Category: Work

When the job gets physical

I have a rather sedentary job which involves computer work, a lot of typing, listening, thinking, talking, storing a lot of information to be able to throw it up at the right time, in the right form, or to connect the right people or the right dots, etc. I no longer travel very much and don’t get to meet people a lot to conduct my work. I do not have any RSI hurting my wrists to prevent me from typing, and I love my job and care enough that I happily spend hours at my keyboard. I have a lot of stamina.

But the other day, I had been at my desk for several hours reading feedback and input on Social Media on some very controversial work that W3C recently completed, when it hit me: shaky hands, heart beating a little too fast steadily, and the dizziness. That slight tingle in the back of my throat and nose, the faint metallic taste and smell. It lasted a few seconds. I didn’t faint, but I know the signs.

I carried on with my day but later thought that my job had gotten physical.

Memory of my memoir

My Dad reminded me tonight of that time, just before my twenties, when I had to write a memoir for the end of my studies –a two-year secretarial degree. I had worked as an intern twice a few months in the same Hilton hotel in Cannes, doing admin at the HR office the first year, and doing admin for the CEO the second year.

When it came to writing the memoir about what I had done there, I invented something, because otherwise there wasn’t a lot of glory or interest.

So I came up with a study to enhance efficiency throughout the various departments. The study was genuine; I had witnessed first-hand how the hotel worked and there was room for optimisation. The write-up was coherent and made sense. And I got away with it!

The following year, the hotel manager contacted me to get my approval for a group of local students at a business school to use my work and reorganise the hotel accordingly, which I happily gave. I was quite honoured they had kept it, were considering it seriously, and called to ask!

Anyway, I guess my Dad’s point was that even then I was doing some Comm work, and he went on recalling when years later I was offered to join the W3C Comm team and refused several times because I had no idea what comm work was, and he said “look at you now.” I figure my dad is proud of my ‘career’, as he puts it. And maybe people see in me more than I do.

For #IWD2017, A Day without a Woman

international women's day logo

IWD

International Women’s Day (March 8) is observed world-wide as a day celebrating the social, economic, cultural and political achievements of women (or, as commemoration of the struggle for women’s rights.)

2017 marks the 109th observance of the day.

2017 marks my 1st observance of the day.

How will people observe the day?

I have heard that some have decided to participate by taking personal time to not come into work (volunteering instead for any cause related to social, economic, cultural and political change for women); other people may wear red and/or support women in other ways; and others have suggested that men handed over public speaking to women (cf. Kozlika’s 8 mars, la parole aux femmes.)

How will I observe the day?

I found via my friend and colleague Amy that on Wednesday 8 March, a follow up is planned to the January’s Women’s March: A Day without a Woman.

“A Day without a Woman” gave me pause. It resonated with me.

Considering that I have a lot on my plate at work, I thought of a day mostly without me [at work] that I will implement in the following fashion: I’ll do my work in stealth mode, so I’ll set myself away in IRC, will write or reply to e-mail only if necessary, will not attend WebEx meetings.

I hope to feel inspired in the meantime to produce or create non-work to #BeBoldForChange.

You can help perhaps? If you have a hunch what I might be good at, please, drop a suggestion in the comments.

I support a day without a woman logo

Les lieux familiers (bis)

Vue en hauteur d'une piste d'aéroport, une tour, des voitures et des avions
Je voyage assez souvent (et c’est chouette) et me trouve à l’aise dans les aéroports. Quelque chose de familier, d’interchangeable, qui me sied. 

On n’a pas besoin d’y parler trop. C’est reposant. On s’y perd rarement sauf happé dans des rêveries. J’ai un bon bouquin et quand je ne lis pas, j’observe les gens. 

Je regarde souvent ma pellicule photos de téléphone intelligent : il est claffi de photos prises d’avion ou d’aéroport. 

Vue depuis le hublot d'un avion sur la piste de l'aéroport, un bras de mer, et la ville en face
Je suis en transit pour Berlin. Je n’y ai jamais mis les pieds ! On me dit que c’est magnifique et dynamique. J’y vais pour le boulot et prendrai ce que je peux de ces quelques jours. 

Vue depuis le hublot d'un avion sur une piste d'aéroport et un avion. La mise au point est sur les gouttes d'eau de la vitre. Ce qui est en arrière plan est flou et gris.
Ah, ça va me manquer de moins voyager.