The Workflow

Log into computer: user name, type, tab, password, type, hit enter.

Open email, click.

Prompt, sign into email account. User name and password remembered, just need to click or hit enter this time.

Prompt, Duo Security, need dual authentication to access email. Send Push? Yes, send push. Buzz, alert on phone, Duo Security request…Unlock phone, open notification, takes you to the app, tap approve. Access granted.

Emails, 20,262 unread emails. Where to start? You don’t start, you just go.

Click.

Read.

Think of response.

Click reply (or reply all).

Type.

Click send.

Do it again.

Click.

Read.

Think of response.

Click reply.

Type.

Click send.

Do it again.

Click.

Read.

Think of response.

Click reply.

Type.

Click send.

Do it again.

For every one response, 3 new emails come in. You’ll never catch up. It’s impossible. Some will respond kindly to you…”Thanks for the prompt response,” or “Thanks for all that you do.” Others have slipped so far down your queue that you won’t ever get to them and still be able to triage your inbox. You’ll forget about those emails, scarcely able to navigate past the first page of them. Those who sent them will get frustrated that they haven’t heard back from you. They will think you’re incompetent and terrible at your job. They will email you again and again as the deluge worsens.

Change order request. Not enough money in the purchase order (PO). Need to increase. But it’s year-end so you can only increase to the bare minimum needed to cover the cost. What’s pending? Search for invoices. What’s been done and not invoiced? What’s been invoiced and not paid? What remains to be done and at what cost?

Dig up the details. Need $5,600 to close out the year on this one service. Email the accountant, let them know what’s needed. Accountant modifies the PO amount in the financial transaction software. Email sent automatically by the software…change order needs approval. Open the email, follow the link to access the transaction software.

Sign on needed. User name and password remembered. Click enter. Duo authentication required. Send push? Yes, push to phone. Unlock phone, tap authentication notice, takes you to the app, tap approve. Access granted.

Find the PO in the transaction software. Review the change order. Approve the change order. Money added

Email. Meeting reminder. Open calendar. Sign on needed. User name and password remembered. Click enter. Duo authentication required. Send push? Yes, push to phone. Unlock phone, tap authentication notice, takes you to the app, tap approve. Access granted.

Calendar opens…there’s your schedule. Zoom meeting in 5-minutes. Click on the event. Click on the Zoom link.

Pop-up window….Zoom needs to update. Do you wish to update now?

Hmm. 4-minutes until meeting start. Yes, go ahead and update. You’re taking a rebellious risk by updating so close to the meeting time. You might be late. But your soul is crushed and you need to feel something. You’re a dare devil! You leap without looking!

Update starts…the progress bar slowly fills with color. 2-minutes to meeting start. Update finishes…Zoom needs to restart.

It restarts. You need to sign-in, which requires you to authenticate your single sign-on…again.

1 minute until meeting start.

User name and password remembered. Click enter. Duo authentication required. Send push? Yes, push to phone. Unlock phone, tap authentication notice, takes you to the app, tap approve. Access granted.

Back to your calendar, click the event, click the Zoom link.

The meeting time has come and you still aren’t in the meeting yet.

Zoom asks if you want to join the meeting? Yes, join the meeting. Zoom asks if you want to use the computer audio? Yes, use the computer audio.

You enter a grid of heads…2-minutes late. It’s just your name in the grid inside a black box. Click ‘Start Video’. Your face appears on screen. You wave, not wanting to interrupt by saying something.

Meeting is in progress. Click the mute button to mute your mic until you have something to say.

Try to listen. Try to participate. Try to be present in the virtual reality.

Somebody wants to do something. They don’t know how to do it. They want you to tell them how to do it. But they haven’t really explained what they’re trying to do. You let them know you’re looking for details so you know what type of direction to give.

You talk it out. You agree to work with them on a plan. They’ll start putting a draft together. We’ll schedule another meeting at a later time to review progress.

The meeting ends. You’ve got back to backs until lunch. Jump to the next one. More talking heads.

Someone texts your phone. Unlock the phone. Tap the text notification. Read the text. A member of your team has a question. You have the answer. Text the answer.

Still trying to listen to the Zoom meeting.

Another text. My answer prompted another question. I have the answer to this one too. Reply back.

Ding. Google Chat box on the computer. Someone is chatting you. Listen to the meeting, read the chat.

Buzz. An email comes in. A meeting request. Someone else has something they want to do. It’s urgent. At least to them it’s urgent. They want to meet on Friday.

Damnit.

Friday used to be my catchup day. Now it’s just another day full of meetings and I don’t make much of a dent in the backlog.

I check the calendar. Am I free?

Listen to the meeting. I haven’t heard my name. Go back to my calendar. The meeting time requested is already booked. I don’t have an opening.

In the meeting, I’m asked if I have anything I’d like to add. Shoot, which meeting was this one about again? The floating heads are looking at me…the virtual box of me.

“I’m concerned about such-and-such,” I answer. Such and such is interchangeable. My job is to be concerned about things. There’s always something I’m concerned about. “But if we can find a way to address the matter, I’m fine with moving forward.”

“That’s a good point,” a fellow floating head says.

“What would you suggest?” Someone else asks.

“I would stagger the positioning so you’re not overcrowding the event,” I answer.

“Yeah, we can do that.”

Read the chat box. The Chatter is asking for something I don’t have access to. But I know who does.

There’s a pop-up on the zoom meeting screen. Someone is direct messaging me in the zoom meeting chat function. They have a question they didn’t want the rest of the group to see.

I answer the direct message.

I send the contact info of the person who can help the Chatter.

Chatter responds, “Thanks.”

I seem to have 6–7 conversations occurring simultaneously all day long. Question. Answer. Question. Answer. Question. Answer. My left eyelid starts to flutter, the strange tiny muscle spasming beyond my control. It’s bothersome. It worsens throughout the day.

Back to the calendar. My whole Friday morning is booked. I don’t really want to book something in the afternoon. Been working 12hrs a day, would like to get out a bit early on Friday.

I respond to the meeting request email that I can’t do Friday. How about Monday the following week?

The Zoom meeting is wrapping up. They want to have another meeting to finalize everything. Time is of the essence. This is really important! They wonder if this Friday afternoon is available for one more meeting. Everyone on the call agrees.

Their time is more important than my time. Another 60hr week. Another Friday afternoon, stuck in a virtual meeting. Another day further behind in the backlog.

“Job security”, they say, as if that eases the burden of drowning.

This is the workflow. Reading, typing, pressing buttons, transmitting my voice through microphones and speakers, moving electrons. All day. Everyday. This is the value I contribute.