Workplace Seriousness, Stereotypes, Mentors, and Ridiculousness

I didn’t really understand that for years I’d been paying my professors a big wad of cash. Sure, I didn’t give professors a handshake like a mobster paying off a politician, but I was paying big money to sit there and be taught. Of course I didn’t appreciate it at the time. I didn’t realize how rare it is to have a professional in your field dispensing wisdom like a gumball machine. Because at work we’re not paying them any longer. No, no, they’re paying us. They expect us to figure it out.

1. A BIG clock—and not one that uses simpleton numbers, but is engraved with intellectual Roman Numerals. As someone jaunts into your office, they will stand at attention and know that your time is important, and most likely, much more important than theirs. And if you can also get a GIANT clock that displays time from different parts of the world, now they’ll know your time has even reached International Status.
2. A midsized statue of any predatory-type animal perched on the front of your desk like it’s ready to pounce. A mouse or cat won’t do. No, you need a giant hawk or bear swooping on an unsuspecting fish. Then if any disagreements arise in your office with Sam the Simpleton, you can stop and stare at the statue, then back at him as if to say, one of us is the bear, the other the fish. Need I say more?
3. Don’t even think of bringing in that college photo collage adorned with red cutout hearts. No, you need 2–3 personal photos on your walls, max. One of them of your significant other or kids. The other of you shaking the hand of a celebrity. That way your coworkers know when you offer them a handshake, you are offering them the Hand of Legends.
4. Any Joe Schmo can have a computer in their office. That’s so 2000. But two computer screens, side by side, with one of them preferably the size of a large flat-screen TV. Now we’re working. You have so much Important-Ness on your computer you need a home-theater system to contain it all.
5. A desk space that looks like you have a Mini-Mr. Clean living in your drawer who comes out at nights.
6. A framed Motivational Poster about the secret to being successful. This screams I Am the Office Sensei and I work on a higher plane than you.
7. A fat, shiny, silver pen on your desk. You don’t even want to know how many big deals I’ve signed with this Ball-Penned Bad-Boy. No seriously, if I told you, your Sales-Assistant-Self would cry.
8. A coffeemaker. And not your secondhand Mr. Coffee from storage. No, we’re talking an espresso-pressing, latté-making, NASA-Commissioned Contraption that says, “I’m cool and I’m caffeinated. Try to slip something past me, I dare you.”
9. A mini-fridge under your desk. This says: I don’t waste company time searching for a midday meal.
10. A Big Black Leather King’s Throne that puts you three feet higher than anyone else, sitting behind your solid mahogany table imported from Tibet. And a Triple Bonus Score if there’s a rumor around the office that you might have a red button under your desk and God only knows what happens if it is pressed.
11. A serious newspaper like the Wall Street Journal or top industry magazine, preferably worn just enough to say, “Go ahead, ask me what’s on page 54.”
12. A small side table that is solely reserved for awards, framed diplomas, certificates, pictures of you glad-handing VP’s, all with cultural artifacts sprinkled sparsely in between from exotic places like Thailand or South Africa. Oh I’m sorry, did you forget how important I am? Have you not beheld my Side Table?
13. One large potted plant to prove that you can make anything flourish in tough conditions.
14. A Complex Contraption from the Year 2050 that moves, oozes, swings, turns, or balances. Yes, I can spend large sums of money on something that has no functional purpose. And yes, I possibly have the power to travel in time.
15. Or an office with all blank walls and nothing in it but a desk and laptop. Something that says, I’m not married to anything happening in this place and can leave at the drop of a pay stub. Think I’m bluffing? Just try me.
16. A home office. Where you can do and wear whatever you want. Or a laptop and a camping chair set outside in some beautiful location, where your biggest office flex is the fact you’re not contained by one.

Generational stereotyping is all the rage these days. For some reason we think a generation can be summed up with a two-paragraph label like a box of Wheat Thins. If you feel like you’re being stereotyped because of your age, your best ally is humble consistency—a steady steadfastness that shows up and gets the job done every day. You don’t argue with them about your skill set, you just show them how awesome your skills are, and most importantly, that you’re hungry to learn more. Don’t stress about getting a raise too soon. Don’t worry that you don’t love every aspect of your job. Just keeping doing a good job at your job, and those things will come. It’s a tough, thankless gig, but soon, very soon, you’ll prove to them that you’re a person, not an age range.

Many twentysomethings love talking to each other about The Problem, without realizing that they’re all seeing The Problem from the exact same angle, which becomes The Biggest Problem of them all. We need some different perspectives. We need the wily old vets in our lives getting all kinds of profound and grizzled on us. And we need some young kids in our sphere to remind us that the smallest things in life can be outrageous and fun. Let’s quit living like we’re the lead role in The Twentysomething Sitcom and if any older person makes an appearance it’s only for comic relief. Let’s stop being Twentysomething Pod People. That has B-movie-straight-to-streaming written all over it.

Taking yourself too seriously is very serious work. Very important, steadfast, I-can’t-be-bothered business. Where you save up every penny to buy a one-way ticket to Boredullameville—it’s kind of like living at Disneyland, except the exact opposite. And there at Boredullameville, you can even be the mayor. You can fret over your reports. You can wear slacks and use big words. You can prove the magnitude of your intellect with every “But the data says otherwise.” You can give projects to subordinates and never look them in the eye. You can talk policy, procedure, and protocol all the livelong day. You can send out fiery emails perched behind your big oak desk, cc’ing the whole village. Yes, you can be Mayor of Boredullameville and there spend your days living a very efficient, never-change-lanes-cruise-control life. You can make as much waves as a dead, dry leaf falling into a puddle of water. It’s awesomely un-awesome. Or you can live differently. You can live ridiculously. The #1 rule to living ridiculously? Never, ever, under any circumstances, worry if people think you’re ridiculous. Ridiculous people don’t even know where Boredullameville is on the map, let alone have any desire to run for office there. Haters love to hate. Boring people love to bore. The realistic live all too real. Naysayers love their ample amounts of nay. On the other hand, ridiculous people live with their bodies dipped in awesome and they don’t care who crawls out from under a rock to tell them that painting your body in awesome is not the appropriate or responsible use of resources. Ridiculous people are these weird, wild people that actually make you feel alive. They take one step in the room and the heavy weight of Stuffy Adult-Dom floats away like a helium balloon. Ridiculous people believe in others more than others believe in themselves. Then they constantly encourage others to see the truth that they see. Ridiculous people care more about doing what’s right than what will look right to others. I want to be ridiculous. Are you with me?