Saturday, April 28, 2007
Ah, springtime in New York. I met up with some friends attending a conference in Times Square, went to Chelsea for a vegan lunch, then went out for a nice walk and attended a street fair. We soaked in the glorious spring weather and had a drink in the Marquis’s bar overlooking Times Square before I headed back to my place.
To further enjoy the day, I decided to go for a run. Not knowing if it was the perfectly cool weather or just having had a nice lunch, the run felt great and I picked up speed. Soaring around the Onassis reservoir, peering at the majestic buildings on the Upper West Side and admiring the many flowering trees I deviated slightly off the path to avoid a puddle.
I’m not sure what exactly it was that did it. But all of a sudden it seemed like my feet flew out from under me. I went flying face-first onto the ground in what seemed like slow motion. I watched my glasses fly off my face as my body soared through the air and onto the ground.
I’m not sure if the fall or the embarrassment hurt more. But there I was, bloody, dirty, and trying to collect myself in a sea of exercising New Yorkers and tourists; thank God for the indifference of my fellow man to tragedy (not a single blinked). As I brushed myself off I came to the realization that I was still pretty far from home and had to continue the run in my current state. So, looking like a homeless person that crawled out from under the Brooklyn Bridge, I continued the run.
When I finally got home I started the painful process of cleaning the dirt and pebbles out of my wounds. It was the perfect end to the perfect day.
It’s time for a glass of wine.
To further enjoy the day, I decided to go for a run. Not knowing if it was the perfectly cool weather or just having had a nice lunch, the run felt great and I picked up speed. Soaring around the Onassis reservoir, peering at the majestic buildings on the Upper West Side and admiring the many flowering trees I deviated slightly off the path to avoid a puddle.
I’m not sure what exactly it was that did it. But all of a sudden it seemed like my feet flew out from under me. I went flying face-first onto the ground in what seemed like slow motion. I watched my glasses fly off my face as my body soared through the air and onto the ground.
I’m not sure if the fall or the embarrassment hurt more. But there I was, bloody, dirty, and trying to collect myself in a sea of exercising New Yorkers and tourists; thank God for the indifference of my fellow man to tragedy (not a single blinked). As I brushed myself off I came to the realization that I was still pretty far from home and had to continue the run in my current state. So, looking like a homeless person that crawled out from under the Brooklyn Bridge, I continued the run.
When I finally got home I started the painful process of cleaning the dirt and pebbles out of my wounds. It was the perfect end to the perfect day.
It’s time for a glass of wine.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
FUCK YOU AND FUCK OFF
In a company full of melodrama, I should not have been surprised that they would come to shock me again; this will be the last time.
I was basically bribed in to staying with the promise of a $200k+ salary; and it was with guarded optimism that I accepted their money and promises of management changes. Did they really understand what they were offering me? What would the details look like? When will I get this in writing?
They waited two weeks and finally came back with some modifying details, the most dramatic of which being that they would not pay me the raise in salary, but in bonus. In fact, they would prefer to pay me in company equity (private equity, which is worthless) but were good enough to leave that choice up to me.
I was LIVID. I was assuming the salary change meant I would become and SVP, which, in addition to the salary, entitles me to equity. They also had the nerve to tell this to me two fucking weeks after their verbal counter offer, AND after I told the company that previously made me an offer that I was going to stay put. . . . they waited until I had no negotiating power. These shady, slimy mother fuckers can take their money and shove it up their ass.
Fortunately, I’d never stopped the recruiting engine. Further interviews had, coincidentally, provided me with another offer that would enable me to immediately tell this company to FUCK OFF that same day.
In a short e-mail I wrote:
---------------
"Subject: resignation
After much thought about the evolving counter-offer, I've decided to leave the company after all. At the end of the day, it’s not about the money.
Attached is my letter of resignation. My last day here will be May 1st. "
---------------
And then someone else in the department (who I helped to find something) quit the same day. With one person quitting after the first two weeks, another being fired a few weeks ago, and the two of us quitting this week, that’s pretty much the demise of the department.
Many thought it was some sort of coup, but really they fucked themselves by treating us like inmates in a prison camp. With all the nefarious management and underperformers sticking around and all the rest of us leaving, water is seeking its own level.
And that, as they say, is that. The CEO, like a small child, is not talking to me. If he needs something from me he asks other to talk to me about it.
Thank God I’m out of that shit hole.
I was basically bribed in to staying with the promise of a $200k+ salary; and it was with guarded optimism that I accepted their money and promises of management changes. Did they really understand what they were offering me? What would the details look like? When will I get this in writing?
They waited two weeks and finally came back with some modifying details, the most dramatic of which being that they would not pay me the raise in salary, but in bonus. In fact, they would prefer to pay me in company equity (private equity, which is worthless) but were good enough to leave that choice up to me.
I was LIVID. I was assuming the salary change meant I would become and SVP, which, in addition to the salary, entitles me to equity. They also had the nerve to tell this to me two fucking weeks after their verbal counter offer, AND after I told the company that previously made me an offer that I was going to stay put. . . . they waited until I had no negotiating power. These shady, slimy mother fuckers can take their money and shove it up their ass.
Fortunately, I’d never stopped the recruiting engine. Further interviews had, coincidentally, provided me with another offer that would enable me to immediately tell this company to FUCK OFF that same day.
In a short e-mail I wrote:
---------------
"Subject: resignation
After much thought about the evolving counter-offer, I've decided to leave the company after all. At the end of the day, it’s not about the money.
Attached is my letter of resignation. My last day here will be May 1st. "
---------------
And then someone else in the department (who I helped to find something) quit the same day. With one person quitting after the first two weeks, another being fired a few weeks ago, and the two of us quitting this week, that’s pretty much the demise of the department.
Many thought it was some sort of coup, but really they fucked themselves by treating us like inmates in a prison camp. With all the nefarious management and underperformers sticking around and all the rest of us leaving, water is seeking its own level.
And that, as they say, is that. The CEO, like a small child, is not talking to me. If he needs something from me he asks other to talk to me about it.
Thank God I’m out of that shit hole.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
selling out?
The very prospect of making the kind of money they offered to me is pretty damn appealing. What to do? I decided went into my boss’s office and said: “Okay, I’m in.” With that, he jumped up and hugged me.
Bla, blab bla. . . we talked about this and that and in the back of my mind I was feeling like Michael Jackson selling out to do a Coke ad – if you recall, his afro was set on fire during the shoot.
So it really should have been a celebration, though I’ve yet to see anything in writing, which I’m told will come this week. And I remain jaded and -- like a shark -- continue hunting and swimming, even while asleep. I’ve also been talking to other employers. So if they fuck me over again, I have another backup that can start another bidding war.
But at this point, if what my current employer says is true, I would be a fool to walk away from this money. I have a feeling they’ll basically use me for a year and then fire me. But with that salary, I can afford to save a shitload of money and dramatically change my lifestyle. For the time-being, I’ve sold out. . . . all the way to the bank.
Bla, blab bla. . . we talked about this and that and in the back of my mind I was feeling like Michael Jackson selling out to do a Coke ad – if you recall, his afro was set on fire during the shoot.
So it really should have been a celebration, though I’ve yet to see anything in writing, which I’m told will come this week. And I remain jaded and -- like a shark -- continue hunting and swimming, even while asleep. I’ve also been talking to other employers. So if they fuck me over again, I have another backup that can start another bidding war.
But at this point, if what my current employer says is true, I would be a fool to walk away from this money. I have a feeling they’ll basically use me for a year and then fire me. But with that salary, I can afford to save a shitload of money and dramatically change my lifestyle. For the time-being, I’ve sold out. . . . all the way to the bank.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
On the horns of a dilemma
The roller coaster which is my work-life continues. Last week I got my official offer letter. With bells, I marched into work to end the hell constantly inflicted upon me. I walked into my new boss’s office. . .
“Well, I’m just going to cut to the chase. I’m resigning. I really don’t think the culture here fits my personality.”
The bomb was dropped, and for the first time in a while, I had the upper hand. They are fucked without me. While all these fucking managers hold meetings, schmooze with the CEO, I’m in the back making all their ideas happen, rolling up my sleeves and doing the dirty work. Fuck them. I can go to a company that understands the complexity of the work I do, creates a career path for me, and treats people with an iota dignity.
I’d never felt more free.
My boss then came back to me later that day with a smirk on his face. For some reason I didn’t think they would counter my offer with anything other then perhaps another piltry raise. Then the figure came out.
Oh my fucking god. He offered to nearly double my salary. I had to laugh in his face. “This place is crazy.” I said.
While part of me was shocked at the prospect of making that kind of money, part of me totally understands the psychology. I could see the CEO thinking, becoming disgusted with the idea that some other company would have more resources than he, that they could lure away the talent of this company, that there was more interesting work elsewhere, that there were more intelligent people to work with. He is fuming over it, thinking about the professor – his longtime friend – referring candidates to him that he could not keep. He would be thinking about the person who built a model quantifying the costs of attrition quitting himself. “I will make an example of this: Fuck it”, I could hear him saying, “Double his salary!”
And so it was done. I guess it’s all a complicated problem that I’m glad to have.
“Well, I’m just going to cut to the chase. I’m resigning. I really don’t think the culture here fits my personality.”
The bomb was dropped, and for the first time in a while, I had the upper hand. They are fucked without me. While all these fucking managers hold meetings, schmooze with the CEO, I’m in the back making all their ideas happen, rolling up my sleeves and doing the dirty work. Fuck them. I can go to a company that understands the complexity of the work I do, creates a career path for me, and treats people with an iota dignity.
I’d never felt more free.
My boss then came back to me later that day with a smirk on his face. For some reason I didn’t think they would counter my offer with anything other then perhaps another piltry raise. Then the figure came out.
Oh my fucking god. He offered to nearly double my salary. I had to laugh in his face. “This place is crazy.” I said.
While part of me was shocked at the prospect of making that kind of money, part of me totally understands the psychology. I could see the CEO thinking, becoming disgusted with the idea that some other company would have more resources than he, that they could lure away the talent of this company, that there was more interesting work elsewhere, that there were more intelligent people to work with. He is fuming over it, thinking about the professor – his longtime friend – referring candidates to him that he could not keep. He would be thinking about the person who built a model quantifying the costs of attrition quitting himself. “I will make an example of this: Fuck it”, I could hear him saying, “Double his salary!”
And so it was done. I guess it’s all a complicated problem that I’m glad to have.
Monday, April 02, 2007
So the week began with my Mother coming in on Tuesday night. We went out to dinner at a good French restaurant and capped it off with two bottles of wine. Not getting to bed until after 1am, I drug my ass out of bed for a 4 hour interview with one of the biggest pension funds in the world in their quantitative analysis department.
The following night my dad came in and we saw Andrea Chenier at the Metropolitan Opera. With with Violetta Urmana effortlessly singing the killer aria “La Mamma Morta” (they killed my mother) it was a fine evening at the opera, indeed.
Friday morning I called the fund and asked how things went. They responded with a verbal job offer. Oh my God! Ecstatic about it, I told them I had to think about it. . . you have to play hard-to-get in corporate America, you see. But it seems like a great opportunity.
That night I went to the season premier of Turandot, Puccini’s last and most grand opera. It was marvelous. Andrea Gruber belted out the wicked princess’s role with determination and Hei Kyng Hong sang the sweaping melodies of Liu with effortless beauty. At its bittersweet end, the confetti literally fell on the principals of what was a great day at the opera.
The following night my dad came in and we saw Andrea Chenier at the Metropolitan Opera. With with Violetta Urmana effortlessly singing the killer aria “La Mamma Morta” (they killed my mother) it was a fine evening at the opera, indeed.
Friday morning I called the fund and asked how things went. They responded with a verbal job offer. Oh my God! Ecstatic about it, I told them I had to think about it. . . you have to play hard-to-get in corporate America, you see. But it seems like a great opportunity.
That night I went to the season premier of Turandot, Puccini’s last and most grand opera. It was marvelous. Andrea Gruber belted out the wicked princess’s role with determination and Hei Kyng Hong sang the sweaping melodies of Liu with effortless beauty. At its bittersweet end, the confetti literally fell on the principals of what was a great day at the opera.
I think I’m going to take the job. I want something in writing before I tell my current employer, se we’ll see.
“Give me free!”
“Give me free!”
The Met's production of "Turandot"
$400,000,000,000
Four hundred billion dollars.
