Why they have so many parties

[klsiegel320]

I think I can answer why these people have so many parties - it's to escape the sequestered seclusion in which their environment confines them. The truly draconian network security is such that the most basic pleasures (like checking one's private e-mail occasionally) are denied; they are noted as violations of Internet policy, and reported. You almost expect black helicopters and men with dark glasses and guns.

I suppose - when there's real work to be accomplished, and too much of it, at that - it's not so bad; fewer distractions, fewer temptations. But yesterday, when there was a ton of work to do and no tools yet to do the work with, I thought I would go mad. It's then that the homesickness gets almost too much to bear.

Well, and the work environment I've been in is so open, so connected to the outside world. There are few restrictions on what you can do on the web - and those are very reasonable (like, no porn). There's Lotus Sametime, a chat client that is used almost universally there. L or N have kept me company several times while I was working - and working hard, and getting things done, but not at a killing pace; not in a joyless, windowless closet.


I'm so used to that crowd of electronic company, that ability to take a break by casually checking whether anyone has sent news or posted something fascinating.

Granted, it has its pitfalls. I've had days when I spent far more time than I should typing journal entries or replies to other people's entries, or additions to my TypePad review blog. I don't believe anyone's work ever suffered for that; I hope not.

But I've become so spoiled by all that connectivity - that and having the high-speed access where I'm staying...last night I spent two-and-a-half hours on the computer online with a 26.4K dial-up connection, and accomplished less than I would in half an hour at the Atlanta apartment or at home.

I'm going to have to insist on some kind of high-speed connection here for after-hours things, particularly since that now includes all shopping, online bill payments, accounting reviews, mail - basically any contact with the real world. I simply cannot live with my connection to the world reduced to the measure of an eye-dropper.


Which does bring to mind this point: there was a time when that eye-dropper was all we had. There was even a time before that. I used to exchange letters about the volume of a longish novella with several of my friends from college, with my fiance after I met him - long, rambling things, about what was going on in the world and my life and their lives - handwritten, yet, before I had a computer.

Came a time when I had a computer and printer at work, and a whole lot of empty time, and then handwritten letters became typed ones - longer, and using fancy fonts and cool stationery and such...

And then there was e-mail. Shaky at first, unreliable at times, very plain. But gradually the capability grew and more people got access, until now the fancy stationery and fonts are all electronic and never hit paper at all.

And there came to be instant messaging - almost like talking on the phone only silently; especially if you know your partner well, you can almost hear the voice in your ear. And then things like LJ and TypePad...like those holiday letters everybody makes fun of, only better: open letters to the world about what's going on...a way to keep up with each other, to feel involved, to document the extraordinary things, yes, but also a way to document and so to honor the ordinariness, the commonplaceness, of our lives - for it is in that very ordinary and commonplace that life is lived - neither on peaks nor in valleys but everlastingly on the road from who we've been to who we will be. It is good to have companions for such journeys.


And I think that very fact that it's so hard to tolerate any reduction of all this communion and companionship is because we are each and all so fundamentally lonely, so basically alone - and it is thus the most human thing in the world to seek company, connection...communion. That's why the Internet and the web, and text-messaging and email and weblogs and cell phones make so much sense: they make us feel less alone; they make us less lonesome.

They do have their drawbacks. There is the omnipresence of spam, for example, which although I report it diligently does seem to proliferate. There are times when the sheer weight of incoming correspondence is too much to handle all at once. The notes come several a day, instead of every couple of weeks.

They take less time to travel, and sometimes we take less time and care in creating them, say things we don't really mean, say things badly when with time we could have said them better. Stories abound of the venting rant sent accidentally to the boss, or the whole office, instead of the co-worker for whom it was intended, or the embarrassingly intimate story accidentally shared too broadly.

Even weblogs can generate unexpected and unintended consequences. One writes to share a bit of oneself with the world, and finds one's close colleagues asking one to "tone it down a bit," or to leave things out, or to lock things up. "Don't be quite so open," they say...and we ask, "Why not? Just don't read it, if you don't want to know."

But yet partly we're hurt because they didn't want to know - since what we're seeking is to be known, to be understood, to be acknowledged. I'll admit to a bit of disappointment that very few people seem to read what I write; certainly very few people comment, anyway.

This small world we live in is still really very large; we're still very small in it. Perhaps it was too much to expect, that people would read my philosophical ravings and fall in love with my writing...

Meanwhile, this day is becoming an exercise in frustration - the drill yesterday was getting profiles set. Today it's getting software installed. And we cannot do that ourselves, it must be done for us remotely over the network...which means we are helpless until the person who's doing it is available, and helpless if he fails to pay attention to what he's doing, and helpless because we can't get at the computer until he's done...and I hate being helpless. I do. I despise it. Particularly when there are boatloads of work to be done.

It is maddening to be very capable, and to be treated as an idiot user who can't possibly be self-sufficent. It's also maddening to be confined like a baby in a playpen, because we can't possibly be trusted not to fritter away the day shopping on eBay when we should be working.

I do see some sense in not allowing users access to download and install at will (although I can do that with my FC laptop; not supposed to, technically, but I can). It does make it more difficult to do support when the user's configuration might be varied in any of several million non-standard ways. My IT support guys routinely roll their eyes when they deal with me because I'm so non-standard...but they also appreciate that I need far less hand-holding than most of their users.

On the other hand, downloading and installing your own tools is faster than requisitioning them and waiting for days on end, too. It provides more personalization, more customization for the way I work, as opposed to some generalized standard of how "everybody" works.

Not to mention the fact that many of the tools in my kit aren't available to me on the desktop here, and we can't access the computer remotely. So the process of getting things like graphics work done will be even more convoluted than it already is...

Comments

Communion

[readinginbed.livejournal.com]

Great entry. I loved the history of correspondence, especially since ours is one that has undergone the changes in medium you describe. I hope they get the tools you need into your hands and that you are able to get broadband access at the apartment after the holidays.

I would feel downright claustrophobic if my online environment was as restricted as yours is at the moment. My sympathies. On the thankfully few occasions when our Internet connection has gone down at work, I've been so restless and bored. I miss my colleagues, friends, and family being gathered virtually around me. Without instant messenger I can't see at a glance if my boss is still in her office upstairs, I can't see if my husband has arrived home from work, my Mom can't give me weather updates and make plans to meet me at the gym after work, I can't chat with you if you're online. I sometimes wonder if I tend towards having a short attention span because I always have a million windows and programs open at once. I think the ability to move between tasks keeps me from getting bored. Things get a little slower in the library between Thanksgiving and Christmas so it is a good time (if there is one) for a little slacking in between required duties.

I think what employers forget, in their logical attempts to protect customer privacy, intellectual property and equipment by building a restricted online workspace is that society has evolved. You have people working states or countries away from loved ones, more mothers in the workplace, people working overtime because others have been laid off. By trying to prevent the inevitable overlaps between personal time and company time, at least technologically, they are breeding discontent. If Joe can't follow the Yankee game online while finishing up that deliverable, maybe he'll put in less time at work. He's already put in his eight hours; he'll head to the sports bar with buddies, or home to his recliner. If Susy can't order toys and books for her child's birthday while eating her lunch at her desk, she'll have to leave right at 5:00 so she can accomplish her shopping while her daughter is at dance class rather than stay the extra half hour to polish that document. I guess what I'm saying is that, while there are certainly exceptions, many times employers benefit by allowing some multitasking -- doing a quick email check to rest one's brain from proofreading, etc.