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molly_oMy workplace has a Fun Committee. I personally can't think of anything *less* fun than a committee -- heck, even getting my wisdom teeth removed had its moments (most of them involving Percocet) -- but someone thought it made sense, and lo, it came to pass. The Fun Committee organizes chili cookoffs and trivia contests and other events to help us get to know each other better as individuals and share sides of ourselves not usually in evidence at the office.
I don't really mind cooking chili or participating in a trivia contest; I don't mind that they generally schedule these events during lunch, so that they consume my personal time, and not the time for which I'm compensated; I don't even mind that under the New Regime the cooler that once held beer is stocked with soda (OK, I mind that a little). No, what I really mind is the whole *premise*, the getting-to-know-each-other-as-individuals part.
They want us to do things like share our hobbies. And by hobbies, they mean things like knitting and golf and craft projects. Now, I actually keep meaning to learn to knit, and (as documented in this very journal) I can get behind a good craft project. But if pressed to list my hobbies, I'd have to say 1) drinking bourbon, 2) watching soon-to-be-cancelled television programs, and 3) reading smutty stories involving the male characters of the aforementioned television programs. These aren't hobbies I really feel like sharing with my coworkers.
Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of people I really like and respect at my office, people who like and respect me, people who make Trek jokes and like Eddie Izzard (OK, so that's one person), and greet me Thursday mornings with, "So what'd you think of Lost?", and share many of my social and political views, and know far too much about my personal life. But my workplace is, generally speaking, conservative and conformist. I take great liberties with the dress code, for example, and I *still* feel like I'm in drag.
So when they say they want me to share sides of myself not usually in evidence at the office, I think, "No, really, you don't."
I don't really mind cooking chili or participating in a trivia contest; I don't mind that they generally schedule these events during lunch, so that they consume my personal time, and not the time for which I'm compensated; I don't even mind that under the New Regime the cooler that once held beer is stocked with soda (OK, I mind that a little). No, what I really mind is the whole *premise*, the getting-to-know-each-other-as-individuals part.
They want us to do things like share our hobbies. And by hobbies, they mean things like knitting and golf and craft projects. Now, I actually keep meaning to learn to knit, and (as documented in this very journal) I can get behind a good craft project. But if pressed to list my hobbies, I'd have to say 1) drinking bourbon, 2) watching soon-to-be-cancelled television programs, and 3) reading smutty stories involving the male characters of the aforementioned television programs. These aren't hobbies I really feel like sharing with my coworkers.
Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of people I really like and respect at my office, people who like and respect me, people who make Trek jokes and like Eddie Izzard (OK, so that's one person), and greet me Thursday mornings with, "So what'd you think of Lost?", and share many of my social and political views, and know far too much about my personal life. But my workplace is, generally speaking, conservative and conformist. I take great liberties with the dress code, for example, and I *still* feel like I'm in drag.
So when they say they want me to share sides of myself not usually in evidence at the office, I think, "No, really, you don't."