It seemed like the mothers and fathers featured in the article kept serious tallies of their chores and work and daily functions. While this certainly prevented bitterness from spouses (usually the wives) who felt they were doing the lion's share of the work, it seems like it could inspire an entirely new kind of discontent based on a life bereft of flexibility. Ironic, especially since the couples all negotiated their job situations in order to make their home time absolutely equal. Of course, it is a noble thing these couples are doing, and every marriage and childhood situation is one based on a series of discussions and compromises.

It doesn't help that American society makes it more difficult for men to stay at home, as Michelle Goodman points out in ABC News. Paternity leave, if granted at all, is typically one week. For a woman who had a C-section, "which meant she needed help doing everything from lifting the baby to her breast, to finding the time to brush her own teeth," a week is paltry indeed.

Belkin has a separate article about men who stay at home in today's Times, but this piece focuses on men who opt out while their wives continue working. According to Belkin, men often have a tougher time going back to work, as employers are even less sympathetic to holes in their resumes. What most women, and men, don't realize, says Belkin, is that you are most powerful when you are willing to leave. "But women were simply leaving rather than using their leverage to ask for the moon — a sharply decreased workload or increased salary or guarantee of a job upon return — on the chance they might get it. In recent years, women have negotiated more, a trend not lost on men." That seems to be the takeaway from all of these pieces: while your workplace might seem unfriendly to your procreation needs, there is often room for haggling, if you're just willing to put it out there.

When Mom And Dad Share It All [NYT]
Why Dad’s Résumé Lists ‘Car Pool’ [NYT]
Paternity Leave: When A Week Isn't Enough [ABC News]

I spoke with an acquaintance who just graduated from college last May, and is about eight months into her first-ever job. I asked her, now that the stress of the first six months and figuring out the lay of the land, how she likes her work. "I answer the phone and file things," she said. "You don't need a college degree to do what I do. It's stupid that I am in this job." This answer told me nothing about how she enjoyed the nature of her work; whether the field she had chosen to go into was interesting to her, whether she was learning things from those above her, being exposed to a way of thinking or a process she had not encountered before. I knew nothing of how she liked her work, only that she didn't enjoy the process of working. "Maybe I'll become a party-planner," she then said, "That seems fun."

Pink says this is why this generation needs rules, and Belkin herself points out that it's not just the young in need of a little reality slap, but their parents, noting how she received a letter from a reader who "described her daughter, who will be graduating from college next month, as paralyzed by the fear that whatever job she takes would not be her passion and would therefore be wrong. "How can I help her find her life's calling?" the mother wondered." I will save Lisa Belkin the time of answering this one: Dear Mama and Daughter, Chillax.

There is no perfect job. As my dad has always told me, as long as your work is not immoral, unethical, or illegal — well, then it's good work. Sure, hopefully you find it interesting, but there is no make-believe land where you are rewarded daily with gold stars, and championed for your "passion" for merely showing up and breathing air. But if you work hard and at the end of the day can be proud of what you did — well then, you done good.

Prepping Children for the 9 to 5 [New York Times]

Volunteering at a homeless shelter for the "power" it conferred upon her? That was pretty much Angela in a nutshell. There were other things: Bragging that she regularly manipulated emails (forwarding emails from other people after she had changed the content of the messages); lying to management about my making personal phone calls during work hours; berating a Subway employee for giving her less than "perfect" tomatoes. In an already-unfulfilling job, Angela was the proverbial straw: I could put up with the other bullshit, but the idea of seeing her weasel face for one more day made me want to die, so I quit even though I didn't have another gig lined up.

Apparently I'm not the only one who suffered from workplace "collenemies" as Time blogger Lisa Takeuchi Cullen termed them. Cullen relates the story of a colleague who ratted her out about freelance work, and quotes a study that says coworker strife can lead to "a wide variety of workplace problems, ranging from lost productivity and higher turnover to increased and open hostility." And in yesterday's New York Times "Thursday Styles" section, Lisa Belkin discussed strategies for dealing with malignant coworkers, as outlined in a book called Toxic People: Decontaminate Difficult People at Work Without Using Weapons Or Duct Tape . Author Marsha Petrie Sue divides workplace evildoers into three categories: "Steamroller (a bully who is not necessarily right but is determined), the Whine and Cheeser (who finds the dark side to everything, as in: "Cheez, I got a raise. I'll have to pay more taxes"), and the Backstabber (enough said)." Belkin describes a woman whose nasty female coworker dumps her lunch detritus into the first woman's garbage can just to piss her off; Sue suggests that the victim of the lunchtime sneak attacks should pick up the garbage "and carry it into her tormentor's cubicle when others are watching."

As for my revenge on Angela, I never got any, and it continues to bother me that I never got any sort of closure on the situation. In fact, I still fantasize about running into her at a bar, downing some liquid courage, and telling her where she can stick her goddamn slippers. Thank god for the virtual Jezebel office and my lovely coworkers, whom I would never, ever want to cornhole with indoor footwear.

It's Not the Job I Despise, It's You [New York Times]
Never Mind Office Romance. Fear The Collenemy [Time]