COLUMN: Cubicle life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be
I learned a lot of things in my business classes. While working toward my marketing minor, I learned about promotional management, statistical research and corporate organization. I did not, however, learn anything about the world of business.
I started a job in that world a month ago, and a month locked in a cubicle can do a lot to a man. Apart from looking like Tom Hanks in “Cast Away,” I’m starting to understand what that guy who wrote “Dilbert” was all about.
I’d thought that moving anywhere away from one of those desks in the Ray B. West building would be an improvement. But now that I’m acclimated to the gray walls and the guy next to me who, from what I can gather, is trying to run a used car dealership from his cubicle, I’m starting to miss that desk in RBW 316 with the “Lord of the Rings” trivia etched into it.
I’m sure some of my dissatisfaction stems from the serious generational gap between me and the rest of my office, but there’s something unsettling about showing up for your first day of work and being told, “Hi, I’m Ted. I didn’t realize it was ‘Bring your kid to work day!'” I am happy to report that the distance between us all is rapidly closing. The entire office is impressed by how quickly I move, and I still haven’t lost my gratitude at having a job.
My least favorite part of my education at USU was by far the many group assignments, meetings, projects and discussions I had to participate in. These group assignments, I am learning, were the best possible preparation for the real world. I would give a limb to have back that kid in my BA 4550 group who picked his nose when he thought no one was looking (I was, Richard. I was.) or that girl from MHR 3110 who thought the shoulder pads in her pant suit gave her the authority to tell us what to do.
Shoulder pads may be a poor foundation for authority, but I’m still trying to figure out why or how my manager got where she is. Her name is Jodi, and while I haven’t seen her resume, I’m hoping it mentions something about her amazing ability to function as director of an IT project without knowing anything about computers. Her motivational skills are laudable, though. The mere thought of a co-worker noticing some ineptitude of mine and calling me a “Jodi” is enough to keep me on task most days.
While success at USU comes from hard work, creativity and attention to detail, my few successes at Carondelet Health have come from simple things like helping someone turn on a projector and from managing expectations. Corporate America is, just like I learned in business class, all about delivering on your promises. This sounds hard, and it is, until you learn to promise mediocrity.
I could never have told a professor, “I understand that you want this paper tomorrow, but I am telling you that it is just not feasible. I think that we should give ourselves a week to see how this pans out before we set any hard dates.” But you’d better believe I’ll tell that to Jodi and that she’ll be OK with it, because deep down she has no idea what I’m talking about to begin with.
So, now that I think about it, the business world isn’t all bad. I may not be on the fast-paced, idealistic career path I dreamed of while sitting in my marketing classes, but I am getting paid to put in my headphones and play Solitaire. It isn’t the perfect life, but I still get chills every time the cards fly across the screen. And hey, that’s good enough for me.
Zach Pendleton is a senior majoring in English. Questions and comments can be sent to zpendleton@cc.usu.edu.