Travel Day(s)

Flight 1 of 4: Wichita to Chicago (Wednesday, 12/04/2013)

This flight was largely uneventful other than sitting next to delightful pro hockey player from Vancouver whom I chatted with the entire way. 

Flight 2 of 4: Chicago to Newark

This flight was completely uneventful.  The best part was getting Sushi, which I normally shy away from, at O’Hare during our layover.  It was seriously phenomenal; grilled teriyaki chicken with avocado and asparagus wrapped in a super thin sesame paper instead of the typical seaweed wrap (the reason I normally don’t care for Sushi, that and I’m allergic to shellfish).

Flight 3 of 4: Newark to Mumbai (Entering Thursday, 12/05/2013)

Now, this was supposed to be a 15 hour flight during which I would almost completely miss the entire day of Thursday; no big loss as I didn’t have particularly high expectations for the day.  I could never have anticipated the luck, however, that a consistent and terrifying mechanical sound issuing next to me on the back of the huge Boeing 747 would issue on such a Thursday.  I have no idea how long we’d been on the plane when the noise started.  We got to cruising altitude and had dinner, shortly after which I put in earplugs, popped a Xanax, and settled in for the next God-awful number of hours.  The flight was relentlessly bumpy and the earplugs somewhat ineffective, so sleep did not come easy.  It wasn’t long before the noise started.  I kept my eyes closed and didn’t rouse but remember thinking ‘if this is what it sounds like with earplugs in, that sound must be really loud.’  I poked my head out for a peak and sure enough everyone was exchanging extremely nervous glances between each other and to the area from which the sounds was coming.  After a while the captain came on to assure us that they were aware of the issue, there was nothing wrong with the plane and we were safe, and that we’d be continuing on to Mumbai and returning to the States.  Well, for the next few hours the noise stopped and started in about thirty minute intervals.  I awoke from my weird ‘I’m resting but not really sleeping’ state with an extremely bruised ass and an urge to pee, so I got up to walk around and chat up the Stewardesses, which is when I found out we were being diverted to Heathrow airport where a mechanical crew was going to inspect the issue causing the noise.  Because the extra fuel that would take us to Mumbai made the plane too heavy to land, we had to dump it.  This seemed like such a horrible waste, but it was necessary and looked pretty cool too.  The stewardesses didn’t expect us to even pull up to a gate at Heathrow, stating that we’d sit on the tarmac while the crew did their inspection, then we’d take off again; turning our 15 hour flight into a much longer one.  This thought didn’t make me happy, but I was at their mercy and resigned to my sour-ass’s fate.  Regardless, I thought it was awesome that I was at least stopping in the UK for the first time.  We landed and were told to hold-tight until the inspection was done. 

After surprisingly little time, we were informed that the flight had been cancelled, but that we’d be shuttled to a hotel, given lunch, dinner and breakfast the next morning, and free internet at the hotel; but I was most excited that I’d be sleeping in a real bed, able to exercise and, duh, I WAS IN F@!$#ing LONDON!  Are you kidding me?! I wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste!  After a quick lunch and shower, my boss and our co-worker and I headed to Heathrow Terminal 1 and the underground Piccadilly Line to downtown.  The sights and sounds were so beautifully unfamiliar, the people so dazzling to watch.  Since we had limited daylight time, as it gets dark around 3:45pm, we did to the biggies: Buckingham Palace on the Thames and Big Ben (my personal pick).  We walked along the river through a gorgeous park between the two destinations; there were still colorful leaves falling from the trees and the grass was a brilliant green.  It was so phenomenal I felt like crying; to be in London, the one place I’ve always wanted to go, I simply can’t explain how blessed and grateful I felt.  After getting caught in the cold London rain (in clothes that were intended for the 90F temperatures of India), we headed to a pub around Trafalgar square name The Clarence where I partook of the most delicious hot spiced red wine and a ‘Proper Sandwich’ of roasted butternut squash, malted brie, and sweet beet relish. PHENOMENAL! How could I have known that this seemingly uneventful Thursday would become one of the most memorable days of my life.

[Link to Pictures]

After our brief, yet sublime, outing we took the hour-long train and bus route back to the hotel.  Despite my extreme fatigue, I took a relaxing brisk walk on the treadmill to finish off the night and prepare for the long flight ahead; I slept like the dead.  I’m now comfortably seated in the United Star Alliance lounge waiting for the plane part to be installed so that we can continue to Mumbai where I’ll spend the night before flying to Vizag on Saturday morning.

On a more general note, this was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had for a couple of different reasons: 1) United handled the situation wonderfully and spared no expense to make the unfortunate situation as comfortable and convenient for the passengers as possible, and 2) I now have about 200 new Indian friends.  Seriously, I can’t get over how friendly everyone is! They don’t shy away from asking questions, or striking up conversations.  Most people even shared personal information regarding how the cancellation impacted their personal plans, and spared no details; it was extremely endearing.  Interestingly, I met a great couple from Toronto who once owned a hotel in Gananoque, Ontario right across the St. Lawrence from where I grew up. It truly is a small, and magnificent, world!

The Way

The only way to Feel is Grateful
The only way to Be is Patient
The only Virtue worth having is Serenity
The only Certainty to expect is Change

The only Path to Enlightenment is God

Thought of the Day 09/25/2013: The Bounce-Back of Death

Today my naiveté became palpable when I made a sad realization....

Last week, as was my habit, I sent out meeting minutes from one of the projects I serve on; one that has been ongoing since January and admittedly one of my favorites.  I enjoy this particular project because  substantial site leadership also serve on the team and my dedication and extensive preparation does not go unnoticed; a critical back-pat to an up-an-coming pharmaceutical guru.  This was how I became acquainted with one of my favorite team members, the Biological and Chemical Quality Director, and an extremely affable and intelligent person of India heritage.  After sending out the minutes I immediately received and email that this persons' message could not be delivered.  I had gotten this bounce-back at previous jobs for one of two reasons:

1. The person's inbox was full and couldn't accept any more incoming messages
2. They had been canned, or had otherwise unceremoniously left the company

Vs.

Surely it couldn't be the latter, I had just seen them the day before and nothing of consequence seemed amiss.  Thinking that this person may be missing more important emails than my own, I walked down to their office to inform them to clean out their inbox or contact IT about the issue.  THe office was closed up, but I thought nothing of it; instead, I meandered to one of his manager's offices and asked it this person would be in today.  The manager replied that they wouldn't be there that day, then awkwardly said they thought this person would be out all of next week as well.  Since awkwardness is this guy's forte I thought nothing of it; told the manager about the issue and asked them to convey my message if they saw their supervisor before I did.  

Supervisor's often go out on extensive vacations, so again, I thought nothing of the situation.  Then, at today's meeting, my own supervisor gave a sly smile and said she'd noticed the bounce-back and asked the rest of the team about getting a replacement.  I was confused, and told them what I had done in remediation of the bounce-back, and what the manager had said; our guy would be back from vacation next week.  They each gave me a pitying look as it dawned on me that this person was no longer with us, and I was crushed with sadness.  My boss said, here, there's only one reason for that bounce-back, 'oh' was my only reply, I felt dirty somehow. Our Regulatory team member shared their tale of one fateful morning they shot a quick email to their supervisor and got the bounce-back of death; no warning, no clues, just gone.

This got me thinking, for whatever reason a lot of these instances have been happening lately.  High-level personnel dropping like flies without any warning, clues are tips as to whether is was a 'canning' or a 'I'm running from a burning building'; though I heavily suspect the former.  It makes me feel insecure, who will be next?  I've come to care about these people, and enjoy working with them as well as for the company; it makes me feel a bit abandoned and I'm not sure who to be pissed at, HR or the person for leaving.  But shit, I may show up one morning and discover that my card won't let me in the front door.  

I really, now more than ever, need to watch my mouth at work.... and lock-up my tendency to sexually harsh my co-workers.

Thought of the Day 09/24/2013: Pinata of Self-Hate

Today my 'Laugh 'til the mascara Runs' daily calendar reads:

At first this inspired a cynical giggle, but then I thought: "Wait a minute, that doesn't make any sense; there's little to no room for the candy!"

So, new idea, fess up to the fact that the common hate we cast onto Supermodels is the direct result of our own body image self-hatred.  When I was fat, I indeed resented Supermodels; I didn't look like them but wanted to so I hated them.  Simply put, I projectile vomited my insecurities all over a specific profession, the members of which are very likely dealing with their own significant body image issues.  Now that I've worked hard on my body and feel good about myself, I could really care less about Supermodels; maybe even feeling a bit sorry for them.  Inflated egos aside, I've experienced first hand the devastating impact withholding calories can have on your brain, body and general thought processes. It's typical for these women to stare themselves into outlandish behavior, all for the sake of 'conventional beauty'.

In this light, I think it's far more constructive to make a pinata of the person who is really the target of the inner anger [insert self-image], and beat the shit out of that instead. Best of all, it's not only a great workout but also the fatter you are, the more candy you can fit in it!

I'm Lovin' It

Since I awoke at precisely the same time I was supposed to clock-in for my 7:00 am shift at McDonald's, I did not hold much hope of it being a great day; but, gratefully, I was wrong.

A severe storm around 4:00 am that morning had knocked-out the power sometime between then and the time my alarm was set to go off at 5:45 am.  So in lieu of leisurely showering, walking Charles and having a grand breakfast while playing some Pogo, as is my usual ritual, I hurriedly called 411 to get McDonald's phone number to warn them of my tardiness, brushed my teeth while kicking Charlie out the door to relieve himself, shoveling granola and yogurt down my gullet and calling a friend to get the number of the electric company to ensure the power issue was being addressed.  Stressful, indeed.

I walked in around 7:30 am to the usual weekend crew, a magnificent collection of eclectic Souls.  I had already delightedly deduced, by noting who was temporarily stationed there awaiting my arrival, that I'd be in my normal spot as the primary drive-thru order taker and intermittent cashier; then verified my assumption with a glance at the schedule.  After exchanging various greetings and grumblings over my loss of electricity, I happily took up my post, donned my headset and readied myself with a sunny disposition, leaving the morning's rift miles behind.  At 8:00 am the shift's cashier arrived and I busied myself with sporadic cleaning projects and brewing iced tea while taking orders.

Taking orders for drive-thru is perhaps a job better suited to me than any other as it relies exclusively on my characteristic auditory nature.  Typically people operate by sight, taking cues from visual stimuli to fire neural synapses and activate brain activity.  I, along with a small subset of the world's population, function solely by auditory stimuli, and I've honed this talent to the point where I often find myself closing my eyes to concentrate and tap into my optimal thinking potential.  This is why I prefer to attend meetings via conference call at Hospira, stare at a blank wall while running and entertain myself by listening to podcasts and audiobooks instead of watching television or movies.  Even if there is a TV on, I am at most paying attention by listening, I rarely watch it which is precisely why I do not own one; I simply don't find them as enjoyable as listening to my laptop or Ipod.  To that point, I'm able to listen to an order while crammed into some corner cleaning grease off the wall, retain the information, tap it into the computer, relate the order's total to the customer as I've memorized them for the majority of our common combinations (i.e. 2 large drinks, 2 McDoubles and a McChicken, an Egg McMuffin meal, etc.), then hurriedly get up and have the order into the store before the car even reaches the cashier.  I am, effectively, a machine; and I authentically take pride in my work.

Do you want Hot or Mild sauce with your breakfast burrito?

To say nothing of the enjoyment I get from the diversity and generally awesome real-world, down-to-earth, attitudes of my fellow McDonald's employees, to the Manager's that bust their butts right along with the rest of us (and typically harder), to the every day customers with whom I relate best to due to my own blue collar upbringing; I love the added dimension that this seemingly meaningless, trivial, job also brings to my position at Hospira.  This fact became especially pronounced on this particular day, as it served to give me a confidence boost and touched my heart in ways that has not happened in quite some time.  Now, I've delighted in seeing many of my Hospira colleagues while working my McDonald's shifts, mostly production personnel during their breaks, but this also included cashing out two of the tippy-top leaders at the plant, for Operations and Quality, respectively.  Since my job is mid-level and a big project has previously made some of my work visible to them, they've come to know me and looked at me quizzically wearing my McDonald's garb and a cheery smile as they reach the drive-thru window.  To one I joked, 'my boss doesn't pay me enough,' but I only did so because I was certain he'd understand that I meant it in jest.  In general, I do my best to be affable and get to know all my fellows Hospirians, offering any assistance I can, so my name and face are at least partially ubiquitous.  Yet it does not often occur to me that there are people who see me at both places who I fail to recognize.  What I view as my normal and mundane dual-job schedule thus becomes highlighted in my community, which is what led to my aforementioned confidence boost.

I was training a newbie on drive-thru, and since he turned out to be a natural, I left him to bee-bop around with my drive-thru headset intact so that I could continue to listen to his order taking abilities and come to his rescue if needed.  Meanwhile, I cleaned, cooked and packaged hash browns, sanitized trays, filled condiment containers, etc.  I saw someone, as is typical on the weekends, that I had seen at Hospira many times and who is familiar with 'my level' of work there; the usual quizzical look and brief exchange ensued whereby I explain that this is my 'weekend job, for fun,' then I scampered off, slapping the fun-loving front counter guy on the butt as I did so.  I didn't think anything of that exchange until later when one of the managers stopped me and said 'Summer, you're a really great worker.'  This surprised me, she continued, 'A customer was explaining to another today that you are very important and worked hard at Hospira, but work here on the weekends anyway.'  Now, I do not talk about what I do at Hospira with my McDonald's peers, nor do they know that I have a MS in Biological Sciences.  Simply put, I'm not into titles nor do I view myself as anything extraordinary or as possessing superior intelligence; I'm just a normal chick from Northern New York with a mild Canadian accent and a moderate eating disorder. In fact, one critical aspect of my McDonald's job is it is where I can go to just be another piss-on, where no one expects anything from me other than taking orders and cleaning when I feel ambitious. It also is a great way to let my filter adjust and interact with people I can relate too; as sometimes my head gets bogged down in corporate diplomacy. Regardless, I had certainly never thought of myself as 'very important' at Hospira, but now realizing how colleagues at both jobs viewed me served to warm my heart.  I think of myself as a hard worker, and though I neither seek nor desire validation of that fact, it is nevertheless nice to hear it's sociological verification.

This all gets to the heart of why I choose to work at McDonald's, I find it rewarding on multiple levels and genuinely love seeing and conversing with my colleagues as well as the customers, with astoundingly few exceptions. And yes, there are indeed exceptions.  One of my co-workers does nothing but complain. When he inevitably starts in about his fiancee's many correspondences with prison inhabitants (in truth, I find this hilarious and can't decide whether she's crazy or just really nice), lack of money, or the fact he's tired, I have to constantly remind him that he has two choices: change the situation or accept it for what it is. I will not suffer complacent complainers; I may have compassion, but I have not a shred of sympathy as there are few things that are completely out of our control to change. One can at least take steps to alleviate their discomfort, even if it doesn't completely fix their situation.  On another occasion, a old lady once bellowed, after I asked her if she wanted a Ranch, Honey Mustard or Chipotle BBQ Snack Wrap, "Can't you hear?! I said Ranch!."  I was so stunned that I just stared at her blankly, contemplating what on earth would possess someone to treat a complete stranger with such abhorrent meanness.  I quickly decided that she must be possessed by the Devil, and there was a split second as I acknowledged my pissed-off meter was near boiling over.  I knew I had to decide whether to rise above the situation with serenity or light into this old bag like a ravenous mongoose.  I decided to satiate the inner animal.  Unfortunately I don't remember the rest of the interaction because I suffer from mild rage black-outs, but I remember saying something about borrowing her hearing aid and came-to in the bathroom a short while later.

And though I don't work there for the money, there's also the fact that one McDonald's shift can buy me a week's worth of groceries, and is thereby allowing me to rapidly pay off my credit card debt and get work done on my house.  It's enough incentive to get me through the infrequent rough patches. So, for now, I'm Lovin' It!

Thought of the Day 09/08/2013: Things That Make You Say "Huh"

Three separate occurrences today made me stop and say "Huh;" first in a quizzical sense, the next in a 'that's interesting' sense and the last in a flat out 'WTF' sense.  Granted, my shifts at McDonald's are always fun in some way or another, or I wouldn't keep the job (I certainly don't work there for the money), but today was just kind of strange.

1. A production worker from Hospira came through early in the morning, as she always does when the B1 shift works weekends.  Though I can't say I've ever seen her at Hospira since we have over 1,000 production personnel, we've built quite the rapport during our run-ins at McDonald's when I'm cashiering for the drive-thru.  She'd seen me yesterday around the same time, but today when she saw me she exclaimed, "Do you ever take a day off?!"  I explained that I typically take one day off ever two weeks, but due to a plethora of circumstances I hadn't taken my day off for the past four weeks, and I have two more to go until the next.  I said this in the tone I truly felt, the 'It's no biggie' tone.  She warned me against working myself to the bone, and as she drove up to collect her food from the second window I thought "Huh."  Here's a woman that works 12 hour shifts in  production, something I could never do for multiple reasons and which subsequently leads me to believe that she is one of the hardest workers I know, yet she is telling ME that I work too hard.  Huh, indeed.
2. The next two 'Huhs' require me to provide some background on the inner workings of the McDonald's Drive-Thru; not a terribly titillating topic I admit, but necessary nonetheless.  Our store has two lanes.  The primary order taker, on the busiest lane since it's the closest to the building (I thought this was BS when I first heard it, but it's proven to me everyday I work there), is stationed at the back with the cashier.  The secondary order taker works upfront and helps make drinks and collect the food.  The cashier takes the money for both lanes via a computer that shows a picture of the car and their order; you tap the picture to cash out the car.  Sometimes when we're understaffed, or is not a busy time of day, the cashier also functions as the primary order taker.  It's manageable but can be quite confusing when you're getting change for someone while someone else is simultaneously giving you an order that has to be tapped into a separate computer.  When I do it this, I feel like a mentally impaired SuperWoman.  Both hands tapping both computers and making sure my mic out to the lane isn't on as I curse because I mis-counted someone else's change.  Anyway, when I returned from break the primary order taker went on hers and handed me the headset.  After a bit I took an order from a funny guy who asked me if I took 'Fours', as in a $4 bill since his order came to $3.something.  When he pulled up to the window he was still giggling.  Now, I love cashiering because it allows me to converse with everyone and I delight in talking to people and seeing their dogs, etc.  I greeted him jovially in return, and after I took his cash he said "You have a great smile," to which I beamed.  Who doesn't love a compliment like that?!  I empathically thanked him for the ego boost and he responded "Don't thank me, thank your Mother" as he drove off.  This made me stop and think, "Huh."  He's absolutely right, so, thanks Mom (and Dad)!
3. This one is kinda creepy.  I'm still not quite sure what to think of it.  It sometimes happens that a customer will order and then, for whatever reason, drive off.  When this happens I have to get a manager to take the car/order off my screen.  I was again flying solo and I noticed a nice looking silver mustang with a nominal order, a McDouble with some kind of special order (No Ketchup or whatever) and a small fry, but there were no cars in either lane and no one at my window, so I deduced that it was a drive-off.  I notified a manager, she removed it, all was well.  A short time later, however, a car came to my lane and ordered a McDouble without Ketchup and a small fry; which I thought nothing of at first, but when I confirmed the order a hit the 'Store' button that sends the order to the cashier computer, I saw the same mustang pop up and immediately thought 'Deja vu.'  It was the same order I had just had removed!  I naturally assumed the girl had forgotten her money or something like that, but thought it odd nonetheless.  Usually cars drove off because they're pissed at waiting, or at the incompetence of their order taker, haha; but random drive-offs during slow periods are not common.  When I took her credit card for payment I happened to look at her name.  I shit you not, this chick's name was Deja!  Deja, en Francois, literally means 'again'.  I damn near hit the floor.  I became convinced this chick was some kind of Voodoo queen, and hurriedly got her on her way.  I'm not sure why this spooks me so much, rationally it had to just be a crazy coincidence.  Still, WTF?!

Pumpkin Pie.....Mmmmm!

On a random note, though I don't typically condone eating the processed, chemical-ridden, sludge that is McDonald's food, try the new pumpkin pie; it's friggin' delicious! [Note: Please don't hold me responsible if you try it and don't like it, try it and burn your mouth because it was really hot, or try it and proceed to eat 100 more over the course of a week and consequently gain 10 pounds; none of these things are my responsibility.]

Thought of the Day 09/06/2013: Being My Own Best Friend

As I was mentally gearing up to enter the 'cold' bathroom at work (I usually opt to walk further to avoid this one since its kept at 58 degrees), I thought: "Ok, are we ready? We'll be alright so long as my ass doesn't freeze to the seat." I giggled as I walked in.

I say these types of things to myself often, funny reactions to things I see and experience, and today I realized that this is what makes my Mind my favorite companion.  So long as my sense of humor is intact, I'm my own best friend and live in a happy existence.  This epiphany came to me, however, because I know what its like to feel like I'm sharing my Body with a complete stranger, and its terrifying.  So terrifying, in fact, that it was the one and only time I consented to taking medication to control my anxiety.  My anxiety and panic attacks had gotten so bad that my sense of humor, and everything else I liked about myself, had completely disappeared; gripped only in terror every minute of everyday and never able to glean a beam of light at the end of the tunnel.  I was convinced I had lost my mind, and my extremely hilarious BFF was nowhere to seen; unable to help me see the hilarity of my chronic paranoia and unsettling thoughts.

Since then I've gone down the rabbit hole and back, and though it was a scary journey, I'm grateful.  It taught me that medication such as Zoloft, Paxil, Prozac and other anti-depression/anxiety medications are a fantastic tool to treat mental habits that we can not otherwise controls.  They do not necessarily have to be permanent, serving to correct a particular issue after which one can go back to their normal existence without them, or long-term treatment may be warranted.  Either way, the experience made me realize that there is help, and I shouldn't suffer needlessly because I obsessively think that I should be able to fix my own brain chemistry like some kind of friggin' Freudian Jedi.

My typical regimen of meditation, alone/down-time, exercise and healthy diet are typically enough to control my anxiety; even still there are times I completely flip my lid, seemingly for no reason.  During such times nothing is funny and my panic threshold erupts past its breaking point, raw adrenaline courses through my veins and I'm off to the crazy races.  That's when I know it's time to bust out a Xanax and take a mental vacation, everything is hilariously unimportant on Xanax.

[NOTE: I say this in jest, but it's critical to avoid dependence on short-term fixes like Xanax.  If the anxiety is chronic, then a long-term treatment like an SSRI (those mentioned above), are infinitely more appropriate.]