I grow weary

The Indian lady in the Intel poster has a blue dot on her forehead. I thought all the dots were red? Intel, though, has a rule for people in their advertisements: no super models, no trolls. You’ve got to be mediocre.

That’s right. If you’re mediocre, Intel wants you for its advertisements.

But that leads me to other things, as I sit here in a really boring meeting with nothing better to do. I got a conference room (a small 10×10 room) for myself for this 8am meeting all week because I really hate when people have loud phone calls in their cubicles. Some shit-for-brains will also put the meeting on speakerphone (!) for fucking chrissakes, I don’t want to hear your meetings. There’s this really tall dude on the other side of the building (the buildings are huge) that has meetings in his cubicle but stands up. He might as well be sticking his tongue in my ear.

Medusa had snakes on her head.

I’ve been looking for a mentor at Intel. I really don’t like Intel much, but that’s nearly 9 years of frustration building up, 9 years of my not getting off my ass and starting my own thing, 9 years of hemming and hawing about doing something else, meanwhile my life is just happening despite what goes on at Intel. At this point, it’s a paycheck, I’m successful at it (I’ve survived many rounds of layoffs, the dot com bust, the corporate accounting scandals, 9/11, stiff competition that kicked our butts, and, so far, the Great Bush Fucks America Depression), and it pays well.

Well fuck my ass.

So here I am, listening to some dude named “Mick” lead a boring meeting that rat-holed (Intel term for when you’re way off topic) 15 minutes ago ramble on from Swindon, England.

But, hey, it gives me a chance to fuck off and look up scooters and to write on Facebook and a host of other things.

Like the mentor. My friend, Christina, has a guy that she knew way back when she worked in Intel Flash. He’s a grade 10, which is a big fucking deal. I chatted with him a couple of weeks ago and will probably chat once/month. He kicks my ass up and down the street.

I need it.

The mentor guy says that Intel is the major leagues – ex-Intel employees that didn’t make it very far at Intel go on to become CEOs because Intel is the shiznit. And it is, really, and I have lost sight of working here because I get lost in the hum-drum stupidity of daily life amongst the fucktards because I really, really hate playing the fucking politics.

The Nuke program in the Navy was like that. The shit for brains fuckwits that got de-nuked? It was the best fucking thing to happen to them. I knew this guy, BK, that got de-nuked in ELT school (it was later overturned for a bunch of guys) and he was a fucking GOD amongst the lesser mortals.

So it goes (or so says Vonnegut).

And I really, really have a hard time hiding my exasperation. I have a hard time with speed-thinking, where I pretty much see your thought process and come to your conclusions before you do and then cut you off before you can even get there.

People don’t like when I do that. They get intimidated. Then they get quiet. Then they talk about me behind my back.

Makes me want to cornhole some fuckers.

Not everyone, mind you, but there’s a bell curve for intelligence, and despite my best efforts at avoiding the common folk and the people that will NEVER advance (and/or don’t want to), I end up among them because you hit the spread because the spread is the spread. Duh.

And I don’t suffer fools easily.

But the mentor guy says that learning to suffer the fools but still keep the edge is what’s going accelerate me to the head of the pack at Intel, to suddenly shoot up the ranks. I’m not that optimistic, but it’s nice to have a third-party that is also a smart-aleky punk but learned (in his words, in his late 40’s) that you’ve got to cause all boats to rise if you want to rise, too. And that means turning the dipshits into heroes, believe it or not.

Clearly, I can lead a team of my own. Clearly, I can be a one-man superstar.

However, if I manage a team, do I try to make other teams better, too, or do I just say that those teams are some other manager’s problem? Because that won’t get me anywhere at Intel – you’ve got to be seen not just as the team player but as the SUPER team player, the COACH that makes his team better but doesn’t forget about the bench.

But, fuck me gently with a chainsaw, that’s fucking hard to do. God damn fuck my arse, it’s hard. I really, really, really don’t suffer them fools easily.

I’ll make it… tell Sanchito that if he knows what’s good for him, he best go run and hide, daddy’s got a new .45… and I won’t think twice to stick that barrel straight down Sancho’s throat.