Too Big to Fail gives a good view of how executives and managing directors live: on call 24 hours, breaking off family vacations to deal with company business, showing up hours late to meet your future son-in-law.
True, rushing back to the office requires getting in a limo with your personal driver or, in one case, a helicopter. True, the broken family vacation started at a 5-star exclusive island getaway, and they fly back on private jet. True, you host your guests in your unbelievably large mansion, and when you arrive, you can regale them with unique stories about how you just got out of an all day meeting with the Secretary of the Treasury and the head of the Fed.
So, forget having a family life if you want to make it big in the financial industry, though you will have any comfort money can buy. Most people would probably make that trade-off, but after reading this book, I realize I couldn't.
I developed even greater appreciation for the government workers heading the Treasury and the Fed. These guys worked just as hard or harder, but without the perqs or big bonuses. Of course, Paulson made hundreds of millions already, but why would he want the job? At one point, he vomited in the trash can next to his desk, due to exhaustion and stress, then immediately got on a call to save AIG. He and Geithner performed as incredibly tireless servants of the government; Geithner never worked on Wall Street, so he never made the huge bucks. Meanwhile, the public scrutinized every move of theirs, and when they made mistakes, as surely they did, their critics ripped into them. Again, I had to wonder about the benefits of the job, and who would want it?
Almost all of the execs and leaders impressed me with their stamina, quick minds (despite the pressure and the lack of sleep), and depth of knowledge.
Showing posts with label career. Show all posts
Showing posts with label career. Show all posts
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Monday, September 28, 2009
The four parts of your life
I don't remember where I heard this metaphor, but it made a lot of sense. It highlights the personal you have to make in order to be a star at work.
Think of your life as a 4-burner stove top. Because of limited gas throughput, if you burn one very hot, the others generate less heat.
Each burner represents a part of your life that you can put your time toward: family, friends, career, and health.
You can try to be balanced, but won't be a rising star in anything. Focusing on your career could mean forgoing spending time with your kids or possibly even having any. This is why many married workers with successful careers and kids don't have many friends.
Meanwhile, lots of young single people I see, with no family to worry about, work very hard, and play very hard as well with their friends. Their health also suffers a bit, but they're young.
These days, I'll admit my job is a little easy for me. You could say I'm coasting, or at best, just peddling lightly on a flat road. But I've been able to have meaningful hours with my wife and kids daily, started making my own yogurt, healthy granola, and sourdough bread, and spent a lot more time on favorite hobbies: swimming and reading literature. Family and health have gained at the cost of career.
Eventually, I'll have to turn up the heat again on my career -- move it, as it were, off the back burner -- but for now, I've been appreciating the trade-off.
Think of your life as a 4-burner stove top. Because of limited gas throughput, if you burn one very hot, the others generate less heat.
Each burner represents a part of your life that you can put your time toward: family, friends, career, and health.
You can try to be balanced, but won't be a rising star in anything. Focusing on your career could mean forgoing spending time with your kids or possibly even having any. This is why many married workers with successful careers and kids don't have many friends.
Meanwhile, lots of young single people I see, with no family to worry about, work very hard, and play very hard as well with their friends. Their health also suffers a bit, but they're young.
These days, I'll admit my job is a little easy for me. You could say I'm coasting, or at best, just peddling lightly on a flat road. But I've been able to have meaningful hours with my wife and kids daily, started making my own yogurt, healthy granola, and sourdough bread, and spent a lot more time on favorite hobbies: swimming and reading literature. Family and health have gained at the cost of career.
Eventually, I'll have to turn up the heat again on my career -- move it, as it were, off the back burner -- but for now, I've been appreciating the trade-off.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Simple test of how good your job is
It was posted a couple years ago, but I love this test of whether you have a good job. Take a quick look at the list.
Notice that having two friends puts you in the middle "probably a good job" category, regardless of what else is going on.
I recently experienced this rather directly. Due to all the layoffs and departmental changes, about 4 months ago, despite going into my 8th year at my company, I suddenly was not working with a single person I had ever worked with before. It jolted me a little, and I felt bummed out in an odd, vague way for a while.
I'm a slow-friender -- it takes me a while, and then I like to stay in contact for a long time. I have co-workers that I consider friends from several jobs back, in other cities. We don't talk that often, but we're still close enough that we could stay at each other's houses if we were in town.
Tomorrow, I plan to write about how to make more money. But often, it's the little things that we don't think of, that aren't on our list of job priorities, that actually determine our job happiness.
Notice that having two friends puts you in the middle "probably a good job" category, regardless of what else is going on.
I recently experienced this rather directly. Due to all the layoffs and departmental changes, about 4 months ago, despite going into my 8th year at my company, I suddenly was not working with a single person I had ever worked with before. It jolted me a little, and I felt bummed out in an odd, vague way for a while.
I'm a slow-friender -- it takes me a while, and then I like to stay in contact for a long time. I have co-workers that I consider friends from several jobs back, in other cities. We don't talk that often, but we're still close enough that we could stay at each other's houses if we were in town.
Tomorrow, I plan to write about how to make more money. But often, it's the little things that we don't think of, that aren't on our list of job priorities, that actually determine our job happiness.
Friday, January 16, 2009
What do you do on your days off?
I'm not talking about your vacation days. On the days when things are slow -- you're a bit ahead, or you're between projects -- how do you spend your free time?
My theory is that your work on project deliverables solidifies your base. That's when you hone your abilities to write good code, create solid self-running tests. You take what you know and get much better at it. This is not the time to be learning a lot of new things, otherwise you'll never hit your deadlines.
But when are you going to try that new language, or test drive the new unit test components? Shouldn't there be time to learn about how the business works, develop better relationships with your customers, and see what cool things your colleagues have been coding?
That's exactly what you should be doing during your slow times.
When you're under the gun, that's when you're fine-tuning your expertise. When deliverables are not breathing down your neck, that's when you expand your potential expertise. You're like a crab going through molting stages; that's how you grow.
This may seem obvious, and if so, good for you. I don't think the majority of coders operate that way, so you have a leg up on them. They don't pick up a new language unless someone assigns them something that requires it, probably some maintenance work. The only parts of the business they know are the ones that have been assigned to them. If things are slow, that's a good time to shop online.
Some amount of frivolity is necessary for your own sanity. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. I've certainly taken my share of depressurization time. But be aware when you're doing it, and also think about taking a real day off on those days when it's slow and you need the break.
These days, on slow days, I've been experimenting with Python. I've had a vague interest in Python for some time, and have a silly web scraping exercise I'd like to do. It would be easier and more comfortable to do it in Java -- and actually that wouldn't be a waste of time -- but if I don't take the opportunity to learn Python now, when will I?
My theory is that your work on project deliverables solidifies your base. That's when you hone your abilities to write good code, create solid self-running tests. You take what you know and get much better at it. This is not the time to be learning a lot of new things, otherwise you'll never hit your deadlines.
But when are you going to try that new language, or test drive the new unit test components? Shouldn't there be time to learn about how the business works, develop better relationships with your customers, and see what cool things your colleagues have been coding?
That's exactly what you should be doing during your slow times.
When you're under the gun, that's when you're fine-tuning your expertise. When deliverables are not breathing down your neck, that's when you expand your potential expertise. You're like a crab going through molting stages; that's how you grow.
This may seem obvious, and if so, good for you. I don't think the majority of coders operate that way, so you have a leg up on them. They don't pick up a new language unless someone assigns them something that requires it, probably some maintenance work. The only parts of the business they know are the ones that have been assigned to them. If things are slow, that's a good time to shop online.
Some amount of frivolity is necessary for your own sanity. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. I've certainly taken my share of depressurization time. But be aware when you're doing it, and also think about taking a real day off on those days when it's slow and you need the break.
These days, on slow days, I've been experimenting with Python. I've had a vague interest in Python for some time, and have a silly web scraping exercise I'd like to do. It would be easier and more comfortable to do it in Java -- and actually that wouldn't be a waste of time -- but if I don't take the opportunity to learn Python now, when will I?