Another kind of magical thinking

I just thought of something.

When the boys were little, one commitment I always made to them was to support them up through the bachelor's degree. Not that I expected to boot them out of the house right after that, or at least not necessarily 😃, but that I recognized the bachelor's degree as somehow the threshold of adulthood. Before that, they could rely on me paying their bills. After that, I'd be glad to help out here and there but they should consider themselves to be basically on their own and make plans accordingly. And in fact Son 1 lived with me for a year or so after his graduation, and lately I've been paying Son 2's rent.

But when I look at the timing of the shutdown of my office, the timing of my losing my job with no necessary promise of finding another ... when I look at that, I realize that Son 2 graduated last May. There were other times in the last sixteen years when the business outlook has been grim, but somehow we always hung in there by our fingernails. Somehow I always continued to draw a paycheck. 

So if I wanted to look at the world this way, I could say that as soon as Son 2 graduated in May, I had fulfilled my commitment to them. Since I no longer own a house and I am formally separated from Wife, the last vestiges of my householder status are gone now and I can move on to something else. And so — if I chose to see it this way — I could imagine that the glass bowl over me that protected me from unemployment through all those years was no longer needed and came off. To be clear, that really is magical thinking, because it supposes that events in the world are affected by my own personal statements of will. Also it implies that the world really does revolve around me, which I don't actually believe. I'm aware that anyone can assemble random events into a narrative that looks coherent even when there is nothing to it, and this is plainly one of those narratives.

But yeah, it did occur to me.

OK, this part is magical thinking

I figured out why I continue to fret that I'm relying on magical thinking in my decision not to move to Sticksville. 

It's because the whole situation -- the whole set-up -- looks so much like one of my recurring fantasies, that some time soon Everything Will Change and I'll start doing an entirely different kind of work, or I'll run away and join the circus, or I'll have the time to be a freelance philosopher, or something else equally unlikely. See for example here or here or here or here, where I talk about exactly this. 

Is this why I don't worry about finding a job, even though I'm old enough that I should expect serious age discrimination? The question is based on a false premise: in fact I do worry about it. That's why I first decided to go. And I'm still worried about it: that's why I asked my mom if I could move back home with her in extremis. That won't do much good for Wife, to be fair, because if I stop earning income then I stop paying alimony. Anyway, yes I'm worried.

But some small corner of my brain -- the corner that is willing to believe in meaningful coincidences and magical timing -- does wonder if this is the time, finally? 

That's a terrible reason to make a decision, of course, and I think it's not why I'm making this one. Also it might never happen that I do anything wonderful or even interesting with the freedom of unemployment: see for example my thoughts here and here. Or see any of my posts (no time to hunt them up and link them right now) about how my father pissed away his decades of "retirement," leaving behind nothing to show for any of them. That could be me too, though I surely hope it won't be. 

But I have to recognize that this is one component of the conversation inside my head. For whatever that's worth.

  

Overthinking

Sunday night, I sent an email to HR and to New Boss saying that -- given how the job is shaping up -- I'm not the right guy for it.

Monday, HR called to talk to me. First, they weren't sure what I meant. Then when I explained, they said the job was still mine for the asking in case I should change my mind.

Tuesday (today), I talked to New Boss. First, he wasn't sure what I meant. (Am I that bad at writing a simple email?) Then when I explained, he said the job was still mine for the asking in case I should change my mind. More exactly, he said, "My intent was never to say I don't want you here." And yes, he did leave the door open in case I were to change my mind. I said I understand, and than you. (But no.)

But of course I can't help wondering if I'm making the right choice. I look at the table I made over the weekend, and I wonder if there are simple conceptual errors I'm falling into. Is it magical thinking to want to stay near my mom because she's old and something might happen to her even though she appears to be in good health? Or is it common sense that anyone over the age of eighty is likely to be fragile, and that in any event she might get lonely from time to time ... like she actually said she does? Is it awfulizing to fear that I'll die in a blizzard, or that the business unit will go broke and I'll be turned loose with no similar jobs anywhere in the area? Or is it normal prudence not to rush into a situation where there are serious potential risks unless there is also a powerful countervailing inducement? And how high do I have to rank the inducement of keeping my paycheck, compared with the likelihood of (a) things turning bad in Sticksville or conversely (b) finding another job nearer to home?

Then this afternoon I thought of another possible error, the one characterized by Nassim Nicholas Taleb when he wrote:

 “If you have more than one reason to do something (choose a doctor or veterinarian, hire a gardener or an employee, marry a person, go on a trip), just don’t do it. It does not mean that one reason is better than two, just that by invoking more than one reason you are trying to convince yourself to do something. Obvious decisions (robust to error) require no more than a single reason.”

― Nassim Nicholas Taleb, Antifragile: Things That Gain from Disorder 

What about my table? Don't I have multiple reasons for both sides? Does this mean I'm screwed either way I turn?

Not really. In the first place, note that he talks about a reason "to do something," and remember that Taleb prioritizes inaction over action ("via negativa") as less likely to produce bad results. So if the question is, "Should I move?" then the time to worry is if I start telling myself "Sure, because I'll keep my job and also lose weight and also meet new people and also ...." In the second place, the multiple reasons are window dressing. All this time, the real decision has boiled down to a binary choice with one reason on each side:

• Move to Sticksville: Because that way you can keep your job.
• Don't move to Sticksville: Because I really don't want to.

As I say, all the rest is decoration, or else it is trying to predict the future -- to elicit some sense of what lies down each road in turn so that I can see if it changes how I feel. So far it really hasn't.

Maybe that's what a decision looks like.

  

I don't want to move, part 2

I visited my mother this weekend. She has had both her COVID-19 shots, so I took the risk and stayed overnight. And I talked to her about my situation.

On my side, I found that I could make a good argument for New Boss's point of view. The company's needs have, in fact, changed. There is, in fact, a whole department in another city that does the work I used to do. (For various reasons that wasn't exactly true before.) And the other tasks, the stuff he wants me to work on, really are urgently important to the business. From that perspective, I'm wrong for the job and the job is wrong for me. The only thing that either of us offers the other is immediate availability. But everyone will tell you that it's better to hire the right person than to settle for the person that just happens to be handy right now.

What if I can't find work again … ever? I flat out asked Mother how she would feel if I became a boomerang child at the age of 60, having to come back to live with her because I'm broke? To my surprise, she said that would be fine. She has lived all alone since my father died, and that was over five years ago. She's getting lonely. Also she's not as physically spry as she used to me, and she could probably use the help. She said she wouldn't want to hold me back if I really desperately wanted to move to Sticksville; but if I choose to stay in the area she'd be grateful. She even said it might be OK for me to move in with her even if I did find a job. This was all good to hear. It gives me a safety net.

So I made the table below, to try to collect my thoughts. It doesn't tell me anything I don't already know, but it organizes it all for me. Basically the move to Sticksville is good (green type) from the perspective of staying employed in the immediate future (with no guarantees about the long term) and bad (red type) in every other respect. Staying here -- rejecting the move -- is bad from the perspective of staying employed in the immediate future, and either good or unpredictable (black type) in every other respect. Rejecting the move has way more unknowns involved, but it also has more upside. Making the move is more predictable (at least in the short run) but I don't like what I see.

When people give advice about this sort of thing they always say, Take the risk! Don't settle for something you know you're going to hate just because it is a known quantity. And in fact even if I were to move to Sticksville, I can't guarantee that I'd still have a job 12 months from now. Or 24 months from now. (There are threats to the business that make it look pretty risky right now. Who knows what will happen?) And if I were unceremoniously dumped out of work, now I'd be on the other side of the country in a place I didn't like with no family nearby. Not an encouraging prospect.

I think I want to stay. Scratch that -- I know I want to stay. I think I'm going to choose to stay. I just wish I knew how to swing the income side of the equation.

Move to Sticksville	Don’t move to Sticksville
Income:
Employment guaranteed. No guarantee for how long.	Unemployed. Have to look for new work. No guarantee that I’ll find work, because of age.
Chance the whole business unit might fold in two years.	Not relevant.
Still able to pay Wife’s alimony and provide her medical insurance.	Unable to pay alimony unless/until new job. No guarantee I can afford COBRA for her.
Kind of work:
Work doesn’t match my strengths. Potentially set up to fail.	Who knows what I’ll find? Maybe something great, maybe something terrible, maybe nothing.
Don’t trust my boss.	If I don’t trust the person who offers me a job, I don’t have to take it. But I might not have much choice.
Location:
Don’t like the town.	Like my town. Like my mother’s town.
Don’t like the plant.	Who knows what I’ll find?
Far from family.	Near to family.
Mother is getting old.	Able to live with or near Mother if needed.

I don't want to move

I don't want to move to Sticksville.

And I don't want to work for this new guy that I now work for.

A week or two ago, a guy from HR called me. There's a new boss in my department since the end of last year. He relocated to Sticksville (where most of the department is) to take it over. And HR Guy called me to say that it sounded like New Boss has been changing my job description. Did I know anything about this?

Well, yes, kind of. New Boss has made a number of remarks about the things I am especially good at, indicating that he thinks they are luxuries and not really something the company can afford right now. He has asked me to do other things -- tasks I don't know and have to learn -- which are the things he says we really need right now. And he has said he doesn't understand why Old Boss rated me so highly on everything in my annual reviews when to New Boss's eyes it looks like my past performance has been barely scraping by. And he thinks I'm overpaid, though he didn't quite use that word. So yes, I had some inkling of this.

HR Guy said we should make it all really clear, before I move clear across the country. So he nudged another HR associate to call a meeting, inviting HR Guy, New Boss, and me. New Boss prepared some PowerPoint slides showing how my job description will change, and how the requirements will change with it. Sure enough, the tasks that I'm best at have been downgraded to "Also..." status, while some new things that I would have to learn from scratch now take pride of place. There are some of the new job requirements that I flat out fail to meet. None of it was a surprise … not exactly … but it certainly collected all the bad news in one place.

We talked. I said thank you, and carefully avoided saying anything either for or against the new job description. Half an hour later, HR Guy called me again to ask what I thought. I told him none of it was much of a surprise. He said my tone in the meeting made him think I was looking for a way out. Since I didn't explicitly tell him he was right, he added that he was glad to learn that he had been wrong, and signed off. 

Now I know that all my remarks during the call were very neutral, because I was speaking very carefully the whole time. I said the new job description "wasn't a surprise." Strictly speaking, that's not the same as saying that I liked it or accepted it. HR Guy jumped to the conclusion that it meant everything was fine, but only because he let himself be distracted by the careful irrelevance of my answer. So I think I know what HR Guy was reacting to; I also know that he doesn't know what triggered his foreboding, because if he had known he would have seen straight through my reply.

The reality, I'm pretty sure, is that he was not reacting to anything I said, but rather to one specific thing that I did not say. Never, in all these months from last August straight up to the present, have I said that I want to move to Sticksville. Not once.

Let me interrupt the story for a moment to point out that I can counter-argue every single thought here.

• It bothers me that New Boss is changing my job description and requirements to focus on things I'm not good at; it makes me feel like I'm being set up for failure. But you could also argue that I've gotten intellectually sedentary by doing the same damned things over and over again, and maybe it would do me good to have to learn some new skills.
• At an emotional level, I just don't trust New Boss. But you could also argue that I scarcely know him, and that I am overreacting to a bunch of little things instead of keeping my eye on the big picture and letting the little stuff slide.
• It makes me uncomfortable how seriously he reinterpreted my annual reviews to say that the goals which Old Boss agreed I'd achieved didn't count. In New Boss's eyes, only one of them rated "partly achieved" and the other two rated "nothing done." On the one hand, that indicates a pretty profound gap between how he sees the world and how I see it, and gaps like that can be problems for any working relationship. On the other hand, to fret over this feels a little bit like whining, "But Miss Jenkins always gave me an A, so why won't you?!"
• 
  
  It's true that I totally do not want to move to Sticksville. But early in my marriage to Wife we moved across the country to graduate school. We had each applied to two graduate schools, one in our home state and one across the country (the same two, to be clear). We agreed to go wherever we both got in, and in the end that meant the one on the other side of the country. Wife kicked and moaned and wept and stormed over "having" to move out-of-state. She had lived her whole life in the same state, and now it was like I had told her to enroll in the University of Hell. (To be clear, I got into both schools but she didn't. So going to this faraway school was the only way that she could a graduate program too, instead of -- say -- working to support me while I studied.) Once we got to the distant city -- which I loved -- she was chronically resentful. Every little bit of bad luck that we stumbled over was (in her mind) all the fault of our having moved to such a godforsaken town in a godforsaken state. And so when I recognize my own strong feelings against moving to Sticksville, I wonder if I am just being like Wife?

What do I do now? This meeting, and the new job description, are the opportunity if I want to change my mind: I can tell New Boss, "Sorry, dude, but now that you spell it out I really can't sign up for that." But I can't wait too long. So what do I say?

I discussed the situation with Marie on Wednesday. She was careful not to give advice, but she reflected back to me something about the tone of my voice. She said that when I talked about not moving, my voice sounded much more alive than when I talked about moving. And she suggested this might indicate something about what I really want. Sort of like John Eldredge's admonition, "Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive." 

I discussed it with Debbie tonight. She, too, was careful not to give advice. But she did note a couple of things. 

• First, she said that she had confidence in my ability to figure it out. That's great to hear. I only wish I felt the same confidence. 😀
• Second, after I told her that I feel one way but also argue myself out of it, she said that it is important for me to recognize and pay attention to my feelings.
• Third, when I suggested that maybe my antipathy to New Boss was just whining about little shit, she pointed out that little things can grow into big things; also that when you see things right at the beginning of any interpersonal relationship that disturb you, you should take notice. I replied that I had been thinking the exact same thing, with explicit reference to my marriage to Wife.
• When we were done with the call and signing off, Debbie straight up said "I love you." No quiet voice, no shyness. Just the complete reassurance of her love and support. I love you too Debbie. Always will.

Tomorrow I'm going to visit my Mom, and discuss it with her too. Maybe I'll be ready with an answer by Monday. That's not too late, is it?

Death in the air, 2

I remarked yesterday that I've been reminded of death seemingly a lot in the last six weeks or so. So I put some of those thoughts in an email to Marie, who wrote me back today. Here are a few excerpts from what she said.

Hey, sweetness.

Some conversations work better when we can hold each other for comfort.

But I noticed in myself, last visit, a reluctance to "spoil" our short time together by having a depressing conversation.  

So I mentioned that you seemed to have developed sleep apnea since my last visit, but I didn't mention how it worried me.  Particularly in conjunction with other changes I noticed.  Did you talk to your doctor?  And is he knowledgeable about that condition?  Because sleep apnea can lead to metabolic syndrome and heart problems, and you're already at fairly high risk for that.  It worries me, how tired you've been.  Might be just depression, which would be bad enough; but it might be something worse.

I am frankly more frightened that you might suffer a heart attack, my beloved, than I am that you'll freeze to death next winter.  Or even fall again and injure yourself badly, though I was terrified for you when that happened.

Other changes--your tiredness, I've mentioned.  Your weight increase.  Your e.d.--you had no trouble satisfying me, God knows, so I had no complaints there, but knowing you're otherwise at risk makes it seem a sinister sign.

Even how we ate and drank, down there; we were sort of en fete every day, and I didn't know how much that represented a departure from how you have been feeding yourself.  I know that the loneliness and stress of the pandemic led me to comfort myself with food, as is my wont.  And so I have gained back 12 pounds of the 46 I had lost.  But even so, it was noticeable to me that we were eating more rich food, and fewer vegetables and fruits, than I do on my own.  I didn't know how much of that reflected the holidays, and wanting to treat me, and eating up the cheeses and wines you had been given for Christmas, and how much it reflected your normal diet.  The DASH heart-healthy diet recommended by the Mayo Clinic and Harvard Health, for example, recommends 4-5 servings daily of vegetables, and as many of fruit.  I usually easily make that for veggies, and barely make that for fruit.  Of course it's much harder to eat fresh if one only goes shopping every two weeks, so the pandemic has hurt that as well.

Back to your letter proper.

Regarding the other deaths you spoke of... yeah, it's weird to reflect that we're at an age where we have to start expecting people in our cohort to die.  Already it's an exception for my peers to have both parents; I think I have only one friend my age who does.  And those who do still have parents, those parents are fragile.  I guess I personally see that most with Schmidt's mom, since I have known her for forty years now, but seen her only sporadically in that time.  

And I've noticed for a while now the decreased resilience of my own body; so have you.... 

But yeah, it's sobering and frightening to reflect that people our age are starting to die of ordinary diseases, not just of extraordinary circumstances.  As well as saddening, when it's someone we like and value, like Fillette.  

I do love Son 1's comment; how nice he acknowledges that if you died right now, you'd leave an intellectual legacy to be managed, even if he firmly declines to be the one to manage it!  And yeah, I would, but I would much rather talk to you about your writing, than arrange to publish it as a posthumous tribute.

So take care of yourself, my dearest.  Eh?

Loving you always,

Marie

What have I learned?

Yesterday I was cleaning out papers from my office, preparatory to packing it up as I move to Sticksville, and I came across a copy of a paper I read by Peter Drucker back in 2006. The paper in which he says you have to understand how you learn. The paper in which he says that the only way to come to understand yourself is to write down what you think is going to happen when you make a decision, and then check back later to see if you were right. The paper which -- after considerable delay and foot-dragging -- triggered me to start writing this blog. ("I have … learned that I … understand things better if I explain them to others.")

It's been thirteen years since then. Have I learned anything?

Actually I think I have.

I learned that my troubles with Wife stemmed not directly from her infidelities, but from her lying and narcissism, and from the hostility and suspicion with which she treated every overture from me. These things were fueled in her own mind by the guilt she herself felt over her infidelities, but that's not the same thing as saying it was merely my own jealousy.

I learned that my marriage was "an abusive nightmare," although it took me a long time to see it. Quite late, I realized that I was always afraid of Wife. Before that, when I first started thinking about whether there was abuse in the marriage, I was afraid that she would accuse me of it. (I still think there is room for a post that breaks down how far each of us felt abused by the other.) But all of this perspective came only with distance. When I was in the middle of it all, I couldn't think of any pithy way to summarize what I was living with. (Actually, now that I look back through some earlier posts, I think I was starting to understand it even as early as here. But that was still after I had moved out of the house and was living in my own apartment.)

I learned that I'm not (or no longer) really attracted to "high-maintenance women."

I learned some things about my father: that his prurient intrusiveness came from a fear of abandonment and a clawing need to be close to people; that his constant performing and domination of any conversation came from a fear of others and a need to make himself safe. That he never felt free to be who he was, or that he never felt like Enough. 

Nowhere in this list are any insights that would make me more effective as a professional, or that would lead to greater professional success. And that, of course, was the whole point behind Drucker's article. But I did learn that I have tried to avoid great success, or to hide from it. 

I suppose those are good things to have learned. It might have been nice to learn something that was professionally helpful as well, but given the last point I list there it's possible that wasn't in the cards.

Oh well.

Death in the air

It seems like I'm being reminded of death a lot lately.

First there was Fillette.

Then I got the latest issue of my high school alumni magazine, and the In memoriam section listed six boys (well, men now) who had been there when I was: three I remembered well, and three were names that I felt I ought to remember but for whom I couldn't quite call up a face this many years later. But clearly they were all within a couple years of my age, one side or the other. And now they are all dead.

And then today was the funeral for the 20-year-old son of one of my coworkers. Yes, he was way too young. Apparently he died in an accident of some kind, though I never heard if it was, say, automotive or sporting. Either way, though, his parents buried him instead of the other way around. 

You can tell me that it's a First World Problem to assume that children will outlive their parents, that in places without peace and plenty, clean water and good health care, child mortality isn't all that uncommon. Sure. Fine. It was still sad.

The reassuring part, if you want to look at it this way, is that (unless you believe in a punitive afterlife) death shouldn't be a tragedy for the one who dies. His (or her) troubles are over. But of course it is a problem for those of us left behind. 

I really don't have anything intelligent to say about this, do I? It's just strange to be so reminded of it, so frequently, all within just a few weeks. Death is normally kept a lot less visible than that, even when the world is in a pandemic. 

Maybe it's just a reminder that the Real World is still out there, however much we pretend to have domesticated it. And the Real World is a lot stronger than we are.

Once I move to Sticksville, I had probably better make sure all my affairs are in order before the next winter rolls around (I mean the winter of 2021-2022), so that if the weather does kill me, it won't be a nuisance for the boys. A year or two ago, Son 1 explicitly told me "I'm not gonna Christopher-Tolkien your ass when you die," * but fortunately Marie has already volunteered to do that instead. If only I can get myself organized, huh?

* (Actually that's an interesting thing for him to say, because I honestly don't remember ever talking to the boys about having anything to write -- I'm thinking of the kind of thing I publish on the Patio, or even some of this maundering if only it were organized and tightened up. Of course, children often know their parents better than the parents know themselves.)

Maybe I should have dinner and go to bed.

Tired

My God, but I'm tired.

I've gone into the office every day this week. I'm nearly the only one there, except for the crew that are dismantling the place around me because we are shutting it down. But my desk there is set up more comfortably than my desk at home, and I'm not so near my refrigerator. I can still get distracted but it's a better place to work.

And by 3:30 this afternoon I was so dead tired that I had to pack up and go home. I can think of a couple of possible reasons.

• I've taken over responsibility for supporting a bunch of projects that are being worked-on by a team on the other side of the world — literally — and so once or twice a week I have to join a phone call at 4:30 in the morning, my time. So I've taken to getting up at 4:00, joining the call, then having breakfast or showering or whatever else I decide to do until I pull up my socks and get back to work. It's as if I just moved east by two time zones. So from that point of view, 3:30 is "really" 5:30, which is a fine time to knock off work and go home.
  
  
• I haven't exercised in a month.
  
  
• When COVID-19 broke out we shut off the coffee machine at work, fearing it could be a source of infection. Yes, if I get myself organized I can bring coffee from home, but that requires … you know … getting organized.
  
  
• I'm starting to realize that I really do have to move to Sticksville. It's supposed to be less than two months from now. I better get organized. Get rid of stuff I don't need. Pack. How much of this do I want to do? Bupkes.
  
  
• I have a new boss now. My former boss was here in this country on a four-year contract and visa. That expired at the end of 2020 and he went home. Yesterday I had a goal-setting phone call with my new boss. The week before I'd had another call with him. The takeaways seem to be:
• The stuff I'm particularly strong at is unimportant to him, and I should stop doing it. I should do more of the stuff that everyone else in the department does.
• I'm overpaid. (He didn't quite use those words, but it was clear.)
• He can't for the life of him figure out what my former boss saw in me, why he insisted that I be offered a transfer, or why he rated me so highly in his year-end review. This new guy admits he doesn't know me yet, but he also says he doesn't see it.
• He really hated it when I even hinted that I might have accepted the job in Sticksville because I couldn't find a job here at home. OK, dude, I get that you don't want me to say things like that. So I won't. Doesn't stop them from being true, but if you don't want to hear the truth I don't have to tell you. Suit yourself. 
• It feels like the list goes on and on. They were two very long phone calls.
  
  
• Or maybe it's just the sleep apnea. I'd forgotten all about that until I logged in to post this.

Of course now I've been home for a couple hours and browsed the Internet for a while and had a few drinks and I don't feel so tired. But wow, earlier this afternoon I really felt like death warmed over.

Maybe I'm just tired because of getting up so early. Maybe I just need more coffee. Maybe I am really bloody depressed. I'm not taking bets on which. 

Maybe I'll just get another drink and go to bed.