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Thursday, October 20, 2011

Little things mean a lot...

Yesterday, someone hacked into my computer. Well, not exactly hacked. They were sitting at my desk, keeping it warm until I got back from lunch and someone wanted an answer that was in my computer. A big shot executive vice president. Well, my lunch relief turned into a blithering idiot instead of someone who's grown up enough to hold a damn JOB and tore my reference books apart until she found an old password I had written down because I needed a temp and I, unlike the rest of the universe (or the universe at THIS company) am forced to hand over my password because setting up a benign profile under the name of, or, I dunno, how's "TEMP" sound, is beyond the capabilities of the MIS department here.

We spend hours in security classes where the mantra "NEVER give ANYONE your password" is drummed into us, ad nauseum. We sign papers indicating we understand this. We sign papers indicating that we understand that going into someone else's computer is a firing offense, no warnings, no nothing, just "don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out" firing. We sign papers saying that no one, never, ever, in this company will ever, ever go into your computer for information because that makes your email accessible and that's a HUGE corporate no-no. Unless the company is being sued and you're specifically named in the suit and the suit alleges you sent something via the e-mail. Unless, of course, you work in MY department where security is important to everyone unless you're dealing with me, in which case, what's the big deal?

So she finds an old password, figures out it's probably a pattern and after one or two tried she got in to my signed out desktop so the steamroller executive could have the information she refused to wait FIVE MINUTES for. The idiot who couldn't say "sorry, I don't have her password and I can be fired for signing on to her computer without her permission, she's due back in five minutes, hang on" found the outdated password on the aforementioned copy of a note I had left the temp...a note which, by the way, had BOTH my HOME NUMBER and my CELL NUMBER on it. MUCH better to just surmise a password and fire up someone else's computer than pick up the damn PHONE, no?

THEN came the teary eyed "Oh, I'm SO sorry, I didn't know what to do, she's entitled to do that" explanation. Um, BULLSHIT lady. MICKEY MOUSE isn't allowed to hack into Disney computers.
 No, I don't work for Disney but the point is valid.

Not wanting to get the moron fired, I place a couple of well intentioned complaints to be told "oh gee, that's too bad, have I told you about my sister in law?" which translates to "Uh, lady, don't complain to me, you aren't  entitled to the same courtesy the rest of us give each other so shut the hell up." I went home, made a drink and a batch of cookies and figured it would dissipate by morning. It hasn't.

I am becoming more and more aware of how important respect for others is, and how the smallest thing can destroy trust. I always liked the girl. I'm having trouble being civil to her. SHE knew better. BUT...since is was just ME, she had no qualms getting into my desktop...NOR did the executive who wanted her to do it. Because I'm not worthy of the courtesy the give one another. I'm the bottom of the food chain and have been for almost five years. I have a degree, a certificate and a functioning brain but I'm labeled by my title. Yesterday's small event served to really drive that point home. I know full well that incident would never have happened to anyone but me. I'm the one who doesn't matter.

This morning the hubster got up and went in to work. No, it's not the big bonanza. He was asked by a former employer if he could come in and help with an annual project. This morning, he was up early, showered, shaved, dressed and headed out the door before I did. He stood a little straighter, his hair was a little neater, his whole demeanor a little brighter. It was good to see.

My older son, who I saw at lunchtime was also a little taller. Instead of sitting home all day waiting for something to happen while he watches game shows and listens to the radio, he took it upon himself to accomplish things. I'm getting the occasional call from him..."I'm taking that stack of mail on the table to the post office now" and "I'm going to the store, we're out of milk." Now yes, I fret, he has some health issues and I'm a bit nervous when he's home alone. But he's a young man, of legal age and a couple of years past that, and this little thing, this day with both mom and dad at work, has made him just a bit better, a bit brighter.

Everyone needs a purpose, even if it's just a temp job or going for milk without having someone telling you to. It's like going for a walk. I don't mind going for a walk if I'm going somewhere (and I'm not wearing those gold flats that pinch). We need a destination. When we get there, we need a reason to come home. It's not that much to ask when it comes right down to it. Give me somewhere to go, and give me a reason to look forward to coming home.

It's the smallest things that make the biggest difference. 

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