I Don’t Remember Seeing This in my Job Description

We all have routines. Sometimes those routines are comforting. They help reestablish order after chaos, they reassure us with their familiarity. And some routines just bore us to tears. Commuting to work, doing housework, grocery shopping, packing and unpacking, and so on. I was thinking about all of this as I was going through my morning routine at the office, namely crawling around under my desk plugging things in. At last count, I need 3 outlets to “begin” my day: 2 laptops and the charger for my iPod. As I was completing this very graceful morning ritual, it made me think about my job in general and all the things my job description leaves unsaid.

I’m sure you’ve thought about it and probably even complained about it. Granted, there is no way any job description is going to present you with an itemized list of all the things you “could” be asked to do in the line of duty. I understand that. This is really more of a humorous look at some of the things we end up doing for the job. And when I say “we” I mean me. Let’s face it; it’s always about me here….

Power-hungry
As I mentioned previously, part of my routine regardless of where I am in the world, is the search for power. Whether it’s plugging in one of the many laptops I am sometimes forced to accept, or searching for Internet connections for said laptops, there always seems to be a short supply of power and power-related accoutrements. If they can make those fun little gadgets called stud-finders (great name), why can’t they make something like that for power outlets? My uncle was showing off some gizmo he got for Christmas that locates wireless hotspots. He was over the moon about it. He’s probably camped out in a hotel parking lot right now, surfing the Net for free.

Once you do find them, why are they located in places that require you to be a contortionist or worse, an electrician? Honestly, if they are going to make you navigate through some crawl space that the cleaning crew has never discovered (hey, it’s not in THEIR job description), then they ought to provide one of those miner hats with the light and some kneepads. This is an especially nice image if you happen to be wearing a skirt that day. How often does someone stop by your desk expecting to find you, only to see you emerging from UNDER the desk (possibly giving yourself a concussion in the process) or even worse, with just the back end sticking out while you are fumbling in the semi-darkness for the outlet?

The other end of the spectrum is the hotel outlet. I only mention one because there always seems to be a single outlet in the one area you need at least 2: the desk. In the hotel where I have been living, the outlet under the desk has one of those accessories added to it that gives it another 4 outlets. Yeah, and 3 of the 4 are still taken up by the lamp, the modem, and sometimes even the damn coffee pot. Meanwhile, on the other 3 walls, too far away from the modem to be of any use, are outlets galore. So, then I get in to decorator mode and rearrange the room fixtures, trying to get just one more outlet I can use. I don’t move the furniture any more than I have to. I do NOT want to know what lives under anything in there. And then housekeeping changes everything back again. It’s like my own version of Groundhog Day.

The ole Soft Shoe- When Puttin’ on the Ritz turns into Stayin’ Alive
As an instructor, you know that not every class is going to be perfect. You understand that unexpected things happen that are beyond your control. Assuming you are using some sort of media or teaching aid that requires you to rely on a power source other than the sound of your voice, you definitely need a backup plan. You should set your mind at ease now and realize that things are going to go wrong.

How you decide to handle life’s little interruptions to your militantly organized and timed training event (that is already trying to squeeze 8 hours of content into 6) separates the facilitators from the imitators. Time to dust off the tap shoes, hat and cane. Initially, I think the minor inconveniences (a blown bulb in a projector, the temperature in the room, thin walls, weird system bugs that have suddenly chosen today to make an appearance.) can be easily worked around and should have been addressed as part of your backup plan. If not, easiest thing in the world is to send them on break. Deal with your issues without an audience, if possible. Like it or not, you are the authority in the room, so don’t blow your cover on something small.

Even with the bigger problems (system crash, the class from Hell, last minute changes to materials that you haven’t prepared for that are still warm from the printer), you still should attempt to give the illusion of control. Again, when things start to fall apart, take a break. Find whatever support you can for the issues you can’t put a band-aid on and then start looking at your agenda for things to condense or skip. I think the key point again here is to keep your cool. Your audience (contrary to what you may be thinking) is not stupid and can sense your fear and even worse, your escalating frustration. Treat them like adults, whether they deserve it or not, and just get through it. I think this also calls for a (mental) costume change. For the really bad moments, tap shoes and a cane aren’t going to get it done. Your choreographed soft shoe routine will backfire on you at this point. It’s time now for the sweatband, the kneepads, and extra-sassy fingerless gloves. This routine may not be as polished as you’d like, but you are still in charge, and you still have an agenda to get through. You rock and you know it, and your evaluations will reflect that when all the other areas get trashed.

Then again, maybe it’s a good thing job descriptions are so broad. Could you imagine what the interview process would be like? New Hire training? More like Welcome to Boot Camp. I can just picture a certain trainer from my past dressed in camouflage saying "Ok people, I'm holding a grenade. This WILL be on the test." Frightening!