North Star Writers Group

I knew it was going to be a bad day in the office when, during my morning trip to the ladies’ room, my company ID fell into the toilet. I tried not to overanalyze what that might predict for the rest of my day, or the symbolism it might represent about my career.

Instead, I remembered to be thankful that while it may be soaked in a bodily fluid, to my knowledge, it would still unlock the front door after hours.

Perhaps I feel this way because my talents could be better used in a different department, or with a different job description. I promptly went back to my desk to create these unique jobs for myself – jobs I, and probably you, would be very good at.

For example, I believe every sizable company should have a Director of Hurdle Removal. This could be my sole job, and it could keep me busy full-time to be sure. I would treat it just like I were the Fairy Godmother in Cinderella. I would hear someone’s wish to have a hurdle removed, and I would wave my wand and bam! It would be done.

For example, if Joe in IT and Liz in communications wanted to send employees a postcard about a cool program, but Alan in human resources forbade it, it would be my job to fight Alan to the death until I changed his mind. Or, go above his head. Or, whatever I had to do to remove the hurdle.

Being Director of Hurdle Removal would be fun for a short time, but I’ve never been the type to desire a job that required too much confrontation. If I wanted that, I’d have become a lawyer.

Instead, I’d like to be the Director of Meeting Management. It would be my job, at an employee’s request, to look at all the meetings he or she sits in and decide which ones are necessary, which could be combined with others, and in general, which ones could be blown off with few or no repercussions.

As Director of Meeting Management, I would also cancel all meetings without agendas, all brainstorms with people who are too married to their own project and all meetings that can’t be finished in fewer than 60 minutes.

Imagine the productivity that would result and the enlightenment of the chronic meeting-havers when they actually start accomplishing things. The joy, beauty and harmony that would come from entire days of being able to sit at one’s desk and talk to coworkers only when a direct answer or decision is needed.

When my job as DMM was done, I would take on the role I call Director of Initiative Safety. I designed this role after one of the most rewarding jobs I ever had – sixth-grade crossing guard on the corners of Cleveland Avenue and Maine Street near my elementary school.

The job of crossing guard is extremely important and not that difficult. You wear an orange vest, carry a brightly colored stick and make sure vehicles and people don’t collide. You have to stay alert, but the stop signs and street lights are there to help.

As Director of Initiative Safety, it would be my job to make sure that no two projects within the company experience a “crash” - a point of impact in which one team realizes that, all along, the other team was doing nearly the same thing. Having meetings, testing, making decisions, questioning decisions, re-making decisions all in the pursuit of the same goal would be coordinated. In other words, spending hours of everyone’s time before checking in on whether other teams were doing something similar would be eliminated.

The biggest problem with a crash is that, once the crash happens, one team inevitably plays the role of the peaceful pedestrian who was only trying to get to school on time with his backpack full of homework intact. The other team is the taxi cab who missed the stop sign.

The taxi driver, or team leader, feels guilty because he knows he should have been more collaborative. His passengers, the other team members, are upset because their destination and timing has been derailed. The pedestrian feels stupid for not paying attention, and all his “homework” – his past efforts, essays and reports – are strewn about the street, blowing away in the wind, never to be seen again.

Not with me, the Safety Guard of all initiatives big and small. I could dissolve entire taxis and stop pedestrians before they even get out of their front doors. I could save their corporate lives.

Alas, I reread my job description, and sadly, none of these job duties fall to me. So it’s back to my cubicle, my computer, my coffee, my concerns for the day. I sigh, but still, I’m bringing a magic wand in to the office tomorrow. Just in case.

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This is Column # CD047. Request permission to publish here.