So this one's not so much about cancer. But maybe it is. I didn't sleep well at all last night. Had a bunch of those weird dreams where you know you're dreaming but you're not really asleep either. Seems to be a benzo thing. It's been happening a lot lately. I am completely stressed out about the cats. I have no idea why. My fears about food did come to fruition - it wasn't too terrible, but the rich and/or unpredictable food is taking a toll.
My big meeting went pretty well. Last year was crazy - people were really fighting about the site that I manage for work. It was uncomfortable, but incredibly productive. When I step back and look at it, even though I got spanked pretty hard it was a really good thing to know that thirty incredibly smart people that I respect deeply truly care about the thing I do enough to fight over it. That's kind of huge.
This year was much more polite. I'm not sure how much of it was that we're doing better, or that people were being nice to the cancer lady. Dunno. It wound up and down much more quickly than I expected it to. But it felt like a good conversation.
Now I'm back in my room. I am exhausted. Much more emotionally drained than I expected to be, I think. A little sad. I got to see most of the people I wanted to see. I even stopped in at another party before coming back to the hotel.
My big goals for this week were:
1. Get through this meeting tonight. Even though it's technically the job I've been promoted out of, it's been my baby since 2005, and this meeting has been the most important day of my work year since then. And even though Tonya's fully ready to take over the job, she doesn't have all the keys to the kingdom yet (corporate bureaucratic bullshit), so we're in this weird middle place for a couple of months.
2. See my friends. Got a good start on it, much more to come.
3. Make all the introductions I can to ensure a graceful exit in the next couple of months. This is both easy and hard.
It's weird. Even though I've been running this website for several years, and have a team of 4-6 people who work for me (depending on how you count), they aren't O employees - everybody is a contractor of some flavor. And I am the most non--micromanagey person ever. I don't think of myself as a manager in a traditional way - maybe because there's no framework for HR or any of the stuff that goes with it. But these people do work for me. I tell them what to do, they get paid for doing it. I have had an amazing run of luck in hiring or inheriting people who are just plain awesome to work with.
So now here I am, in this mental place where I have to think about this in a deeper way. There has always been the possibility that I could get hit by a bus, right? But now the bus is hitting me in slow motion. My general thinking about how to be a good manager has evolved over the years. I think my number one job is to make it possible for the people who work for me to do their jobs in the most comfortable way for them. If they are productive and happy, I am productive and happy, so it is in my best interest to keep them that way. But flip that coin and the other side looks good too - I think that in a lot of ways the best leaders plan for their eventual obsolescence. It makes sense as a management philosophy - especially in a field like community management. I want to build a team that can operate independently. That's a good thing. It's not so different than good parenting - the idea that you need to prepare your child to not need you.
Putting that in practice is hard. Graceful exit? Graceful exit to what? 6 weeks off for a bilateral mastectomy? 6 months off for surgery and the really brutal chemo still to come? Just going ahead and dying at some point in the next year? I like none of these options. All of these options are extremely real.
How did I get this far and not really talk about death? Not really think about it? Don't worry (more than you are) this is not some great depressive cry for help. It's just the reality of the situation. I'm an idiot and and asshole if I don't address that.
So, back to the parties tonight. Goal number 3 - make all the introductions I can to ensure a graceful exit in the next few months. Easy and hard. Hi person X, who is probably surprised by my baldness and cancer-havingness, please meet M and T, who will be taking over in my future absence.
So many mixed feelings there. Pride (I guess?) that I know they can handle it without me. Sad that I know it's going to be hard for them to handle it without me. They are perfectly capable, but just don't have the institutional knowledge that I do. A real kick in the gut - is this the last time I do this thing?
If it's the last time I do this thing is it because I was promoted away from it, got a new job, or died? All of those things are possibilities. And so is everything being pretty much the same except I have better hair and boobs this time next year.
I don't know. I do know that I am several steps farther down the path of letting go tonight than I was this morning. The open question is still - what exactly am I letting go of?
My big meeting went pretty well. Last year was crazy - people were really fighting about the site that I manage for work. It was uncomfortable, but incredibly productive. When I step back and look at it, even though I got spanked pretty hard it was a really good thing to know that thirty incredibly smart people that I respect deeply truly care about the thing I do enough to fight over it. That's kind of huge.
This year was much more polite. I'm not sure how much of it was that we're doing better, or that people were being nice to the cancer lady. Dunno. It wound up and down much more quickly than I expected it to. But it felt like a good conversation.
Now I'm back in my room. I am exhausted. Much more emotionally drained than I expected to be, I think. A little sad. I got to see most of the people I wanted to see. I even stopped in at another party before coming back to the hotel.
My big goals for this week were:
1. Get through this meeting tonight. Even though it's technically the job I've been promoted out of, it's been my baby since 2005, and this meeting has been the most important day of my work year since then. And even though Tonya's fully ready to take over the job, she doesn't have all the keys to the kingdom yet (corporate bureaucratic bullshit), so we're in this weird middle place for a couple of months.
2. See my friends. Got a good start on it, much more to come.
3. Make all the introductions I can to ensure a graceful exit in the next couple of months. This is both easy and hard.
It's weird. Even though I've been running this website for several years, and have a team of 4-6 people who work for me (depending on how you count), they aren't O employees - everybody is a contractor of some flavor. And I am the most non--micromanagey person ever. I don't think of myself as a manager in a traditional way - maybe because there's no framework for HR or any of the stuff that goes with it. But these people do work for me. I tell them what to do, they get paid for doing it. I have had an amazing run of luck in hiring or inheriting people who are just plain awesome to work with.
So now here I am, in this mental place where I have to think about this in a deeper way. There has always been the possibility that I could get hit by a bus, right? But now the bus is hitting me in slow motion. My general thinking about how to be a good manager has evolved over the years. I think my number one job is to make it possible for the people who work for me to do their jobs in the most comfortable way for them. If they are productive and happy, I am productive and happy, so it is in my best interest to keep them that way. But flip that coin and the other side looks good too - I think that in a lot of ways the best leaders plan for their eventual obsolescence. It makes sense as a management philosophy - especially in a field like community management. I want to build a team that can operate independently. That's a good thing. It's not so different than good parenting - the idea that you need to prepare your child to not need you.
Putting that in practice is hard. Graceful exit? Graceful exit to what? 6 weeks off for a bilateral mastectomy? 6 months off for surgery and the really brutal chemo still to come? Just going ahead and dying at some point in the next year? I like none of these options. All of these options are extremely real.
How did I get this far and not really talk about death? Not really think about it? Don't worry (more than you are) this is not some great depressive cry for help. It's just the reality of the situation. I'm an idiot and and asshole if I don't address that.
So, back to the parties tonight. Goal number 3 - make all the introductions I can to ensure a graceful exit in the next few months. Easy and hard. Hi person X, who is probably surprised by my baldness and cancer-havingness, please meet M and T, who will be taking over in my future absence.
So many mixed feelings there. Pride (I guess?) that I know they can handle it without me. Sad that I know it's going to be hard for them to handle it without me. They are perfectly capable, but just don't have the institutional knowledge that I do. A real kick in the gut - is this the last time I do this thing?
If it's the last time I do this thing is it because I was promoted away from it, got a new job, or died? All of those things are possibilities. And so is everything being pretty much the same except I have better hair and boobs this time next year.
I don't know. I do know that I am several steps farther down the path of letting go tonight than I was this morning. The open question is still - what exactly am I letting go of?
Hey you. I don't have cancer, but I empathize with you about the death part and the mixed feelings. I don't know what's going to happen to me either and it's a little bit strange sometimes to think about. So mostly I don't think about it, I just keep on keeping on.
ReplyDeleteHopefully we'll both grow old, who knows? You're the best, internet friend.
I know you do. I think you have to keep on, or you fall into the hole. I do not want to fall into the hole. So let's balance on the edge together. :)
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