For a small portion of today, instead of doing work, I figured out how much work I do. Because I do a lot. And I wanted numbers.
Over the past two years, I was on call for our pilot plant or manufacturing 50% of the time. That meant for half of the time, anytime, I could get called about an issue I would have to deal with.
Over the past two years, I worked around 40% of the weekends, at least one day.
Added up, only 13% of my time over the past two years has been completely free - not on call, not in the office or lab. Someone else at my company who wasn't on call or working weekends would be free 37% of the time. If you only got weekends off - no vacation or holidays - you'd be free 28% of the time. And that 13% includes the entire month I took off last December, to make up for all the overtime I had worked up to that point.
Yeahhhhhhh.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Low Standards
As I contemplate my home search, I realize I have low standards.
I know this because I watch a lot of HGTV.
On HGTV, buyers walk through potential homes complaining about the size of the bedrooms, the placement of the bathrooms in relation to other rooms, whether there are double sinks, the size of the master bath, if the metal trim or light fixtures are gold instead of silver, if the stove is electric instead of gas, that the countertops aren't granite, and more.
I have preferences, too, of course. I prefer vanities over pedestal sinks (more storage). I prefer gas over electric. And who doesn't like an updated kitchen?
The thing is I can't afford that much. Well, I understand that banks will lend me more than I feel comfortable with, but that's because we disagree on what "afford" means. And since Bay Area prices are crazy ridiculous (and Peninsula prices even more crazy ridiculous than the Bay Area at large), at my price range I just don't get to be picky.
HGTV buyers care about the size of the bedrooms? I care that there are bedrooms, period.
They care about the placement of the bathrooms? I care about the existence and working state of the single bathroom. More than one bathroom? What's that?
HGTV buyers want gas stoves over electric stoves? I want there to be a stove. Or at least a hookup for a stove, either gas or electric. You'd think the existence of a stove would be a given but it isn't.
So what I'm looking for is simple. A sound foundation, a roof that will last at least a few years, two bedrooms, everything else in working order. And if it was really great, it would have a range hood and a bathroom fan. Which you would think are normal appliances but not out here.
I don't even dare aspire to a dishwasher or air conditioning.
California. It's wack.
I know this because I watch a lot of HGTV.
On HGTV, buyers walk through potential homes complaining about the size of the bedrooms, the placement of the bathrooms in relation to other rooms, whether there are double sinks, the size of the master bath, if the metal trim or light fixtures are gold instead of silver, if the stove is electric instead of gas, that the countertops aren't granite, and more.
I have preferences, too, of course. I prefer vanities over pedestal sinks (more storage). I prefer gas over electric. And who doesn't like an updated kitchen?
The thing is I can't afford that much. Well, I understand that banks will lend me more than I feel comfortable with, but that's because we disagree on what "afford" means. And since Bay Area prices are crazy ridiculous (and Peninsula prices even more crazy ridiculous than the Bay Area at large), at my price range I just don't get to be picky.
HGTV buyers care about the size of the bedrooms? I care that there are bedrooms, period.
They care about the placement of the bathrooms? I care about the existence and working state of the single bathroom. More than one bathroom? What's that?
HGTV buyers want gas stoves over electric stoves? I want there to be a stove. Or at least a hookup for a stove, either gas or electric. You'd think the existence of a stove would be a given but it isn't.
So what I'm looking for is simple. A sound foundation, a roof that will last at least a few years, two bedrooms, everything else in working order. And if it was really great, it would have a range hood and a bathroom fan. Which you would think are normal appliances but not out here.
I don't even dare aspire to a dishwasher or air conditioning.
California. It's wack.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
In the Blood
I'm gathering I shouldn't keep donating blood.
I donated blood earlier this spring right when I was starting to come down with a cold. Surprisingly, they let you donate blood when you're coming down with a cold. I mean, I told them. I guess that if you need a blood transfusion you have bigger problems.
Anyway, that cold sucked. It took me forever to get over it (a few weeks), and it was worse than the other colds I've had. At the time I thought donating blood made it worse, since I didn't have the same amount of white blood cells as before.
Then I donated blood again last Friday, and I've been tired ever since. I've been having trouble sleeping in the heat but that can't account for all of it.
See, the thing is that I only ever barely pass on iron anyway. My cholesterol (which they test when you donate) tends to look bad because I have to stuff myself with meatloaf the week beforehand in order to have enough iron. And I've never had above 12.5 g/dL hemoglobin on the times I have had enough hemoglobin to qualify. The cutoff is 12.5 exactly, too.
I've always tried to donate blood because I figured other people needed my blood. I don't have any diseases and I'm not afraid of needles, which makes me a good candidate. But with the low iron, the latex allergy (which the technicians sometimes seem to resent me telling them about), and the fact that this happened the first time I tried to donate:
I guess I need my blood too.
I donated blood earlier this spring right when I was starting to come down with a cold. Surprisingly, they let you donate blood when you're coming down with a cold. I mean, I told them. I guess that if you need a blood transfusion you have bigger problems.
Anyway, that cold sucked. It took me forever to get over it (a few weeks), and it was worse than the other colds I've had. At the time I thought donating blood made it worse, since I didn't have the same amount of white blood cells as before.
Then I donated blood again last Friday, and I've been tired ever since. I've been having trouble sleeping in the heat but that can't account for all of it.
See, the thing is that I only ever barely pass on iron anyway. My cholesterol (which they test when you donate) tends to look bad because I have to stuff myself with meatloaf the week beforehand in order to have enough iron. And I've never had above 12.5 g/dL hemoglobin on the times I have had enough hemoglobin to qualify. The cutoff is 12.5 exactly, too.
I've always tried to donate blood because I figured other people needed my blood. I don't have any diseases and I'm not afraid of needles, which makes me a good candidate. But with the low iron, the latex allergy (which the technicians sometimes seem to resent me telling them about), and the fact that this happened the first time I tried to donate:
I guess I need my blood too.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
In Which I Explain The Economy
I've had a breakthrough lately I'm going to share.
I work in cell culture, which involves forcing Chinese hamster ovary cells to make proteins they don't want to make, which someone else then purifies out of the soupy, smelly morass and our company uses in clinical trials or sells on the market.
My job is to try and make as much drug as possible. Our manufacturing facilities are a certain size, so how much drug comes out of each reactor is ultimately a function of only two things: how many cells there are, and how much drug each cell makes. There are a lot of factors that change how many cells there are, and a few things that affect how much drug each cell makes, but when it comes right down to it that's all you've got.
There are a lot of options to get more cells. Higher temperature, more food, sometimes less food, better food, special food, etc. How much drug each cell makes is mostly genetic and I don't understand a lot of it. It's harder to change, so we talk about it more. It even gets its own name: "Specific productivity".
The realization I've had is that our economy works the same way. I've been confused by different explanations of the economy. Some people say government spending grows the economy, some say it doesn't, etc. Because how does an economy grow?
Like cells!
(FYI, I know I'm a nerd, no one needs to point this out.)
Economies grow. Obviously. Otherwise we'd still be living in wood-heated houses without electricity or access to dental care. Like Europe outside the major cities which no one seems to acknowledge. Cough. Obviously TVs get cheaper from year to year. Obviously every person has more stuff than before. More food, more cars, more technology, larger homes, more clothes, more cable channels, etc. So where does it come from?
Just like cell culture, there are only two ways: more people who make stuff, or each person making more stuff.
If there are more people who are producing things, be it services or actual physical things like cars or breakfast cereal or knit caps to sell on Etsy, there is a net increase in things. This would be population growth. It could either be more people actually existing (more immigration, more births) or more people working (like when women started entering the work force). Conversely, the productive population decreases with unemployment, when people leave the work force (voluntarily or not).
Just like cells, specific productivity is harder. Each person has to make more things. And that sounds hard, but it happens all the time. The first time you knit a cap it takes forever and is ugly. By the tenth hat you're whipping them out three a day and can do patterns and stripes. Every time you implement a computer system that saves time off of doing something, that increases specific productivity. Every time you automate an activity, freeing up a person to work at something else, you're increasing specific productivity. For instance, a bank with five workers could only handle so many customers a day. But with ATMs that can handle the mundane withdrawals and deposits, those workers can handle more complex transactions, sell mortgages, etc.
And with that concept, everything is starting to make sense to me. For instance, how could our economy grow during this recession? Well, for one, I think they're fudging all the numbers, but even so, the economy can grow if the increase in specific productivity is larger than the decrease in productive population. Unemployment has risen, but companies are doing the same work with fewer workers or workers are putting in longer hours, both of which would increase specific productivity.
It also explains why bounce-backs from recessions can be pronounced. If the workforce increases its specific productivity during recessions because they had to make do with fewer workers, when the population grows again the total production will increase at a faster rate than if the old specific productivity had been maintained. It's as if recessions are opportunities to learn - to winnow the chaff - to get rid of the dead weight - to make things more efficient.
And it helps me understand why the current recession has gone on so long. Mostly, the government's intervention has messed with both ends of the scale. Extended unemployment insurance keeps the population down, because people have financial incentive to stay unemployed (let's face it, we're all lazy and wouldn't work if someone is actually paying us to sit on our butts and watch TV). Stimulus funds to governments and companies to prevent layoffs means they don't have to learn out of necessity and don't increase their specific productivity. It may have prevented additional population decrease, but not enough.
This way makes much more sense to me than anyone who describes the economy as a pie.
I work in cell culture, which involves forcing Chinese hamster ovary cells to make proteins they don't want to make, which someone else then purifies out of the soupy, smelly morass and our company uses in clinical trials or sells on the market.
My job is to try and make as much drug as possible. Our manufacturing facilities are a certain size, so how much drug comes out of each reactor is ultimately a function of only two things: how many cells there are, and how much drug each cell makes. There are a lot of factors that change how many cells there are, and a few things that affect how much drug each cell makes, but when it comes right down to it that's all you've got.
There are a lot of options to get more cells. Higher temperature, more food, sometimes less food, better food, special food, etc. How much drug each cell makes is mostly genetic and I don't understand a lot of it. It's harder to change, so we talk about it more. It even gets its own name: "Specific productivity".
The realization I've had is that our economy works the same way. I've been confused by different explanations of the economy. Some people say government spending grows the economy, some say it doesn't, etc. Because how does an economy grow?
Like cells!
(FYI, I know I'm a nerd, no one needs to point this out.)
Economies grow. Obviously. Otherwise we'd still be living in wood-heated houses without electricity or access to dental care. Like Europe outside the major cities which no one seems to acknowledge. Cough. Obviously TVs get cheaper from year to year. Obviously every person has more stuff than before. More food, more cars, more technology, larger homes, more clothes, more cable channels, etc. So where does it come from?
Just like cell culture, there are only two ways: more people who make stuff, or each person making more stuff.
If there are more people who are producing things, be it services or actual physical things like cars or breakfast cereal or knit caps to sell on Etsy, there is a net increase in things. This would be population growth. It could either be more people actually existing (more immigration, more births) or more people working (like when women started entering the work force). Conversely, the productive population decreases with unemployment, when people leave the work force (voluntarily or not).
Just like cells, specific productivity is harder. Each person has to make more things. And that sounds hard, but it happens all the time. The first time you knit a cap it takes forever and is ugly. By the tenth hat you're whipping them out three a day and can do patterns and stripes. Every time you implement a computer system that saves time off of doing something, that increases specific productivity. Every time you automate an activity, freeing up a person to work at something else, you're increasing specific productivity. For instance, a bank with five workers could only handle so many customers a day. But with ATMs that can handle the mundane withdrawals and deposits, those workers can handle more complex transactions, sell mortgages, etc.
And with that concept, everything is starting to make sense to me. For instance, how could our economy grow during this recession? Well, for one, I think they're fudging all the numbers, but even so, the economy can grow if the increase in specific productivity is larger than the decrease in productive population. Unemployment has risen, but companies are doing the same work with fewer workers or workers are putting in longer hours, both of which would increase specific productivity.
It also explains why bounce-backs from recessions can be pronounced. If the workforce increases its specific productivity during recessions because they had to make do with fewer workers, when the population grows again the total production will increase at a faster rate than if the old specific productivity had been maintained. It's as if recessions are opportunities to learn - to winnow the chaff - to get rid of the dead weight - to make things more efficient.
And it helps me understand why the current recession has gone on so long. Mostly, the government's intervention has messed with both ends of the scale. Extended unemployment insurance keeps the population down, because people have financial incentive to stay unemployed (let's face it, we're all lazy and wouldn't work if someone is actually paying us to sit on our butts and watch TV). Stimulus funds to governments and companies to prevent layoffs means they don't have to learn out of necessity and don't increase their specific productivity. It may have prevented additional population decrease, but not enough.
This way makes much more sense to me than anyone who describes the economy as a pie.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Big Hands, Small Hands
I used to have a children's book that was a compilation of fantasy and possibly science fiction stories. It had a blue cover, and my name was written on the endpaper because I loaned it to my friend Jen in middle school. I don't remember the name (this will become a theme). I don't remember most of the stories, though it did have a portion of The Silver Chair which was my first introduction to not liking C. S. Lewis.
But one story I remember because it disturbed me. It was about fat little hippopotamus-like creatures that lived underground in burrows like hedgehogs. They drank tea, too, so it was obviously by a British author. I forget the name of their species (see, a theme), but it was cutesy and full of consonants, like Snuffaleupagus only not Snuffaleupagus because that's the character on Sesame Street and he's adorable. Anyway, they were plump and white and you knew this because the short story had several illustrations.
The plot of the story was that this one fat hippopotamus-creature's home was invaded by a thin, black, spider-like creature and I am at this very moment wondering if there were racial themes that went completely over my twelve-year-old head. Anyway, the freaky, spindly creature scared the bejeebers out of the fat thing and after some cloying adventures they became friends.
In any case, I don't know why but the story, or rather the pictures, stuck with me. The bloated white animal contrasting with the spindly black creature. Sometimes the pictures would float into my mind when I was in bed, and they would keep me from going to sleep. It had something to do with the contrast between the fat and the thin gave me a feeling of too much size that confused my brain.
Anyway, all of this is prelude to a weird thing that happened to me today. I was in a meeting with my boss's boss before she goes to China for a few weeks, and all of a sudden the white and black creatures popped into my mind and my hands felt gigantic! I felt as if my hands were suddenly twice their normal size and weight. They felt heavy in my lap, as if my shoulders were being pulled down.
I tried moving them to different positions, but each time they were stationary the sensation came back. My mind kept replaying the comparison that my hands were the explodingly fat white hippo-creatures.
By the end of the meeting the feeling had abated. The meeting went well so I don't think it was a stress response. But it was very strange! I hope I masked it well, though I suspect I was a little less communicative than normal since there was a running dialogue in my head "What the heck--Maybe if I move like this it will--Stupid white guys--my hands aren't like the fat white things--etc".
The front of the book had a dragon on it. Still don't remember the name.
But one story I remember because it disturbed me. It was about fat little hippopotamus-like creatures that lived underground in burrows like hedgehogs. They drank tea, too, so it was obviously by a British author. I forget the name of their species (see, a theme), but it was cutesy and full of consonants, like Snuffaleupagus only not Snuffaleupagus because that's the character on Sesame Street and he's adorable. Anyway, they were plump and white and you knew this because the short story had several illustrations.
The plot of the story was that this one fat hippopotamus-creature's home was invaded by a thin, black, spider-like creature and I am at this very moment wondering if there were racial themes that went completely over my twelve-year-old head. Anyway, the freaky, spindly creature scared the bejeebers out of the fat thing and after some cloying adventures they became friends.
In any case, I don't know why but the story, or rather the pictures, stuck with me. The bloated white animal contrasting with the spindly black creature. Sometimes the pictures would float into my mind when I was in bed, and they would keep me from going to sleep. It had something to do with the contrast between the fat and the thin gave me a feeling of too much size that confused my brain.
Anyway, all of this is prelude to a weird thing that happened to me today. I was in a meeting with my boss's boss before she goes to China for a few weeks, and all of a sudden the white and black creatures popped into my mind and my hands felt gigantic! I felt as if my hands were suddenly twice their normal size and weight. They felt heavy in my lap, as if my shoulders were being pulled down.
I tried moving them to different positions, but each time they were stationary the sensation came back. My mind kept replaying the comparison that my hands were the explodingly fat white hippo-creatures.
By the end of the meeting the feeling had abated. The meeting went well so I don't think it was a stress response. But it was very strange! I hope I masked it well, though I suspect I was a little less communicative than normal since there was a running dialogue in my head "What the heck--Maybe if I move like this it will--Stupid white guys--my hands aren't like the fat white things--etc".
The front of the book had a dragon on it. Still don't remember the name.
Monday, June 13, 2011
On the Art of Conversation
Back in the olden days, higher-class women were judged on their accomplishments:
Painting
Drawing
Embroidery
Hemming
Fancy-work
Designing furniture
Playing the harp
Playing the pianoforte
Singing
Speaking Italian
Speaking French
and many other things I'm sure I don't know about because they haven't featured in Jane Austen novels. But one of the important ones was the art of conversation. The young ladies in society were expected to be able to support wide and varied conversation with anyone who came their way in society.
Speaking personally, I'm not very adept, socially. I've come a long way from how I was in high school or even college. Being part of a big church and working at a big company have a lot to do with that. But new situations make me anxious. I'm exquisitely conscious of saying the wrong thing, which I do frequently. I hear all my own mistakes. So when social interactions go badly, I assume they're my fault.
But I'm beginning to think maybe it isn't my fault all the time. Because I've realized the art of conversation boils down to interaction. It's about one person saying one thing, and the other person saying something related to that thing or asking a question about that thing, then the other person saying something else related to what the second person just said, etc.
I think that's why in the past I've noticed there are some people I can just talk to. With whom conversation is easy and effortless. People who come to mind include my sister, friends from high school, the guy from my heat transfer project sophomore year at Tech whose Facebook profile was him passed out drunk in a mini-fridge, and the ChemE I designated NewGraham to differentiate him from the Graham I already knew from band. When you say something and someone responds based on what you said, and you have a chance to respond to what they said? That's conversation!
The opposite, which is what I'm recognizing now, is monopoly. Where one person doesn't hold up their end of the bargain on responding based on what the other person said. I've noticed a few different flavors:
1. Classic Monologue-ing. This variety includes one person talking only about themselves, their activities, and their interests. They will answer questions but will not ask any. They will not respond based on a comment the second person makes, but will instead continue their initial topic.
2. Monopoly Through Silence. This variety, often masquerading as shyness, is one person's refusal to "reply in kind". They also will answer questions but will not ask any. They will also not respond based on a comment the second person makes, but instead stays silent or makes at most a minimal response like, "Mm," or "Interesting". This forces the second person to continually ask questions to draw the first person out. This might occasionally be legitimate shyness, but can also be laziness or passive-aggression.
3. Disconnected/Superficiality. This specialized variety at first bears the appearance of a real conversation because there appear to be related responses. However the responses don't follow the same vein as the original topic, derailing the conversation the second person wanted to have. For instance, "I had a rough week. My grandfather died on Tuesday. We were really close." "I had a rough week too. I'm supposed to alphabetize a whole drawer of files and I really don't want to." A symptom of this is when one person drops conversational breadcrumbs, but the other person won't follow the trail. "I forgot to buy pears at the store today. I've been very distracted. Work was busy, and also I'm looking for realtors because I've decided to buy a house." Here, a conversational response would be "You're looking for a house? How exciting! What type of house are you looking for?" or "My aunt is a realtor. Would you be interested in working with her? She's a fantastic businesswoman." A disconnected response would be, "Pears are awesome" or "I'm so glad I bought my house four years ago and am done with it. It was a horrible process." Thus, in order to continue the conversation, the second person has to abandon their topic and switch to the first person's topic.
And I'm also realizing how exhausting it is to deal with monopolizers. With type 1, you never get to talk. Less effort, but unless you're intensely interested in every single thing that person has to say, you're going to be bored silly the entire time. With type 2, you talk a lot, but it's only questions. Type 2 is energy-sapping. Type 3 is emotionally exhausting because you never get to say what you want to say.
I tried to make Excel graphs illustrating these but it didn't work.
Painting
Drawing
Embroidery
Hemming
Fancy-work
Designing furniture
Playing the harp
Playing the pianoforte
Singing
Speaking Italian
Speaking French
and many other things I'm sure I don't know about because they haven't featured in Jane Austen novels. But one of the important ones was the art of conversation. The young ladies in society were expected to be able to support wide and varied conversation with anyone who came their way in society.
Speaking personally, I'm not very adept, socially. I've come a long way from how I was in high school or even college. Being part of a big church and working at a big company have a lot to do with that. But new situations make me anxious. I'm exquisitely conscious of saying the wrong thing, which I do frequently. I hear all my own mistakes. So when social interactions go badly, I assume they're my fault.
But I'm beginning to think maybe it isn't my fault all the time. Because I've realized the art of conversation boils down to interaction. It's about one person saying one thing, and the other person saying something related to that thing or asking a question about that thing, then the other person saying something else related to what the second person just said, etc.
I think that's why in the past I've noticed there are some people I can just talk to. With whom conversation is easy and effortless. People who come to mind include my sister, friends from high school, the guy from my heat transfer project sophomore year at Tech whose Facebook profile was him passed out drunk in a mini-fridge, and the ChemE I designated NewGraham to differentiate him from the Graham I already knew from band. When you say something and someone responds based on what you said, and you have a chance to respond to what they said? That's conversation!
The opposite, which is what I'm recognizing now, is monopoly. Where one person doesn't hold up their end of the bargain on responding based on what the other person said. I've noticed a few different flavors:
1. Classic Monologue-ing. This variety includes one person talking only about themselves, their activities, and their interests. They will answer questions but will not ask any. They will not respond based on a comment the second person makes, but will instead continue their initial topic.
2. Monopoly Through Silence. This variety, often masquerading as shyness, is one person's refusal to "reply in kind". They also will answer questions but will not ask any. They will also not respond based on a comment the second person makes, but instead stays silent or makes at most a minimal response like, "Mm," or "Interesting". This forces the second person to continually ask questions to draw the first person out. This might occasionally be legitimate shyness, but can also be laziness or passive-aggression.
3. Disconnected/Superficiality. This specialized variety at first bears the appearance of a real conversation because there appear to be related responses. However the responses don't follow the same vein as the original topic, derailing the conversation the second person wanted to have. For instance, "I had a rough week. My grandfather died on Tuesday. We were really close." "I had a rough week too. I'm supposed to alphabetize a whole drawer of files and I really don't want to." A symptom of this is when one person drops conversational breadcrumbs, but the other person won't follow the trail. "I forgot to buy pears at the store today. I've been very distracted. Work was busy, and also I'm looking for realtors because I've decided to buy a house." Here, a conversational response would be "You're looking for a house? How exciting! What type of house are you looking for?" or "My aunt is a realtor. Would you be interested in working with her? She's a fantastic businesswoman." A disconnected response would be, "Pears are awesome" or "I'm so glad I bought my house four years ago and am done with it. It was a horrible process." Thus, in order to continue the conversation, the second person has to abandon their topic and switch to the first person's topic.
And I'm also realizing how exhausting it is to deal with monopolizers. With type 1, you never get to talk. Less effort, but unless you're intensely interested in every single thing that person has to say, you're going to be bored silly the entire time. With type 2, you talk a lot, but it's only questions. Type 2 is energy-sapping. Type 3 is emotionally exhausting because you never get to say what you want to say.
I tried to make Excel graphs illustrating these but it didn't work.
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