Sleep Numbers
With a little time to kill before a movie, Katy and I visited a store in our local mall that sold those high-end beds that let you digitally manipulate the firmness of your mattress. They have a highly structured sales process in which they demonstrate the bed for you.
The salesperson keeps the control in their hand for the first half of this presentation. They start with the bed set to a very uncomfortable extreme (at least for most people). They talk for a while explaining some things about the bed, and then begin decreasing the firmness of the mattress until it feels comfortable. It's easy to imagine a dialogue going something like this.
So lay down. Now, this is the highest setting.
Oh, this is very uncomfortable. I definitely need a lower setting.
Sure. You can change the firmness with this control I have in my hand.
Please, make it softer. Or give me the control, I'd be happy to experiment. This is so very unpleasant.
Before we change anything, though, I want to direct your attention to this screen.
Ow.
The pressure sensors that we have attached to this bed show where your body is being supported.
Please. My lower back is starting to tingle.
Notice all of this pressure placed on your hips and shoulders. There is almost no support being given to your back.
I don't need to see the map to tell me that. I have pressure sensors built into my body. They're called nerve endings. Will you please just hand me the control?
From this we can tell that this isn't a very good setting for you.
I can't feel my legs.
That wasn't my experience, by the way. I found that the closer the mattress was to a sheet or iron, the more comfortable I felt. Whenever the mattress got softer, I felt like my lower back was forced to curl in on itself. My lower back is very independent and doesn't like being forced to do anything.
Waxing Philosophical with World of Warcraft
I've realized something important about myself and how I relate to the rest of the world in my journeys through Azeroth. The biggest revelations have centered around "grouping". Grouping involves loosely confederating with the other rugged individualists who play the game to acheive objectives that are too overwhelming for one person to handle alone. "Soloing" is when you disdain the shackles of this organization and seek glory as a party of one.
With a few notable exceptions, I prefer to solo. In addition to identifying the phenomenon, the World of Warcraft As LifeTM metaphor hints at some possible explanations. In most of the groups of which I have been a part, there is one or two players who simply do not understand how to work well in a group. Perhaps they attract the attention of monsters that are better left alone. Maybe they derive misguided pleasure in laying claim to magical weapons and armor that would be far more useful for another member of the party. Some don't commit any serious flubs, but make inconsiderate comments. These actions bring the whole experience down and make me anxious to dive back into the wilderness with only my trusty axe between me and a legion of fantastic beasts and penny-pinching goblins.
It's not that different from how I feel in my day-to-day life. Working with others brings together a mix of people with different competencies that may or may not complement each other. It's frustrating enough to endure a teammate that doesn't offer anything useful to the collective, and even more draining to be that person. Working in groups can feel like an incredible burden.
For years I've concluded that this means I am an introverted person who prefers not to deal with other people. (Ah, the dangers of self-diagnosis.) I'm beginning to suspect that this only comes close to explaining the situation. Imagine someone who concluded that a fear of drowning should be addressed by refusing to bathe. The solution does address the issue, but it's messy.
I do actually crave and enjoy social interaction with other people. To my great relief, I have come to believe that I can even thrive working with other people towards a common goal. (That's good or the next 60 years or so were going to be very taxing.)
What I require is some part of the whole for which I am responsible. I need complete sovereignty over my objective and clear metrics for evaluating the degree of my success. I don't want to share my task with anyone else. It's mine. Mine, I say! (Well, I'll share with Katy, but she's earned that right. You haven't.)
I have no problem brainstorming and planning with other people. I can handle the challenge of integrating my work with other pieces to assemble a Voltron that can vanquish the larger problem. Under the umbrella of that great success, though, I need to nurture a discrete personal victory.
In the real world that is possible, although it seldom happens by accident. That distinction might be where the World of Warcraft As LifeTM metaphor falls apart.
She Said: Gluten-Free in Aught Six
A few posts down you may have noticed my dear, darling husband’s glowing praise of the “Walking Taco.” Lest any of the readers of this site continue to believe that our switch away from gluten lead us right into the bottom of a Frito bag, the wife would like to clarify a few things.
Let me start by stating, for the internet record, I like Walking Taco. Do I love it? No. Do I think about it early in the afternoon with anticipation of the evening meal to come? Certainly not. Do I even eat it with Fritos? Ah…..no. It is hard to claim that my version of the Walking Taco is anything, but a taco salad. I use totilla chips, taco meat, cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, and sour cream. Put it all in a bowl and viola! But, is that a Walking Taco or a taco salad?
Now, let’s take a look at what my husband does. He uses Fritos, taco meat, and cheese. Put is all in a bowl and viola! Wait!! What?!? Did I say bowl? Why yes….yes, indeed I did. The whole point of calling it a Walking Taco is because you can walk with it all contained in your little Frito Snack bag.
I ask you, people of the internet, is this a true Walking Taco or just a sorry attempt for my husband to remove the word “salad” from anything he consumes?
My Weekend At The Labor Camp
The primary reason I got into a career in computers was to sit at a desk all day and rely on email as my default means of communication. Imagine my surprise this past weekend when I spent 12 hours on Saturday and an additional 12 hours on Sunday carting computer equipment punctuated with running and patching cables and telephone lines. I work for a company that moved to a new building this weekend.
When I arrived home on Sunday at 11pm, I was hobbled through the doorway to the sympathetic (but still highly amused) laughter of my wife. She subdued her chuckling just long enough to give my legs a much needed rub down and make me a late dinner. (Poof! You’re a late dinner.)
I closed me eyes that night with the comfort that tomorrow morning would be relatively painless as our entire organization hit the ground running with little to no interruption from the move…
Only now, on Thursday, four days later have we settled into any kind of equilibrium. I truly believe some of my coworkers really were able to come in Monday and start doing productive work. None of those people were in IT.
I’d be lying if I said the compensation for all this hard work isn’t a little cool. I would have been satisfied getting paid time-and-a-half. I’m even happier, though, with what actually came to pass. For each hour I worked over the weekend, I earned 1.5 hours of vacation time. That means I added just shy of a week to my bank of time off. I’m certainly not anxious to do it again anytime soon, but a week of vacation is really a nine day weekend.
Maybe everyone else would rather have the extra pay. Feel free to hit the comments and speak your peace.
