"What is this?" I held my hands over the stack of
paper as if it was infected while waiting for an answer.
"What we talked about yesterday, it's a simple mockup but a good starting point." He brushed a piece of white lint from his impeccable blue suit while matter-of-factly delivering the answer.
"I didn't expect anything so soon. I mean, I mean we didn't discuss this until late last night - as we were leaving." A sudden wave of panic covered me as I quickly realized I felt threatened. I shrugged it off as he spoke.
"Well, I know, but I was a bit excited so I worked on it last night - after supper." He leaned back and straightened his tie while holding his left foot out to examine the shiny black shoe.
"Oh, I see." I mumbled as I really didn't understand how this could have happened. My mind returned to the previous evening. I suppressed a smile as I remembered arriving home and jumping in bed with the wife. Later, we fixed dinner while discussing our days and the kids delivered the highlights of their day over the meal. After the dishes, we took a walk and I spent some more time with the kids, took a shower and then off to bed. Really, there wasn't a minute in the evening where I could have worked - or even contemplated it.
"Yeah, so I think we could keep the budget low by using offshore resources as I outline on page eleven." He nods toward the stack of papers that I still haven't disturbed.
"Great idea." I have the sudden urge to slam the overzealous pile into the trash bin and kick him out, but I continue to smile while finally touching the paper. Did he just say page eleven? How the hell do you assemble such information so quickly? I pick up the pile and mentally weigh it with my hand - estimated thirty pages. I remember typing a ten page paper in college only hours before it was due, but it had been pure bullshit - was this bullshit? I pull back the first page and notice its impeccable presentation.
"Yeah, I love my new Mac - this stuff is easy to churn out." He continues to smile and the cockiness begins to turn my stomach.
"Well, great, I'll take a look and talk to you later." I purposely end the sentence so he knows to get up and get out of my office. He takes the cue and leaves with a slight nod. I search for a flaw, anything, in his appearance and dress but it there is nothing.
A quick glance over the report affirms its quality. I wonder how such work can seem so effortless. I turn in the chair and lean back and stare into the parking lot. His office, yes that office, had always bothered me. It is overflowing with personal items like a room in somebody's home. I mentally scan the room and sit up straight as I think I've discovered his secret.
An odd thing about such a personal space - his office - is the lack of photographs. There is no pictures of a spouse, kids, family, pets, vacations, or anything. You may wonder why? Therein lies his secret, he has none of those distractions to monopolize his time both during and after normal business hours.
My mind travels back to my first days after college - I loved that small apartment where it was just me. I came and went as I pleased and had plenty of time to soak up new information and my productivity was always sky high. I remember shaking my head at my older co-workers who could never keep up. I enjoy my life with work just a small part of it, but work was my younger counterpart's life. I wonder which way is best as my attention is broken by the ringing of the telephone. I glance at the caller id and smile while answering it.
"Hey honey, what's up? Busy, no, what's going on?"
"What we talked about yesterday, it's a simple mockup but a good starting point." He brushed a piece of white lint from his impeccable blue suit while matter-of-factly delivering the answer.
"I didn't expect anything so soon. I mean, I mean we didn't discuss this until late last night - as we were leaving." A sudden wave of panic covered me as I quickly realized I felt threatened. I shrugged it off as he spoke.
"Well, I know, but I was a bit excited so I worked on it last night - after supper." He leaned back and straightened his tie while holding his left foot out to examine the shiny black shoe.
"Oh, I see." I mumbled as I really didn't understand how this could have happened. My mind returned to the previous evening. I suppressed a smile as I remembered arriving home and jumping in bed with the wife. Later, we fixed dinner while discussing our days and the kids delivered the highlights of their day over the meal. After the dishes, we took a walk and I spent some more time with the kids, took a shower and then off to bed. Really, there wasn't a minute in the evening where I could have worked - or even contemplated it.
"Yeah, so I think we could keep the budget low by using offshore resources as I outline on page eleven." He nods toward the stack of papers that I still haven't disturbed.
"Great idea." I have the sudden urge to slam the overzealous pile into the trash bin and kick him out, but I continue to smile while finally touching the paper. Did he just say page eleven? How the hell do you assemble such information so quickly? I pick up the pile and mentally weigh it with my hand - estimated thirty pages. I remember typing a ten page paper in college only hours before it was due, but it had been pure bullshit - was this bullshit? I pull back the first page and notice its impeccable presentation.
"Yeah, I love my new Mac - this stuff is easy to churn out." He continues to smile and the cockiness begins to turn my stomach.
"Well, great, I'll take a look and talk to you later." I purposely end the sentence so he knows to get up and get out of my office. He takes the cue and leaves with a slight nod. I search for a flaw, anything, in his appearance and dress but it there is nothing.
A quick glance over the report affirms its quality. I wonder how such work can seem so effortless. I turn in the chair and lean back and stare into the parking lot. His office, yes that office, had always bothered me. It is overflowing with personal items like a room in somebody's home. I mentally scan the room and sit up straight as I think I've discovered his secret.
An odd thing about such a personal space - his office - is the lack of photographs. There is no pictures of a spouse, kids, family, pets, vacations, or anything. You may wonder why? Therein lies his secret, he has none of those distractions to monopolize his time both during and after normal business hours.
My mind travels back to my first days after college - I loved that small apartment where it was just me. I came and went as I pleased and had plenty of time to soak up new information and my productivity was always sky high. I remember shaking my head at my older co-workers who could never keep up. I enjoy my life with work just a small part of it, but work was my younger counterpart's life. I wonder which way is best as my attention is broken by the ringing of the telephone. I glance at the caller id and smile while answering it.
"Hey honey, what's up? Busy, no, what's going on?"
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