“Girl, you’re perfect!” said the vice-chancellor.
I modestly agreed, and assured him that I was very excited about working on his website. Which I was, and possibly am.
“You ready to move here?”
I said that while I was very happy with the salary they had in mind, if I stayed where I was, it didn’t seem to me to be the kind of salary a person would be expected to move for.
He went into a practiced speech about the benefits, what a great place it was to work in, and how well I’d fit in. It sounds great, actually.
That’s the possible workplace, up there in the picture. The v-c’s office is about four feet square. He has two monitors side by side on his desk. He showed me the CMS; it’s as cute as a puppy. I love it. It would be such fun for me. What’s more, they have a new website they’ll be launching in January, and it is exactly what they’d have gotten if they had taken all the advice I had for them.
“You actually want physical presence?” I asked him. “Why?” We were getting on like a house afire at that point — he’d recoved from his alarm when I had moved in and asked “Could I view your source?” — and I felt I could be direct.
At this point he said the he realized that wasn’t the norm, and that there wasn’t a single thing I could do there that I couldn’t do at home, but apparently they’d tried letting the web team work from home, and it seemed like discrimination to the other staff.
Yep, the administrative assistants and nurses and stuff felt that they should get to stay home if the writers did.
It’s very flat there .
They have an office up here. I suggested that if fairness was the issue, then I could go in every day to the local office.
It didn’t seem to the v-c that that would work.
“So,” I said, “would you say that it’s impossible?”
“Not impossible. Just improbable.”
Much depends on the new Web Center Director. He encouraged me to apply for that position. I told him incautiously that it didn’t look like as much fun, but he said it was better paying. And then of course I could allow the writers to work from home. Here’s the description of that job:
“The Web Center Director will supervise and participate in the development of software for the creation and maintenance of the official web site; supervise the development of page design and graphics for official web pages; supervise and participate in the development of policies and procedures. Develop and monitor tracking system to measure effectiveness of web site in acquiring patients and other targeted customers; continually update and improve the web site utilizing the content management system and new developments in applications of technology; develop, implement, and manage content management system. Supervise the development of training manuals and classes for content and management team members; act as webmaster/web team leader; assist co-chairs and facilitate the activities of the clinical web center operations committee and carry out committee recommendations. Develop implement and monitor annual budget for Web center; develop plan to ensure future funding; stay abreast of web-related technological, creative and media advances and trends in the advertising, communications, higher education and health care and modify departmental resources to best take advantage of those that help accomplish goals of institution.”
I mean, I can certainly do those things, but it doesn’t sound amusing, does it? And I bet that person never gets to work from home.
I survived the drive, since I wasn’t driving. I was talking to #1 daughter on the phone at one point, trying to work out a meet up, and I had to say, “Oh, we’re driving on this horrible road–“
“Close your eyes and I’ll talk to you,” she said in a soothing voice, as of one accustomed to talking to crazy people. “You’re not driving, so you don’t have to look at it.”
Over lunch, she told us they’d had four murders last week. She has decided to go into environmental law, on the theory that there will be fewer photographs of mutilated children to look at in that field. She has all As in school, and we’re very proud of her.
She thinks I should go ahead and move. In fact, she thinks I should apply for the admin job. The v-c thought that I could work down there for six months and then probably be fine working at a distance. “Once the chancellor has confidence.” No one who has worked with me for a week would worry that I wouldn’t work just as steadily if I were at home, or in a tree house for that matter. Maybe I can move into the dorms for six months. No? A hotel? There’s one right there near the hospital. I could walk to work.
In some ways, this is simple: I’m happily but nervously self-employed and I’m up for a good job that I would really like. During an international economic meltdown. I should take it if it’s offered to me. I can still do my ten hours a week of freelance work, and I just won’t have to worry about searching for more than that.
Both jobs sound great… And I have no answer to the conundrums, alas. ~x~
It does seem rather odd that they’d want you to pick up and move when it’s obviously a job you could do from home….
Isn’t it wonderful to be told you’re perfect?
The job sounds perfect except for the driving.
Maybe you should explain to them about agoraphobia.
I think working at the local office is the perfect compromise. Perfect for them and as perfect as you’re going to get.
Good luck, whatever the decision.
@lostarts – Thanks! The site is about 3 hours from my home, so I can’t see commuting. Perhaps agoraphobia would count as a disability and explain why I got special treatment. On the other hand, I always worry that it’ll make people think I’m daft, so I just don’t mention it in job interviews.
@princess_smartypants – Totally! I mean, why would they even want me there? Just another desk to squeeze in.
@pink_hebe – Do you work in a basement full of IT guys? If so, how od you like it? You make it sound reasonably fun, actually, leaving aside the occasional issues with India.
@fibermom – Well, I’m no longer in a basement, and have almost natural light. That’s practically a dealbreaker: the window may be frosted & slatted, but I know when the sun is shining. I was quite upset when I got moved from the third floor (could see the sky) to the ground floor (could see a bit of sky through the blind, but not much), to the bunker (skylight) and then really bunkered (I needed to escape the helpdesk who would insist on interrupting every five minutes and, frankly, no window was vastly preferable). There’s no servers in with us (Infrastructure), since they are in the Server Room, and I have some control over the aircon (on days when I don’t, I have gloves and a cashmere shawl). What we call D’s old office was a really dark gloomy basement room, but still didn’t have any server racks in there, so not too cold. I can’t imagine being in the server room for much more than 15 mins at a time, as it’s freeeeeeeeeeeezing in there – so I think it’s unlikely that the basement has all the servers in it. It’s probably cool just due to the fact that guys like it cold. The guys are lovely, for the most part, but a little to a lot wild on occasion, and it can get quite noisy. We’re British. It goes with the territory. There’s oodles of tea and coffee too, and we have a steady supply of chocolate. Most of the guys have two monitors at their desks and the nature of our work means we still get interrupted by the Desktop Team at random moments. However, when interviewing, very few people make it in to see us until they’ve got to second rounds.
I got told off by our DBA this morning for crunching Japanese Rice Crackers (spicy & good): apparently it was a bit noisy. However, our DBA promptly split milk from his second breakfast all over his desk, so it evened out.
Does that help at all? Thing is, no two places are alike, and I’ve only ever worked here. But I do like working with IT guys, and every IT guy department I’ve visited has been friendly.
~x~
if you were in the basement with the servers, but I know it’s the basement, so I’m assuming the servers. That may not be true at all. Of course, The Computer Guy sits in his office clicking away with Sukey on the other side of the room also clicking away. Their server isn’t present, and they have windows, but the person who does the coding and I (I’m in the “content” box) are also not usually present. If I’m there, there are generally meetings taking place, and when I first arrive, there is usually just a lot of silence while Sukey and The Computer Guy click away, so I guess it’s not so bad.
Especially if there’s a steady supply of tea and chocolate.
Maybe I could buy enough cashmere to knit a shawl, and take it off my taxes.
I actually have never seen a server. As I understand it, The Computer Guy’s team uses a magic server in Atlanta. When I wrote the press releases about it, I know that I had to ask, “Is this a physical object we’re talking about?” This is because there were boxes being drawn on the marker board, but everything that gets to the point of drawing on the marker board in The Computer Guy’s office involves boxes, and they’re usually metaphorical. However, I know that the IT guys in the old IBM building in town (now a web firm) work in the server room, in heavy jackets. The IT guys at the college where I’m teaching work in what appears to be a component graveyard, with electronica stacked up all over the place and little pathways so they can get out in case of a fire. But it’s not cold.