Lordy, Lordy
For the last several years, I've worked in a very small, compartmentalized department at work. When I was teaching, I was part of a large department, but as forensics coach, my office was on the other end of campus, and I really only spent time with the other coach.
Working in television, I was part of a newsroom, but I was part of a two or three person sports department, usually located in a different area of the building than the newsroom.
Now, in my new world at the nonprofit, I'm once again part of a small three-person department. It's just me, the graphic artist, and the vice president of communication.
Honestly, it's one of my favorite parts of the job. I've become less and less social over the years, and it's nice to spend most of my time with the same three people.
Even better, We're all very close in age. Our graphic artist is about five months older than me, and our V.P. is only a year and a half older than me. Compare that to my last job, where our sports director was 10 years younger than me, and the other weekend anchor was about 15 years younger. Yikes.
It's really nice to work with people my own age. Sure, they both have kids and have different priorities in their lives, but we have a lot in common. Discovering gray hairs, for example. Or recently discovering that we can't bend over without making "argh" noises.
Well today, our V.P. turned 40. Our graphic artist gave her hell. The entire administrative headquarters was plastered with posters and flyers of our V.P. with the grim reaper. Black balloons filled her office. I tried to stay out of it as much as possible. After all, I hit the big four-oh in 17 months. I'd like it to pass without notice.
She took it very well. She called the posters "cute," laughed at her arrangement of black balloons, and dealt with the constant teasing about geritol, depends, and reading glasses. For what it's worth, she could probably pass for 30... which I'm sure helped, too.
Just the same, I checked a calendar the first chance I could. I turn 40 on a Sunday.
Whew.
Working in television, I was part of a newsroom, but I was part of a two or three person sports department, usually located in a different area of the building than the newsroom.
Now, in my new world at the nonprofit, I'm once again part of a small three-person department. It's just me, the graphic artist, and the vice president of communication.
Honestly, it's one of my favorite parts of the job. I've become less and less social over the years, and it's nice to spend most of my time with the same three people.
Even better, We're all very close in age. Our graphic artist is about five months older than me, and our V.P. is only a year and a half older than me. Compare that to my last job, where our sports director was 10 years younger than me, and the other weekend anchor was about 15 years younger. Yikes.
It's really nice to work with people my own age. Sure, they both have kids and have different priorities in their lives, but we have a lot in common. Discovering gray hairs, for example. Or recently discovering that we can't bend over without making "argh" noises.
Well today, our V.P. turned 40. Our graphic artist gave her hell. The entire administrative headquarters was plastered with posters and flyers of our V.P. with the grim reaper. Black balloons filled her office. I tried to stay out of it as much as possible. After all, I hit the big four-oh in 17 months. I'd like it to pass without notice.
She took it very well. She called the posters "cute," laughed at her arrangement of black balloons, and dealt with the constant teasing about geritol, depends, and reading glasses. For what it's worth, she could probably pass for 30... which I'm sure helped, too.
Just the same, I checked a calendar the first chance I could. I turn 40 on a Sunday.
Whew.
Labels: Life at the NPO
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