LOL Committees

At first I thought corporations had a lot of meetings. I figured it was because management needed to keep track of a lot of staff. After I joined a small non-profit, I thought we would have fewer meetings since we have fewer staff. I was very wrong.

Instead, we have more meetings. I think half my days are spent in meetings. We then have meetings about our meetings (pre-meeting meeting). Just when I thought it couldn't get anymore ridiculous, I find a new king of "plan a lot, very little to show" behavior.

Apparently I was not properly introduced to the big leagues of inefficiency, the 'committee'. They're like meetings except its the exact same people dragging out the exact same topic ad infinitum, usually without any actual work (other than delegation).

I can just imagine that aspiring young manager moments before inventing the first committee, "Man, I love talking in meetings, but every week I need to come up with a new agenda and do the work of typing it up. How can I avoid that? What if I form a reoccurring meeting with the same group of people to discuss a much bigger issue? That way I can recycle the agenda for months and possibly years!"

Anyways, I digress with my rants so I'll continue with my story. Today was my first day participating in one of the committee meetings. We're a sub-committee of a larger committee that's meant to address data quality concerns in our database. What were some of the topics that we discussed? The first topic addressed - there was a rumor that another committee exists and is doing the exact same thing as our current committee.

We ask around the room to see if anyone's heard of this mysterious twin committee. We promptly see half the room raise their hands. Not only has half the room heard of our long lost twin committee, half of our current committee are part of the other committee (who we think are addressing the exact issues that we're addressing in our current group). Confusion spreads around the room; some people are on both committees without even realizing it. (Oh you meant that meeting? That was one of our committee meetings?) The issue of merging committees will be discussed on the next meeting.

For two hours we talk about what needs to be addressed to present statistically reliable information about homelessness to our community. Our solution after hours of discussion? Our current committee (remember that we're a sub-committee) has decided to form a new sub-committee to tackle the issues at hand...

I'm now part of a sub-committee's sub-committee that will focus on the rules of database merging and report writing. After today's meeting, I now know what a committee truly is. A committee is simply a group meeting where the work is repeatedly passed down to smaller groups until you actually have the people who will get shit done. That said, I wonder if we still have enough people to form one more sub-committee... The only difference is that I hope I'm not picked this time.

Cold...

It's a Tuesday... and the Executive Director of my non-profit was let go today. It was also coincidentally his birthday. This was a surprise to all of us. He took the day off so he could celebrate his birthday, but had to come in for a 'quick meeting' that couldn't be rescheduled with some of the board members. The surprise meeting was his termination.

Let me give some background information; I work at a non-profit for the homeless, not a corporation. We're not even that big of a non-profit; I work with about 7 other staff. Despite this, we don't even have the decency to let him have his day off or to wait until a Friday.

That's cold. I called him up after to let him know that the rest of the staff didn't know about the decision and that we'd like to buy him a beer or ten.

I know there was a lot of disagreement and even open hostility between the board and our Executive Director. I know some could justify it even fiscally to fire someone at an opportune fiscal date so that it makes bookkeeping easier. In the end though, I think it's just people so blinded by emotions (or lack thereof) that they forget how to be a decent human being to one another.

I'm fine :)

I think this past week has given me some clarity on what I want in future relationships (and its a bit clearer than Sunday's idea of "I'm done with all relationships"). I'm more aware of where to draw the lines between helping and supporting. I know more of what I like and dislike. I know what are deal breakers and what I'm willing to compromise on. I guess in the end, this relationship just helped me learn more about myself.

I'm not a materialistic kind of guy and if I ever get into another serious relationship, they should understand that. Despite living in San Diego for over two years, pretty much all my stuff fits in two suitcases with the exception of my surfboard and mountain bike. Despite that, finances were an issue in our relationship and the reason they were an issue is because I want to travel again. Peace Corps in Tonga, backpacking through Europe, and seeing some of the US East Coast just made me want to travel more. I'm not sure if its just something that I need to get out of my system or if its just how I want to live life.

In either case, I want to travel more so I just applied to be a janitor... in Antarctica! If I'm lucky, I'll be going from a full-time program manager at a homeless non-profit to a temporary janitor, I'll make a third of what I make now, and I'll move from sunny San Diego, CA to freezing Antarctica... if I'm 'lucky' enough to get the janitor job.

After my interview with Doctors Without Borders, I know that I need more life experience traveling (and hopefully learn French) before I apply again. Since the job in Antarctica covers free room and food, I'll be able to pocket whatever I make and use that to fund more backpacking. I'm thinking that I might try either South America (either Ecuador or Buenas Aires) or South Africa to surf/learn French for a year.

Oh, and my travel blog hasn't been deleted, I just ended up archiving it.

Our Place

I remember the first time Adrienne and I walked into the empty apartment. I can almost see us there, hand in hand wearing smiles that barely contained our anticipation, both of us eager to move into our first place together. As we walked across the bare hardwood floors, our steps echoed throughout the rooms. The whole apartment had a light colored décor that was instantly warm and welcoming. After viewing the place, we didn't need to say anything, we knew it would be our new home.

Being the travelers we are, we moved in with barely any possessions. Between the two of us, there were a couple of mattresses and some hastily packed boxes of clothes. We didn’t even have to rent a vehicle; a few car trips with some friends quickly moved us in. We didn’t have much, but we couldn’t have been happier. We were quite the unusual pair whose ultimate nightmare wasn’t being homeless, but rather owning a home.

Moving in was quite the commitment in more ways than one. For one, it was our first time living with one another. For both of us, this was our first real relationship. Speaking of commitment, in order to rent our ‘dream apartment’, we had to sign a 6 month lease (which seemed like an eternity to us). Despite our initial hesitation, we signed because we knew that life was going well; Adrienne had gotten the break she needed after months of job searching and had finally landed a new job that paid well. I was still enjoying my job and after being broke for so long in college, I was still getting used to the fact that I had expendable income. We were happy to have our own place together.

Soon after moving in and consolidating what we had, we realized our past reliance on our previous roommates’ kitchenware and furniture. Our place was barren and it remained so for a while; a few months after the last box was unpacked, a visiting friend saw our place for the first time and asked us without a hint of sarcasm, “When do you guys finish moving in?”

One day we finally broke down and decided to ditch the minimalist lifestyle. We finally accepted kitchen and furniture gifts from family and friends. My mom started it off by buying us a dining table. Once she found out that I would accept gifts (albeit reluctantly), she got us a couch and a set of kitchen knives.

Our thinking of what was acceptable to keep slowly shifted with time. When I first moved to San Diego, I was adamant that we had to follow by the “everything has to fit in the backpack” rule. (To be fair, I didn't think we were planning on staying long - we still had a world to explore) It took a while, but that mentality changed to the “everything has to fit in the truck” rule, which then finally took the form of “everything has to fit in the apartment” rule.

Now I’m sitting in the same empty apartment as it was a year ago. The rooms completely cleared, our stuff has been packed into separate boxes, and we’ve had random strangers on craigslist come by every so often to buy our stuff.

I used to wonder why people had such a hard time giving things up. Now I think I understand a little better. It’s not so much that they’re losing their material possessions; it’s more so that they’re losing a souvenir of their memories. The cute dinner table wasn’t so much a finely crafted piece of wood as it was the gift that my mom gave me or the place where I spent cooking countless new recipes.

When I leave this apartment tonight, I won’t take most of the material items with me, but I will take with me the good memories I’ve had here. Since I moved out of my parents place when I was 17, I haven't been to a place that I genuinely felt like it was home. This place was different; Adrienne made it home. And now I feel her slipping away from my life as well.