has the protection of our department’s VP, nothing is going to happen.
If nothing else, it felt good to get it all off my chest.
Now I can begin to detox, and by this time next week—as I came to realize when we were on vacation in Atlanta a couple months ago—it will return to being nothing more than the distant, tiny, petty little box of toxic hellstew that it truly is; not the center of the universe as it would like to intimidate its employees into believing.
I put in my notice at work yesterday. Even before my boss had come in, I had this IM conversation with her boss:
While I wasn’t the one to let it slip, this woman has known for weeks that I was leaving and on what day—as confirmed by “I had been waiting,” so don’t be acting all surprised, honey.
When my boss came in about fifteen minutes later, she was rejoicing that starting next Monday she was going to be out on vacation for two weeks. One of my coworkers (who I had informed of my departure after sending my resignation email a few moments earlier) piped up and said, “Well that’s two of you gone.”
“Who’s out next week?”
“I don’t remember seeing that. Is it on the calendar?”
“No,” my coworker continued. “He’s out for good. Monday is his last day.”
At that point I chimed in and said, “You haven’t read your email yet.”
She looked at me and the looks that crossed her face were priceless. First shock, then anger, and then it was as if a curtain dropped. “Really? I’m happy for you…and a little jealous.”
Believe me, she won’t be so happy after my exit interview with HR.
I can’t describe how happy and relieved I am that this horrible experience is finally coming to an end. Working for ██████ has been the absolute worst experience of my professional life, bar none. (You know you’ve lost the respect of your employees when the threat of termination is perceived as a reward, not a deterrent.) I kept hoping that things would improve—hence the reason I haven’t quit sooner—but they never did. It was only after Ben and I spent a week in Atlanta and I had a chance to detox (it literally felt like that) I came to see that despite its belief to the contrary, ██████ is not the center of the known universe. And my department especially is nothing more than a 30′ x 30′ square box of fecund hellstew; hence the brutal—and I must say, liberating—honesty with my manager’s boss.
The main reason I didn’t put in the customary two-week notice? Again and again I’ve seen the way this company treats its employees and I didn’t want to risk being immediately escorted from the building after putting in my notice (it’s happened). One week’s wages I could—though not ideally—live without, if necessary. Two weeks was an unacceptable loss. While the escorting didn’t happen, I know I’m going to be screwed over somehow before this process is complete. In fact, I’ll be surprised if I’m not.
I failed…and rather spectacularly if we’re going to be honest.
So much for my quick ticket out of Hell.
I sincerely thought I had this thing in the hole. My only worry was that there would be several fill-in-the-blank questions, all of which I failed miserably on the practice tests I’d taken. (The wording needed to be exactly as it was in the course materials in order to get those right; if you so much as used an “a” when there should have been an “an,” you’d fail.) When the tests were all matching, true/false, and multiple-choice I consistently scored in the upper nineties. I figured even if a quarter of the questions on the final exam were the fill-in-the-blank variety, I could miss them all and still squeak by with with the minimum 75% passing grade.
Alas, it was not to be. And it’s just another one of the “death by a thousand cuts” that Denver has come to symbolize.
I’m not trying to make excuses, but the final test bore absolutely no resemblance to any of the so-called “official” practice tests I’d taken. It was all multiple choice, so thankfully I didn’t have to write anything out, but I still only got a score of 65% correct.
I can take it again, but this time it will cost me and not my employer.If I do decide to take it again, I will need to definitely pour over the course materials, because the test managed to focus on the least-discussed concepts that were covered in training and since they aren’t in any of the practice tests, they are not committed to memory.
To add insult to injury, there is a very good chance that Ben’s contract is not going to be renewed for the next school year.
We may be moving back to Phoenix sooner rather than later.
If you’re tired of hearing me bitch about work, you should probably move on.
Usually my Sunday evening blues don’t hit until…well, Sunday evening. But they came early today.
On Friday, we were informed by La Chupacabra (the name a colleague and I have adopted for our manager) during our weekly meeting beatdown that starting immediately there would be changes in the way we do our jobs and that she would be micromanaging more, not less. And if we didn’t like it—to use her favorite phrase, “SORRYFOYA!”
Apparently she got her ass handed to her on a platter by her boss’s boss, and of course, shit flows downhill.
Until now, she had taken a very active role in the day-to-day functioning of the department. While all of us coded a portion of the incoming service tickets (because for some reason the Help Desk is incapable of doing it correctly), she handled the majority of them because they needed to be done just so or a rift would open in the space-time continuum. (Actually, it’s so blame can be properly directed if something isn’t done correctly, because at ██████blame is the name of the game. During her coding, she’s also worked several tickets that in her estimation were simply easier to do herself rather than assign out.
All that is changing.
No longer will she be coding tickets. That’s a job that will now fall on each and every one of us. Further, she can no longer work any tickets. And finally, we’re no longer able to choose which tickets we take on because she will be assigning each and every one of them. I see a huge disconnect there, but that’s standard operating procedure at ██████.
It takes work to get voted the worst company in America to work for, after all.
If that weren’t enough, our roles are changing. Until now, each of us had specialized in certain areas. Now we’re all expected to be able to do everything. I see the logic in this, but it’s nevertheless going to be a huge adjustment.
“AND WHY HAVEN’T YOU GOTTEN YOUR MAC CERTS?!”
I can adapt. I can change, but this, along with the other changes that have been put in place since the opening of our in-house blatant rip off of Apple’s Genius Bar, are pushing all of us to the brink of quitting. And the more I think about it, the more I think this is upper management’s ultimate goal.
By the time lunch rolled around, I was fighting a near-migraine. I went out and grabbed some food, hoping that (and a dose of ibuprofen) would help. It didn’t; it only got worse. So I emailed my manager and went home.
She doesn’t normally seem to read email (I called out sick once and she didn’t even notice I was gone until late that day), so I was rather surprised when my colleague texted me and said she had openly mocked the email in front of the entire team. So professional, that one…
That is just another example of why—unlike all the other places I’ve worked—my department has a horrible—and well deserved reputation within the company. The frat-house mentality (that I’ve mentioned previously) I work in has not gone unnoticed, and my only question at this point is why its been allowed to continue.
When I brought this up in a one-on-one with my manager, her response was, “All PC Techs are like this.”
Well, no they aren’t, honey—and if you think they are, you need to get out into the world more.
One of my colleagues has told me I should consider putting in a transfer to another department, but what good would that do? The body rots from the head down, and after the recent purge of approximately 50 employees from the entire I.T. Division and their frog-march out of the building (WHY was I so unlucky not to be among them?!), shows me that ██████ management doesn’t really give a shit about any of the people who work there.
I—like I’m sure many of my readers—have had some pretty shitty jobs and have worked for some awful companies, but during the 35 years I’ve been working I’ve only walked out of three of them, the most recent being my last one. That is the reason I can’t do it now—as deserving of it as it is and as much as I dream of it every. single. day. (If I’d only known what lay ahead I would never have left my previous company because that was a slice of heaven compared to my current place.) So I have to do the responsible, adult thing and make sure I have another job lined up before leaving.
(Or I could test the recent edict that going out the wrong door will result in my immediate termination.)
But not to come off as a completely Negative Nelly in all this, I’ve also had the pleasure of working for a some truly outstanding companies; places that were very difficult to leave even when circumstances demanded that I move on. Two of those were small architectural offices, and one was the healthcare company I worked for in Phoenix. In each of these cases, it was only my relocation to a new city that forced us to part ways.
In all those cases, I had a trial-by-fire before finding myself in their employ. I’m hoping that is the case here, and that the “third time’s a charm” adage holds as true for Denver as it seems to have for every other time I’ve found myself in a new locale.
I’m registered on all the job boards, and I do get occasional calls from recruiters, but so far the jobs are either too much of a commute (sorry, I’m not driving to/from Boulder every day) or not enough money. (I recently laughed at a recruiter who was offering a position doing what I’m doing now that required a degree and multiple certifications that was paying $9 an hour. Yes, NINE DOLLARS an hour. Are these people on crack?)
I’m sure something good is going to come along…it’s just a matter of surviving in the increasingly toxic environment at ██████ until it does.
I had a one-on-one with my supervisor the other day. I approached this with the attitude that I was going to be totally honest with her, and if I got fired afterward (I should be so lucky), so be it.
“So how are things going?”
I got up and closed the conference room door.
“To be honest, I am very unhappy. In fact, I’m looking for another job.”
The look on her face was priceless. She was genuinely thrown off by this revelation.
We proceeded to discuss the sources of my unhappiness—including the frat house atmosphere of the department—and she promised to start making some changes in that regard…at least at first. By the end of the meeting, however, she was backpedaling and trying to tell me that this middle-school maturity I am immersed in on a daily basis is typical for our career. “I’ve worked with lots of techs and it’s the same everywhere.”
Uh, no it’s not.
“Please don’t leave! You’re the only tech I have who people haven’t complained about!”
That told me reams.
I would like to think something positive will come from our little chat, and to her credit she did call out someone yesterday who let an f-bomb fly, but I’m really not expecting much. A lot of what I hate about this place is engrained in the company DNA, and nothing is going to change.
Ironically, the annual employee survey came out the day after our meeting, and I was totally honest there as well. “Have you thought about resigning within the last six months?” Seriously? Unfortunately there was no every single fucking day response available.
Would you recommend ██████ services to friends or family?
Not only no, but hell no.
The remainder of the questions were mostly about my satisfaction with the company—much like the survey you get after eating at Jack-in-the-Box, where 1 is “highly dissatisfied” and 5 is “very satisfied.” I couldn’t answer a single question any higher than “neither satisfied or dissatisfied,” with the majority of them being “dissatisfied” and “very dissatisfied.”
And at this point—even if the survey isn’t “anonymous” as advertised, and it gets tracked back to me, I DON’T CARE.
And not surprisingly, my supervisor hasn’t exchanged a dozen words with me since our meeting…