Invisible Work That Matters

Invisible Work That Matters is hard to track down. There are no metrics or obvious signs that you’re getting something wrong. They are almost so hard to spot that they seem intangible. Perhaps for me, having a more positive outlook would go a long way. Invisible work that matters doesn’t feel rewarding while you’re doing it, maybe that’s why I struggle to keep doing it consistently.

My last post ballooned into an epic three-day writing escapade. I’ve been meaning to avoid a deep dive into every topic in hopes of cutting down these Laidback Logs. Gushing about a networking event is something that’s forgivable. These things should go poorly for me; I’m autistic after all. The only thing you’d expect me to be is PJSalty at an event titled “SALT Mixer“. Instead, it was a euphoric high of acceptance and belonging. All drug and endorphin highs come to an end, though. Becoming a part of base reality might be worse than a comedown.

The last three days should have been logged more granularly. There have been an anime event, dinner & drinks, and three whole workdays between the SALT Mixer and now. Although my ambitious goal was to be more regular with these posts, I’m just happy to be working on something. I took Bryson’s advice and am starting to make a schedule for my creative projects. Let’s see if I can sustain the effort.
 

Sometimes I Know the Right Steps

Knowing what to do is only half the battle. I need to kickstart my lethargic brain and habits to take the right actions. The Laidback Log should be one of the “Non-Negotiables” that Tim Ferriss talks about. If I can’t see an immediate consequence for my lethargy, it’s hard for me to take action. As much as I like to blame things like my mental makeup, I know I’m really at fault. What I’m losing is invisible without the power of a quantum computer. I’m losing all the possibilities of what could be if I lived life to my maximum potential.

I’m trying to use my ADHD as a strength, but in order to do that I have to lay a structure around myself. 

Work Emergency

As a concierge, my job isn’t backbreakingly hard. It’s not intense labor, but it takes a lot of mental focus. Socializing, although enjoyable, drains me quickly. The job also requires proactive problem-solving, dealing with existing problems, working with vendors, knowing the building layout, and creating a welcoming environment by building rapport.

On their own, none of these tasks is very difficult, but there’s a lot of responsibility tied to diligent action, having a plan, and knowing the proper policies and procedures.
 
If I can manage to stay motivated and focused, the best part of this job is that I have time to work on creative pursuits. While I’m not taking large leaps forward, every step counts. Doing creative work at my small workstation forces me out of my comfort zone because I’m away from my powerful desktop computer. As a multi-monitor evangelist, this hits me particularly hard.

Competitive Gaming and Sports:Invisible Work That Matters?

We had a bit of a small emergency scare at work. A man had lost contact with his friend for several days. Because this was an unusual pattern of behavior, he was worried. He insisted that I needed to unlock his friend’s room to check on him. Of course, I wanted to help him, but I had a feeling that this was against policy and procedure. The man visibly grew more worried when I refused to unlock the room; I had to make a plan on the fly.

Crisis management is one of the invisible passive skills you pick up as a tour leader. Having that role also gave me the strength to push back and not immediately fold under pressure. Instead of hurrying to unlock the door, I made a plan of action. I instructed the worried friend to knock on the tenant’s door while I checked standard operating procedures and contacted my superior.

My suspicion was right. As building management, we are not allowed to invade someone’s home, even if it is because we are concerned. My manager informed me that we would have to call the police. After a conference call via speakerphone, the concerned friend agreed to go with our plan of action. Needing to report the issue to his superior, he hung up the phone. The man’s nervous body language was a precursor to a more panicked state. His thoughts and words were starting to pick up pace.

“I’ve Never Called the Police Before”

I talked to him in the calmest, most authoritative, and empathetic voice I could. It was the only way for me to prevent further panic. I walked him through the plan of action one more time as slowly as I could manage. I prepared the unit’s key in case the emergency services instructed us to open the door.

Minutes ticked by. With EMS contacted, it was a waiting game. Suspense and tension built as the man paced back and forth. We both snapped to attention when his phone rang. . . It was his friend. After three days of no response, he had called back. He had just been asleep. I breathed a sigh of relief and informed the chain of command.

With incomplete information, my first thought was not “he’s probably just asleep.” Instead, I was put into overdrive after hearing “hasn’t contacted dad, didn’t show up for work, hasn’t heard from.” My first read of the situation was a mental health crisis. When you don’t have wards or a recon legend, you have to go into things blind and prepare for the worst.

Debrief

My boss called me for a debrief after the situation. I was praised for my ability to stay calm in a crisis. My elite gaming experience had allowed me to keep my cool. There’s nothing like winding down after a long, stressful day of work with an even more stressful and chaotic session of eSports. In most work emergencies, there isn’t a lobby of people trying to kill me. The “Hustle Bros” and “Socially Adjusted” think games are a fast track to wasting your life. Why would anyone willingly subject themselves to mental anguish, stress, and torture in their free time?

Games have forged my muscle memory, teamwork, creative problem-solving, and reading situations. To get a Fight Club-worthy experience in the soft, easy, muted, politically correct society, we can compete in online arenas. For us athletes who chase that competitive environment and focus, it’s the closest we can get without a three-day leg recovery period. . . Or tearing your last remaining ACL. . .

I find that each stressful situation I get myself into online helps me deal with crisis situations when they happen at work, in my personal life, and in the next virtual battle.  

Decompress and Destress

Life for the past week has been a blur of typing, recalling past events, and managing the daily tasks of the concierge desk. As a struggling Zillennial, I’ve been taking every shift available. It’s the only way I’m able to survive and maintain my standard of life without going into crushing debt. Part of that is my spending habits, which I’m trying to get on top of, but additionally the job market and economy have me feeling the squeeze. Maybe I should have gotten a more financially rewarding degree?

When I was having a particularly rough go of it in Japan, there was nothing like an izakaya trip after a long, hard day of work. Izakaya were at every major station. In addition, food, drinks, and service were cheap. Finally, public transportation was reliable. As the stress built, I swear the gravitational pull of the izakaya got stronger. A quick message to my LINE group was all it would take to turn a solo adventure into a group outing. After drinks, we often ended the night with a spicy bowl of Ikke-Ramen. To paint it in a better light, I was experiencing Japanese culture. 

I Haven’t Seen You in a Bit

Instead of rushing home at rush hour to have my therapy appointment, I decided to stay around the area and grab a coffee. Nothing like having therapy in your car in the middle of the day. . . Strangers probably already knew I was crazy. I went to the highest-rated café in the Capitol Hill area. I contemplated life as I sipped on my latte. If I were as rich as this cheesecake, I probably wouldn’t need therapy.

My therapist and I chatted. At this point, I’ve built quite a good rapport with her. So much had happened since our last appointment, I didn’t really know what to talk about. Despite all my struggles and position in life, I felt so-so. Still, I realize that therapy is one of those things you do more as a preventive measure even when you’re feeling just fine.

Sleepless and Sober in Seattle

Drinking in Seattle is tricky because the public transportation system is still developing, I live with my parents in Tacoma, and I’m not wealthy enough to be chauffeured in an Uber everywhere. I could always drink a little closer to home, but do people my age even go out around the Tacoma/Federal Way area? If they do, I haven’t seen them; they must be on 6th Ave. Itching for a night out after work, I headed to a neighborhood bar. It caught my eye on the way to the café.

While I’m a big fan of data and often use Google reviews to find places, there’s something magical about organic discovery.  Learning more about the Seattle area was on my to-do list. It feels like an adventure without the aid of tech and data. Most people who leave Google reviews are NPCs who don’t know much about what they’re reviewing. Still, the bar had a nice homey neighborhood feel. The small strip of bars and restaurants was so homey that I felt like I was invited onto someone’s patio. 

Here Comes the Sun

I eventually settled on Sol Liquor Lounge. Although I always feel out of place, that feeling was turned up a notch when I was greeted by the sight of various people in Hawaiian t-shirts. . . I think I missed the memo. The packed house was reassuring; I must have been in the right bar. If people were willing to wait in line for a mixed drink, it had to be good.

I made small talk with some of the other people in line before reaching for a drink menu. One thing to appreciate about America is that it’s easier to find a proper cocktail bar. It’s easier to find a bar that does great mixed drinks here than in Japan, where many places serve simpler drinks like rum and Coke, sours, or the highly consumed haibōru (highball).

I ordered my drink and sat down at the freshly cleared corner of the bar. Thank god the end of the bar was unoccupied.  While waiting for my mixed drink, a woman and her husband took the two empty seats next to me. He went to get her a drink while she sat down. I hated introducing myself to people, so instead I decided to compliment her husband’s actions.

“Wow, what a gentleman. They don’t make ’em like that anymore, huh?” She chuckled before responding.

“These two seats weren’t taken, right?” She looked worried that an antisocial loner like me would have friends  joining. . . Yeah right

“Nah, I’m all alone today,” I said, looking over to the bartender who was rapidly mixing drinks. That was true most days. The crowd and line kept getting longer. “Do you guys normally go out drinking on Tuesday nights?” I asked her. . . While also internally asking myself the same thing.

“No, it’s Andrew’s birthday. My nephew runs this bar so I just wanted to say hi.” She looked over at the man pouring the drinks in a doting fashion. Her eyes reflected the longevity of their relationship. It was almost like those of a mother looking at a child. They were the eyes that had witnessed someone grow up in front of them.

“What about you?” she said, still looking at her nephew.

Avoiding Traffic is Anti-Social Behavior

“I just wanted to avoid Seattle traffic.” I spurted honestly. “I’d rather pass time pleasantly with a drink in hand.” As if on cue, Andrew came over with my mixed drink. Living in Asia for so long, I instinctively pulled out my phone to snap a photo of the expertly prepared drink.

“Yeah, I could see how that would be better than sitting in traffic.” Her husband came back so he could confirm her order before returning to his spot in line. “Are you from around here?” she asked, probably curious about the drive ahead of me.

“I’m from the ghetto down there in Tacoma.” I gave a self-deprecating laugh. Although I had a massive space in my heart for Tacoma, it definitely wasn’t the safest location with the best reputation. “Did you grow up around there?” she asked, a small tinge of concern in her voice. 

Good Catholic Schoolboy

“Yeah, I went to this small Catholic school called Bellarmine.” A hint of shame colored my tone. For as many kind people who graduated from the school on the hill, there were an equal number of insufferable, spoiled, wealthy assholes who walked through those halls. People like Bryce Planchich. Barfs internally*

“I know about it,” she said with a little pep in her voice. “I went to Kennedy myself. We always felt that, of the Catholic schools in the area, Kennedy had the most diversity.” I couldn’t help but smile thinking of my time attending Kennedy’s visit day.

“Looking back, I wish I could have gone there. I had so much more fun at their prospective student orientation day.” Memories of talking about my interests, dancing, singing, and having the opportunity to reinvent myself flooded through my mind. There, I didn’t know anyone and the majority of the students seemed down to earth and approachable. It was better than the majority of stuck-up kids who treated you like wet garbage for not wearing some stupid $300 jeans. “I work at a building downtown, and I thought that I should explore for a bit,” I spouted, leaving the trail of wounds buried deep in my psyche.

“What is it that you do?” she asked, following the flow of the conversation. She seemed to relax a bit knowing that the femboy in front of her was raised a good Catholic school child. I knew the conversation would land on career eventually; I was hoping to avoid that. I held a little bit of shame towards my career. . . Or lack of career. As many of you know I bounced around from one low-level job to the next, mostly in a foreign country. One of the main reasons for coming back to America was in hopes that I could climb or grow into a role I knew I was more capable of.

Maybe I Only Think I’m Capable of More (It Could Just be Hubris)

“I’ve been living in Japan for the past eight years, so I’m just a concierge at a building.” I half expected for her to turn her nose up at me and treat me less for telling her my lowly position. Some of the people at my yearly company party definitely did. The two owners themselves radiated warmth and appreciation for each of us worker ants, but it wasn’t a sentiment everyone shared. That night I enjoyed time with my friend Andrew (not the bartender, but my friend) and the maintenance team. “I needed something stable, full-time with insurance, and it’s cool because I can work on sharpening my other skills and abilities.”

“That job is not as easy as it sounds.” Her husband sat down next to us, smiling. The woman looked over and smiled, then she whispered something about their order before turning back to me.

“I’m Joanne, and that’s Bob.” They both reached their hands out for a handshake. I think Bob was expecting me to have a more powerful handshake, but my big hand gave just a dainty little squeeze. The pressure that Bob applied could have bent a lead pipe. 

As an autistic person, one useful tool I’ve abused is mirroring. If people ask you about something, they probably want to share something about themselves in that sphere.

“What do you two do for work?” I asked as if reading off a script in my mind.

“Well, I’m retired,” Bob said as he let out a hearty laugh. Joanne smiled but rolled her eyes a little. It was probably a joke/phrase that she’s heard a thousand times.

“I work at Microsoft, in IT, but more on the management side. . . I think project manager is my official title.” She tried to stay humble but I was taken aback. Project manager is such a high position in a major Fortune 500 company. The top of the barrel and the bottom of the barrel ended up in the same bar, I thought.

I Never Thought I’d Walk Into a Bar and Talk About This . . .

What followed the fun introduction was a night delving into my identity as a femboy, my experiences overseas, my feelings on tech and the state of things.

Joanne shared about her work with Microsoft, AI, quantum computing, and her education. She also talked about Andrew, her nephew, who was like a son to her. She also gave back to the community in small ways.

“I like to mentor college kids when I can.”

Bob shared his stories working at Boeing and some insights about different airlines. We all marveled at the financial strategies of airlines because there was so much data to manage.

How would you ensure that a depreciating asset was profitable over x amount of years, knowing that there are costs to maintain an aircraft, regulations, every airline has its own interior and seating arrangements, infotainment, etc.? Nearly every major airline company will recycle their passenger planes as freight as they age.

We even touched on some of Bob and Joanne’s experience working with the Japanese people. . . I loved All Nippon Airways. Such a good airline. Maybe I’ll make enough money to fly with them again. 

Flames and Sparks and Pizza 

I ordered another drink. Not only was it delicious and presented well, but it was also served with a flaming sugar cube. The final garnish was sprinkled on, bringing sparks to the end of the mixing show. I wish I had taken a video because that was epic. The couple pulled out a  boxed pizza from next door.
 
“We can’t eat this in here; would you like to join us for a slice outside?” Like a broke college kid, I wasn’t going to turn it down. Plus, even more than the pizza I had loved the conversation we were having.
 
“Of course.”

The Original!!

As we were talking, I noticed a familiar neon sign above the café to the right of the bar.

“Oh, Top Pot, that’s cool.” The rustic brick building had a look that didn’t age. Oops some of my inside words became outside words.

“That’s the original one too,” Joanne said with a sparkle of pride in her voice.

“The funny thing about the sign is that they bought it off an old Chinese restaurant called Top Spot, and the S fell off,” he said, also looking up at the sign. Bob began prepping the pizza box.

“Well, I love it when those kinds of innovations just happen because of necessity.” My whole life felt like an innovation due to necessity.

My last phrase and the story of Top Pot swirled around in my mind in the way that red wine is agitated to tease the smells out of a glass. Imagine betting your whole life on yourself opening a business where you have to buy a used sign and when the sign breaks, you can’t fix it due to costs. Then you become an internationally recognized doughnut brand sold in one of the biggest coffee retailers around the world. . .

I couldn’t bet on myself like that anymore. . . I lost that strong faith in myself a long time ago.
 
I was happy to find the Original Top Pot in the same way I found a lot of my favorite spots in Japan. Some of the spots I shared as a tour guide were ones I had to visit or looked up online.  But the special ones I valued the most were organically discovered alone or with my friends. I really needed to start treating Seattle like a wonderful place to discover.

Grassroots 

We went inside for more conversation and drinks. Sadly, the couple had to leave, but before they left Joanne asked me a question.
 
“What’s your number?” She sent me a text and left with Bob. Sadly, I was alone again. I’ve always gotten along with older people; the people my age didn’t seem too welcoming or inclusive despite Seattle’s online reputation as inclusive. . . Good luck going out when you’re not a part of a friend group. I dusted off my drink and made my way to my car.

A Terrible Student

I got to my car and realized that I had a Japanese class in twenty minutes, but it was going to take me an hour to get home. It would have been fitting to have my Japanese class in my Subaru. . . But my phone was sitting at 5% battery life. In college, I was a terrible student. . . The only thing I’ve learned since then is more ways to mess up a good thing.

The most important lesson I learned in the last 10 years was not to place the blame on external factors. When I was younger, I might have blamed the alcohol, the traffic, or any other factor for my tardiness. I know the only person at fault was the one looking at me in the rearview mirror.

I’m Not Drunk!!!

My Japanese tutor found it a little funny that I even bothered to show up to class. She also found it amusing that I didn’t purchase the textbook yet. . . I will after the fifteenth, when I get paid, I promise. We were covering something really challenging. Passive form is something that mystifies me even after living eight years in the country.

Because I was having a genuinely hard time understanding the lesson, my teacher was convinced I was drunk. But, to steal a line from Kurt Cobain:

“I Think I’m Dumb.”
The conjugation wasn’t really the problem, but the actual context of when I would use the form.
 
I’m going to study hard this upcoming week to show my teacher I’m not a lazy bum.

Downtown Seattle Shifts 

The next two days of my shift in downtown Seattle consisted of typing my days away documenting the past. The SALT Mixer post took me nearly a week to finish. It was important to fully digest what had happened. I also took the day to reach out to some of the connections I met there. Some responded, some didn’t; I guess that’s just the way making connections at these things is supposed to work. . . It’s a good thing not everyone’s autistic at these things, or you’d have a pretty busy calendar. Why would they say “let’s connect later” if they don’t mean it?

I think what they mean to say is: “I’ll look into your background, and if I see anything I can gain from you, then I’ll reach out to you.” Sigh* I told you I’m too cynical and negative for these things. At least the connections that did respond were very happy to meet later. 

APEX and Gaming Content

I’ve been apprehensive about making content for Apex Legends because I feel like I’m not skilled enough. But I don’t think skill is really the important thing for gaming content. Outside of professional players, it comes down to personality. . . Damn, I’m not too good at that either. I love making videos and teaching people things. I’m also trying to teach myself a few things so, perhaps, making more content could be healthy for my own development too? If I want to hit Masters I’m going to have to play more than I currently do to break past the plateau.

The Next Day Sleep In

While my shifts are usually from 0700 – 2100, I had picked up an extra shift. I kinda miss when I just worked two days a week. Can’t argue with the money, though. At least I didn’t have to wake up early . . . I hate getting up early.

One thing that I hate more than waking up early is my mediocre life. I fully intended to wake up early and get things done. Instead I ended up sleeping in until 11:00. I felt exhausted, so I couldn’t help it. Nothing like when I was a tour guide or working in a Japanese factory, though. At least I was getting hourly pay for my time, but I also felt the hit to my creative endeavors and health.

Step By Step

I jumped back on the creative horse by making a drawing, but exercise was another mustang I needed to tame. What was seemingly the theme of the year . . . Consistency? I’d appreciate it if gains came faster, but if they did, then maybe it wouldn’t be too impressive. I had to just put in the daily work. It had been weeks since I last ran. Oh boy, my lungs reminded me why regularity was important. I used the Nike Running App’s four-week plan and made it around a difficult loop. I didn’t quite make it to the end and I was far from the best shape of my life, but the important thing was the step forward.

A Bit of Local History

While running, I stumbled on this sign. I was really meaning to learn more about America, the PNW, Washington, Seattle, Tacoma, and my neighborhood. This is a good start. Start small spiderman, I should learn to be a friendly neighbor.

Laundry and Tidying Up

Because I had been working and socializing so much more than usual, my room was an absolute disaster. . . It still is, but now at least it’s a functional disaster with clean clothes. I had completely run out of work clothes. Thank god I never ran out of underwear or socks. On my last workday, instead of wearing work clothes, I was forced to dress in one of my alternative outfits.

I got 95% of my laundry done and sorted in the time it took me to run and shower. I think if I wanted to optimize my life I would have to think about things that I could “set and forget” and still get work done. For instance, a crockpot meal combined with meal planning could take the load off of cooking when it’s my turn to provide the food for the family.

Night Out

I went for a second night out in Seattle. My sister is always surprised when I go out alone. I didn’t understand until tonight. While I was able to make friends with strangers on previous outings and at events, tonight I found out what the Seattle Freeze really is. I think the only person who talked to me that night was the bartender. After a bummer of a night out, I missed Japan’s drinking scene. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Japan’s nightlife was world-class. . . Seattle not so much.

“You don’t know what you got till it’s gone.”

Although shy and afraid to make connections in their day-to-day lives, when Japanese people drink, everyone becomes friends. Compared with nomunication, the Seattleites were zombies. In Japanese bars, all you see is laughing, smiling, and joking. Perhaps it’s just due to the sheer gravitas of Tokyo or because many people are tourists with the right attitude. It’s not like I made the effort to butt into people’s conversations, but the vibes in Seattle felt closed off. I sipped on my beer disappointed by the small clusters of people having conversations . . . Only a couple of them looked fun.

I had more fun on the drive back that night than the bars. Thank you, manual car fitted with a turbo and decent horsepower. Unlike people, cars will treat you right if you follow their maintenance schedule.