Hee hee hee.

Is it referring to all my crazy-cool tech gear... or...

Small business challenge number 785.

It occurred to me today that I should just fire everyone.

Now, this isn't quite the Big Deal that it seems, because out of my two full-time employees, one has already quit (an amicable and entirely proper split). The other one is a nice person who does a subset of what I do. She’s pretty good at it, but I’m not sure how I need to reconfigure things if I want to keep the company lean, nimble, and efficient.

Don’t get me wrong: firing one person sucks. I just didn’t want to imply that I was running some sort of massive operation here.

I’ve gotten a lot of advice from folks… including the person who’s leaving. It’s been suggested that yes, I clear the decks and hire a super-capable office person/personal assistant, and go all crazy on my own. It’s been suggested that I stick with employee number 3, and hire a part-time billing and collections person.

I have no idea what to do… and this is the worst time for me to think about it, because I’m exhausted.

Anybody out there want to work for a pro-choice, pro-gray, hetero catholic father of three? With hypomania?

Heh.

Love to all. Even you, Mr. “Change that to red.”

I just want to report...

...that it appears my special reversible belt, the one that goes with everything, is about to snap in half. HOLD ON, BABY! JUST TWO MORE DAYS!!!

Love to all.

Did I go overboard on this one?

So, I have to review a lot of emails as part of my regular job. A lot. I was just doing that here in Orlando (yay, two jobs at once!). It's 9:38pm and I've been here since 7:15am, so I'm starting to get a little punchy.

Someone (who I don't know) wrote me an email, and they started with "Hi, Rich! How's life?"

So I wrote them back:

Dear [name withheld],

It’s been so long since you’ve written, I was beginning to think you returned to the Sorbonne.

Me, I’ve been okay. After a brief stint in the Oregon State Penitentiary, I was released, with ankle bracelet, and immediately embarked on a new career as a nautical engineer. Sadly, that venture failed spectacularly, and eventually came to rest at the bottom of the Indian Ocean. Seven years later, I found myself hiding out in a single-room flat in Clackmannanshire.

Then, monkeys. So many monkeys.

Was that overboard? I don't know. It felt good, though.

Love to all. Even you, the chicken organizer.

Geek humor.

After 48 hours of trying to fix an access problem, we finally got it resolved. I was chatting with the network manager who actually fixed the problem, and tried to put my own spin on it.

I liked his response.

(I'm the icon on the right.)

Love to all. Even you, the lady who's a little too defensive about her masking tape.

Dammit, Dammit, Dammit.

So, I went back to the room after being onsite for 14 hours. While in the room, I missed two phone calls saying that the Senior VP (and master of the Main Client Account) couldn’t play a particular media file, and could I fix it right away?

Sadly, my personal cell phone had died, and nobody thought to try me on the show phone, via email, or by calling my room.

Fuck.

Love to all. Even you, alarm clock.

I am SO cool.

Why, because I chatted online with Zube Girl. (click to enlarge).

I've actually only IMed with two people from the blogworld. I'm always kind of terrified, because I don't want them to think I'm some kind of psycho. Or rather, a different kind of psycho than I actually am. So, to cover myself, I'm like:

"HI! DON'T THINK I'M WEIRD! HA HA! OKAY, BYE!"

Or some craziness like that... and I always make sure I sign off first, just in case they are thinking: "God, I hate this guy. Why is he talking to me? Is he a stalker?"

Ah, my brain. I'm so outgoing and NOT outgoing at the same time, it's just ludicrous.

Love to all.

Feel Free to say yo!

AIM: richchampionable
YAHOO: rich_championable

Feel free to IM me, until it freaks me out too much and I shut that shit down.

Love to all.

Calm before the storm and AAAAAAAAAH!

So here's one of the production rooms. It's empty, but that won't last long. My PowerBook looks a wee bit out of place amongst all the XP notebooks.

I've been sent back to the hotel for the evening, since I'm doing "staff support" and the "staff" isn't here yet... as you can plainly see.

What the hell....

...what the hell... WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO FOR 14 HOURS WITH NO KIDS, NO MAGGIE, NO DOGS, NO CATS, AND NO COMPANY!?!?!?!

Okay. I said it. I am NOT used to downtime... and I'm here in this hotel with no car, and nothing to do until 8am tomorrow. Holy CRAP.

Love to all.

Either this room is going to rock...

...or it's going to suck.

It'll totally rock if it's just me. It's a kickin' suite and it has two TVs and I can sleep in one of two beds, or both. Fun!

It'll totally suck if I wind up with a roommate. After twelve years with Maggie, I'm not too fond of sleeping near someone I don't know. Bleah. Thing is, I would be totally happy in a Japanese-style micro-room, too. I just can't handle roommates.

I'm pretty sure I'm solo, though.

Either way, I don't think I'm going to be here too much except to sleep, so there won't be much time to dance naked, anyway. Not, um, that I would do that.

Okay. Quick coffee, then off to the show.

Love to all. Even you, Cliff the Van Driver who not-so-subtly implied that I had stolen one of those kick-ass vibrating pager-thingies.

Well, *that* went well.

I'm writing this from Gate 1, Delta Terminal, Laguardia airport, New York City.

I woke up at 3:30am, half an hour before the alarm. I'm crazy like that.

My flight isn't until 10:45, but Maggie and the kids decided to go to visit her Dad in West Palm Beach... and their flight was at 8:00am. So off we went, super early.

While waiting in the van, my daughter slugged my youngest in the head. I sent her inside, checked on the boy, stormed inside, and yelled at my daughter "GET IN THE KITCHEN!" Apparently, this scared the crap out of Maggie, because she yelped. I angrily told my daughter that she could not hit, and that this was totally unacceptable. Maggie was really upset that I yelled at our daughter like that. On the way to the airport, she said that she wants me to talk to someone about my temper. Ugh.

She may be right, though. Although not in the way that she's saying.

I think it might be good for me to see a shrink. I think that as I turn... um... "40"... that it's wtime to come to terms with my beloved-but-fucking-insane father, and the long-term effects of my prior difficulties with with alcohol.

This bothers me, though. And I know why.

Being raised in a "black/white" environment, where I was either "God's gift to the planet," or someone who "didn't deserve to steal oxygen from others," I think the idea of going to therapy to try and improve on things that are relatively normal is an entirely fucked-up concept. Does this make sense?

In other words: in my brain, having any issue = complete mental ruin.

Love to all. Someone I know just arrived.

Prepare for weirdness!

Hello, gorgeous. How've you been?

Ka-yummy.

I'm flying tomorrow morning to work tech support at a huge-ass corporate conference in Orlando, Florida. My job is to help keep the on-the-fly design studios running, and to make sure all the conference workers can communicate with their home base: email, VPN, etc.

This is the only client I work for directly. The rest of the time, I'm at my little business in the East Village.

If this conference is anything like last year, I can expect 12 - 18 hour days that consist of:

1. 8 hours of intense bordedom, followed by
2. 0.5 hours of heartfelt panic, followed by
3. 10 minutes of rational solution, followed by
4. 5 more hours of intense boredom.

It's being there to provide the rational solution that matters.

So, I'm going to try and post lots of little things over the next five days. I'll be returning late 2/1... And on 2/2, I'm turning 37 years old.

WAIT. Make that 40. I'm turning 40.

Okay, I'm not. But what I decided is: I need to say that I'm 40 for the next four years, so that when I'm finally 41, I'll be cool with it.

Does that make sense to you?

Love to all. Even you, the tragic bastard with the frightened girlfriend.

Is my wife being sarcastic?

You tell me. This is her email to me about picking me up at the train station:

Be sure to let me know exactly, to the minute, when you will be arriving so that I will be THERE when you get there and you will not have to wait at all, because that would be totally humiliating, as if you were not loved by your wife or children.

God, she knows me so well.

Love to all. Even you, the AP person who has made the same promise of payment for three weeks.

Oh, poop.

So, here I am, struggling with how to have a conversation with Employee #3, when Employee #2 quits. Her last day is February 10. She was offered an opportunity to work as an assistant in this education program, where they'll pay 80% of her Master's tuition.

She was terrified to tell me. She was all shaky-nervous as she tried to. When I realized she was trying to tell me she was leaving, I said: "Okay, hold up. Permission to be candid? Okay. I love you. You're fantastic. You're leaving. It's cool. So now tell me what I need to know."

The rest of the conversation was much easier.

I meant it, too. I love this girl. Not that way (although she's smart and super-pretty), but because she's brought a ton of great personality to a personality-driven company. She's a dedicated, hard-working, can-do person with all kinds of a future. So it makes sense that she's moving on to do what she's always wanted to do.

In a way, it makes conversation with employee #3 much easier: since my next employee is going to have to be a sales person, making the big discussion about reorganizing her compensation package to be other-than-office-performance-based is an easier one to have.

I'm sad, though. Employee #2 is a great kid. She's been with me for a year and a half.

I'll miss her.

Update, oatmeal, being the boss.

Good morning! Want some oatmeal?

It turns out bringing Employee #2 to the doctor was a really good thing. She has an abnormal heartbeat, and while she's no immediate danger they're running her on all kinds of tests over the next week or two. Yeesh. The good thing is, she feels much better knowing that: 1) She's not about to die, 2) She's getting treated. This is a fit, 26-year-old woman... but who's family has a history of all kinds of stuff.

My family? We live forever. But we go insane early.

Employee #3 is coming back to work today. She's the one with a verifiable-semi-serious ilness that may have additional components. The thing here from an employee standpoint is that prior to all this going down, she was going to have an employee review where part of the review would be: We can't afford you the way we're paying you. So I'm feeling pretty stuck on this... legally, my motives were correct... from a business perspective, I think I'm pretty much spot on... but from a human perspective... bad, bad timing.

I know what'll fix everything: cocaine and hookers!

Kidding. Sorry. Anyway. I'm teaching my second class today, and I have NO IDEA WHAT TO DO. Any ideas? Think stock PCs, kindergarteners. Actually, I have some ideas... but not concrete.

Love to all. Even you, fartypants.

The little, strange things.

One of my employees is out sick. Might be medium sick, might be very sick. Don't know. Can't ask. She's been out a bit, and she'll be out until at least tomorrow. Then, she's out again Friday... and I don't know for how long.

This morning, my other employee (I have two internally, and about 30 freelancers on the outside) came in and said that she'd been up all night... and had been sleeping poorly for the last few nights. She's had chest pain, tooth pain (in her front teeth), and numbness in her arm. Obviously, her friends said "GO TO THE DOCTOR NOW."

So she finally called the doctor, and he said "Come in immediately."

I brought her uptown, and am writing this from the waiting room. Someone in the building has an open wireless network.

Selfishly, I think: "Shit. I've got two sick employees. That leaves just me in the office. How the hell am I supposed to keep things moving?" I'm such a jackass.

But when it comes to action, at least I'm doing the right thing. I brought her up here, and I'm going to wait until she gets out... her husband is stuck at work, so he can't be here. Yay, small business ownership... I can close the office if I want, and damn it all.

Love to all. Even you, the 100-year-old doctor.

Dudes! I totally forgot!

So, I was walking down Warren Street in Hudson, NY, to pick up Maggie from her massage appointment. This blue car with a yellow bumper sticker goes by and beeps... and this girl leans out the back seat window and says "Hi!" The driver, a young lady in her early twenties, smiles at me.

I was like, WTF? Me? They drive past.

About ten minutes later, I'm chatting up this supernice hippie dude who was standing outside the entrance to the massage place. It turns out his girlfriend was the owner, and also the lady with whom Maggie had an appointment. All of a sudden I hear "Hi, you!" I look at the street and there's the same car full of young ladies, and they're waving right at me again. And they cruise by.

The hippie dude says "Hey man, they like you."

I realize they probably thought I was someone else... but it was WAY cool to get checked out by a carload of attractive young women. I admit it.

Love to all. Even you, real estate guy.

Famous people, lots o' love, and Maximum Art.

Okay. This was pretty great. We got home from our weekend away, and the kids had made us a cake. That completely rocks. I'm glad they didn't garnish it with legos. Clearly, that almost happened.

Maggie and I spent the weekend at a place called the Union Street Guest house. At first, we checked into the first-floor Library Suite, but we thought that it would be way noisy, so we asked if we could move upstairs to the Gallery Suite. The owner said, sure... the woman who was supposed to arrive in the Gallery Suite was cool with either room. Then he said "Uh, listen, if she knocks on your door because she doesn't know about the switch, be cool. It's Mary Stuart Masterson, the actress." So that was kind of fun. We heard her, but it turned out that we didn't meet her.

It turns out that when Maggie and I are alone, we laugh more, and we make love more. A lot more. Of both. It's always a good thing when the number of times you make love outnumbers the number of nights you stay in a place. Rock on.

Also: we laughed our asses off. And no, it's was not related the last paragraph. I can't remember when we had so many laughing fits... the kind where your stomach starts to really, really hurt... but you keep laughing because you can't stop.

We bought some nice things: a really beautiful and solid antique desk for my oldest son, and two large photographs by a up-and-coming photographer. Maggie also picked up a sweet little ring from Bali.

Hudson is fantastic. It's got amazing architecture, some great restaurants, a huge artists community, and relatively affordable housing. If I had extra cash, I'd buy some real estate up there.

I didn't look at a TV or computer for 60 hours, which is some kind of record for me.

It's nice to be home. There's a lot of things going on, and I have a minor crisis in my office that I have to figure out. But that's for another post.

The great thing from the weekend was the huge, fabulous reminder that Maggie and I still make a really good boyfriend/girlfriend pairing. After twelve years, I'm still thrilled to be around her. She's fun, adventurous, sexy, and smart. And I'm married to her.

Lucky, lucky me.

Love to all.

Three.... two... one...

I'm actually leaving my computer at home this weekend. Shock-a-ROO!

I'm a little bummed that I won't see my two older kids before I leave... the babysitter is picking them up at the bus stop... it's so weird how I'm totally psyched for some alone-time with Maggie... yet I already miss my kids, even though I haven't even LEFT yet.

Yeesh.

Oh! Oh! I almost forgot! I went a little crazy and got gifts for Maggie for our weekend getaway. I bought her two cute little bangles as "Yay! We're off!" presents... and I'm going to give her those in the car just after we leave. But at dinner tonight, I'm going to spring a little necklace I got her at the oh-so-badly-named but very cool store in NYC called "New York Look." She will completely not expect it.

Okay. Going to pack a little bag, then we're heading out. Leave me nice things to read for when I get back. See you Sunday.

Love to all. Even you, the salesdude in Saks who shadowed me for 10 minutes.

No way!

So: tomorrow evening, Maggie and I are headed up to Hudson, New York, to spend a weekend alone. Yeah, you heard that right: alone.

No kids, no cats, no dogs… Just the two of us, for two nights, chilling. Of course, you know precisely what we’re going to talk about: kids, cats, and dogs. But I hope to sleep until at least 7am… I hope to get in some serious smooching… and I hope that Maggie and I enjoy each other’s company.

Scratch that last one.

What I mean is: I hope that I’m patient, easygoing, and fun to be with. I know that I can be a really fun person to hang with. I also know that I can be crabby, irritable, and annoying. So I’m going to have to do a little praying, and my prayer will be, in part:

“God, please help me not be a dick.”

Love to all. Even you, the drama queen.