Woody Cavenaugh

That title says it all, and lets not forget I grew up a fat kid who wore braces for 6 years and was named "Woody". I thought I had seen it all.

Then I find out that the work I have been doing in Project Management creating a database application to track IT work, and then spit out high level queries and reports based on that data, makes me a computer repair technician. I haven't been a computer repair technician in three years. My training in the past three years have been three database courses, two project management courses, and a diplomacy and tact class. Does that sound to you like the sort of training you give a guy doing tech support? I ask this because the other tech guys are getting A+ certifications and stuff. Most of them work as a tech for three years and rise out of it. That's what happened with me...I thought. I got a fifty cent raise. My boss got a sixty cent raise. My coworker got a dollar and a half raise. One of my buddies who started a tech and then moved on to better things (just like me) got a two dollar and fifty cent raise. (I am actually pretty pleased with that, he's got a second baby on the way and really needs all the help he can get.) And it really isn't about the money. I've never made any money, and I don't ever really expect that to change. I am incensed that what I do is so undervalued in this organization. And these are the same guys who read my reports every week and have the information to give compliment or correction to their own people as well as protect their ungrateful asses from the likes of Dick Cheek.
Ok, so I got handed that way below the belt blow. I'm an adult, I got my big boy pants on. I'll go throught the formal process of challenging the decision. Bitterness is the rifining fire through which hate becomes determination. I am simply reaching deeply within me and relasing my inner bitterness. Feels warm. When the bitterness comes I feel these large flaming wings unfurl behind me. It feels like stretching unused muscles. At least I am going to fencing where I always have a good time surrounded by great people whom I all like, and all appreciate me.
Never in my life have they so collectively sucked. It reached the point that I announced to them that they were so collectively bad that we weren't going to fence electric next week just so they could drill the whole class.

I had a terrific dinner way too late with comfort food that added inches to all the wrong places.

This morning I woke up and got ready for work. I'm still fuming. We leave for work late. While I am stuck in traffic behind a woman doing 45 miles per hour in a 55 zone (she was actually white knuckling her steering wheel) Sara says, "Any chance you could go home this weekend. I need some me time." The slow driver, and that exchange didn't even phase me. Why sweat the small stuff. The woman is old and will likely die soon anyway. I am in a foul mood and not fit for polite company, Sara makes a very valid request.

I drop her off at her office and head for the last place on campus where there might be parking at this hour. Turning onto Highland avenue a semi is comming the other way, it is tight but there is room. He veers into my lane stops his truck opens his door and hops out. He doesn't close his door. He walks over to a construction worker and they chat for awhile. Meanwhile the three cars behind me are less patient. Two of them manage to back onto Spring Garden street stopping traffic and causing many horns to honk, and much sign language to ensue. The person directly behind me can't back into the street because she keeps getting cut off by the people from Spring Garden street who are pulling around her and getting on my bumper with horn and finger as their guide. I could have probably got out of my car, shut the door to the semi and maybe slipped past if I were really careful. But I was enjoying my coffee and the song on the radio and the little fantasy I was having about shutting the semi door using my car. He does eventually move, and he really enjoyed stopping traffic in both directions on the street. It is really the only power he has and I can understand why he needs to do that once in a while.

I get one of the very last parking spots on campus. (The car behind me didn't get one at all.) And I grab my bag, lunch box, coffee mug and sun glasses. Now to go to the office...finally. Only one problem. Between me and my office was no less than EIGHT Giddians passing out bibles. It took some time, but I managed to make it very clear that I wasn't going to take their damn new testimate all without saying a word or getting closer than 50 feet from them. It was actually fun. I would step onto the side walk and a wandering profit would take a position so I would have to pass them. I would make eye contact with them and cross to the other side of the street. They would, of course, cross as well and take up a new position where I would have to pass them. So I would cross back. Once I even turned around and went through a building. I came out of the building 50 to the other side of them. He took a position at the cross walk. I smiled, and Jay walked, he crosses the street and tries to cut me off at the other side. I stop, smile, and cut throught the bushes. Not one of them got closer to me than 40 feet.
It felt good to stretch my wings and feel the breeze fanning the flames.

So I am finally in my office. I am playing Bloodhound Gang CD's loudly and I am singing along. I am wearing a very offencive T-Shirt, shorts and sandles. I will prance around this building and be seen. All of the offences confidiental letters and such are taped to the wall outside my office door. I am wearing Black Phoenix Alchemy Labs "Grog", which smells like coconut rum. Today is the one day I am allowing myself to act out and be exactly what they think I am. Tomorrow, its back to business as usual.

It is too much fun manipulating an entire organization to give up this terrific job surrounded by great co-workers over an insult. Even one of this magnatude.