Pick A Strategy And Stick To It

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Father’s Day last weekend had me thinking about my dad more than usual.  It’s bittersweet; fun memories mixed with sadness that he’s no longer with us.

Some people have dads that take them to sporting events. Some have dads who share a passion for the great outdoors, including fishing and camping.  Others have dads who teach the mechanics of fixing a car.

My dad taught me how to play cards.

He would bring us “gifts” of playing cards from his travels.  That was back in the day when airlines actually gave away decks of cards to help passengers bide their time. 

Dad taught me all kinds of games including Gin, Solitaire, and what became our favorite, Black Jack.  Or Twenty-One, as Dad called it.

Some may call this gambling. I prefer to think of it as strategic life lessons.

I would pull up the ottoman in front of his chair, grab a deck of cards and the lesson would begin, with Dad assuming the role of a Vegas dealer.  While I was learning, Dad would look at my cards and show me how to anticipate what the dealer might be holding in order to decide if I should “hit” or “stay”.

As I progressed in my abilities these games became quite competitive.  Dad had a pad next to his chair for score-keeping and it was such fun for me to actually beat the dealer.

We spent a lot of time playing cards, Dad and I. Lots of time.  We didn’t go outside much; he wasn’t that kind of dad.

What did I learn from the many hours spent playing cards with Dad?

  • I learned to do quick addition in my head.  Never a bad thing.
  • Poker face.  Never let them see you sweat.  As a child I didn’t fully understand the importance of this lesson.  As an adult it’s been an amazing gift for business negotiations.
  • Be consistent.  Dad would tell me you’re rarely going to beat the house, so whatever your strategy is, stay with it.   Since I’d yet to visit Vegas, I wasn’t sure what this meant or what the house was, but it sounded very important so I listened and tucked the knowledge away.

Now it’s all coming back to me and I understand what Dad meant.  If you keep jumping around and changing your strategy, you’re almost surely never going to win at Black Jack.

If you decide that you are always going to “hold” with sixteen, that’s a good strategy built on solid thinking.  While it may not win every time, if you are consistent with this strategy you will win some of the time.   Just be patient and stick with your plan.

The same can be said for our careers.  It’s easy to get impatient and want to change course if things don’t move fast enough or go the way we want them to.  Sometimes shifting direction works.  But the best bet is to determine a sound strategy and stick with it.

“Plan the work and work the plan” is what I say at the office.  Dad would say “Determine when you are going to ‘hit’ or when you are going to ‘stay’”.

Either way, just pick a strategy and stick to it.  It’s the best way to achieve your career goals.

 

Weekend Getaway

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Tahoe mountain pic

We always talk about “getting away for a weekend”.  Talk, talk, talk – we talk A LOT about it.  Yet it’s something Hubby and I seldom do.

There’s always a million little reasons why we can’t or shouldn’t or don’t take a weekend.  Work. Money. Family. Work.  I could just type “work” over and over again as the real reason behind our inability to get away.  It’s just too difficult to power down for even a few days.  And even more difficult to face the hundreds of emails when we return.

Fed up, I finally decided to do something other than talking about a long weekend.  Hubby had a birthday coming up and I planned a weekend out-of-town as an early present.

It was hard to lock in a date, agree to power down for the weekend and just relax.  Fear crept in as the date approached with both of us wondering how we would ever get our work done.

What if someone needs us? How long would it take us to bounce back? Would we actually turn-off and relax? COULD we actually do it? Or had we forgotten how to enjoy a few days of R&R?

I had the added stress of leaving mom, who had taken a nasty tumble and was not yet 100%.   Even the doctor reassured me she would be fine.

Well, let me tell you something. It was just like riding a bike. We remembered how to relax.  And it was awesome!

Aside from taking tons of photos and sharing on social media, that was it.  No work emails.

Going into this, we had a few goals.  Play golf.  Hike.  Sit on the side of a mountain and watch the world go by.

Check, check and check.

The best part?  We were able to clear out minds for a few days and let other thoughts enter. 

Sitting on a rock on the side of a mountain, we talked and listened to birds and just enjoyed the breathtaking view.  With undivided attention we shared thoughts and ideas with each other in the calm of the day and both came away inspired, actually ready to get back to work.

Weekend getaways should be required for everyone, whether you’re working or looking for work.  They can bring out the best in a person; mainly a fresh perspective.

Look at me; I got this blog post out of it.

Biking, Hiking and BBQs Oh My! But What About the Job Search?

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Beach pic

June is finally here and you know what that means: summer vacation!

As Pink Floyd so famously sang, “No more pencils, no more books! No more teachers dirty looks!”

I remember that euphoric feeling as the last bell rang for the year or in college when I finished my last final exam.  It was awesome knowing I had at least two months of relaxation without school responsibilities.

Too bad that all ends when we start our careers and enter the “real world”.

No more summer vacations.  If we’re lucky, we can bookend the summer with long weekends at Memorial Day and Labor Day. Depending on how the calendar falls we may get a third long weekend at Fourth of July.

Hardly the freedom-fest summers of our youth.

It’s been ages since I was in school yet for some reason at this time of year I still find myself wanting to slow down from work and take a step back.   With the sun finally shining I guess I’m ready to come out of hibernation.

Or more appropriately, I’m ready to get up from my desk, longing for a respite from the busy go-go-go lifestyle that has taken over.

Yes, I want to run away from it all. Even if only for a little while.

My mind plays tricks on me, suddenly forgetting all the things on my to-do list.  Knowing that we have a couple of trips planned, Vacation Brain tries to push Work Brain out of the way weeks before it’s time to leave.

I play all sorts of games to remain focused on career, networking, finding my next opportunity and the like, yet it seems in vain. There are simply too many distractions.

The swimming pool is calling me to come outside.  Friends in the teaching profession have free time to play.  Family wants to come to visit. Tons of summer festivals and events.  Biking, hiking, and BBQ’s, oh my!

Even the news is conspiring against me, telling me summer is a terrible time to look for a new job, that hiring tends to decrease over the summer as managers take vacations and a slew of other reasons.  My mind says this sounds reasonable.

Vacation Brain says, “Go ahead and give in; don’t do any work for the next couple of months”.

Work Brain knows I’m responsible and forces me back to reality saying “You know better.”   Sometimes I really hate being responsible.

Work Brain is right. We should not give in to the temptation to relax our standards just because it’s summer and vacation is right around the corner.

Especially anyone who is looking for a new job.  Don’t lose your momentum!  Let others drop out of the job search race if they want; that gives you the edge.  Besides, you never know when there might be a new opportunity and you could be the first to see it.

Should you enjoy summer and plan a vacation? Of course! It’s always good to take a short break to rejuvenate.   Just make sure you have a plan for staying on top of your job search strategy rather than dropping out completely.

FOMO: Fear Of Missing Out

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Recently I’ve discovered that I’m suffering from a newly discovered ailment.  It’s quite hard to diagnose as the symptoms disguise themselves.

I knew something wasn’t quite right.  At first I wasn’t sure what it was; I thought I wasn’t getting enough sleep.  Then I decided I wasn’t exercising enough.  Nutrition could be a factor, I thought at one point.  Stress could be part of it; isn’t that always an underlying factor when you’re not feeling 100%?

My usually organized self was running amok.  Unable to think or remember, it seemed like chaos was close at hand.

It was during a quiet moment – a rarity these days – that I read something that rocked my world.

FOMO. Fear. Of. Missing. Out.

That’s it! 

This was – and is – and always has been – me.

In my attempt to experience everything life has to offer – YOLO, you know – I have inadvertently put a lot on my plate.  Almost too much.

Like most people, my life is really busy.  Family, career, volunteering and friends are the bulk of it.  Then I need to – want to – add in personal interests, such as exercise, writing, travel and hobbies.

I love participating in life.  It’s hard for me to say “no” when it comes to social engagements, helping someone or to an opportunity that might help my career despite the fact that it is a time commitment on my part.

“Would you help me with my resume?” Sure!  “Want to grab dinner?” Love to!  “We’d love to have you attend our meeting” Of course!  “Want to join our group?” Awesome!

Combine that with my drive to advance in my career and constantly seeking experiences that will position me for future success and my schedule is packed.

And it’s become too much.

Yet I’m fearful of giving anything up.  First, I enjoy everything that I’m doing.  Second, I’m afraid I’ll miss out on an opportunity by giving something up, even for a short time.

FOMO – fear of missing out.   Not to be confused with its close cousin, YOLO, who is more grounded.  FOMO becomes more like a disease and once it grabs hold, it’s hard to wrestle free from its grip.

FOMO tells us we will miss the perfect opportunity if we don’t participate in everything.  FOMO lies to us, saying “no other opportunities will come our way” unless we act now. Only FOMO knows the truth; that there will always be opportunities.  FOMO can only survive if we buy into its sales pitch that we need it or we will be the ones in jeopardy.

I’d love to blame someone for my addiction to FOMO.  Perhaps mom, who encouraged me as a child to participate in multiple activities to find out which were best suited for me.  I remember one year that was so packed with after school activities that I had something different each night – everything from jazz dancing to scouting to baton twirling.  And that didn’t include the violin lessons and other school-related activities.

While it was fun and mom only had the best intentions, the problem is that I never learned FOMO boundaries.  I needed to understand that I could be in control of my own destiny, selecting the opportunities rather than succumbing to FOMO.

It’s hard to shake FOMO.  Even as I type this, my mind is reeling with possibilities for the upcoming weekend.  One of our favorite bands is playing at a local festival, we want to bike around the lake, we have yard work, both of us have regular work to do, I need to plan Hubby’s surprise birthday party – oops, guess it’s not a surprise anymore.  Plus there’s the usual household stuff and family obligations.

See what I just did?  I walked right back into FOMO’s arms.

Sigh…guess I’m going to have to back off of this slowly, like any addict.  Maybe we’ll cut out one thing this weekend.  Or at least I won’t accept any new invitations.

They say recognizing that you have a problem is the first step toward recovery.  Back off, FOMO.  I’ve got my eye on you.

At least I’m trying.

Resumes and Meatballs

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I love spaghetti and meatballs. Duh! I’m part Italian; I’d better love it. I think I lose my Italian heritage if I don’t.

My Italian grandmother spent hours making her recipes from scratch.  The aroma from her kitchen was enough to make your mouth water.

Grandma cooked by taste and feel, adding a bit of this and a dash of that until it was just right.  Mom painstakingly translated Grandma’s improvised cooking into recipes with actual amounts so she could recreate these dishes for dad.

Grandma cooked a lot – I mean every single day – and was always prepared. She always had some sauce or meatballs in the refrigerator, ready to go, just in case company stopped by.

As much as I yearn for Grandma’s spaghetti sauce with meatballs, I rarely make it because it is literally an all-day affair.  Quite honestly, who has the time?  And in summer months with outside temperatures reaching more than 100 degrees, I’m not interested in heating up the inside of the house too.

A recent cold wave, combined with Hubby’s sweet request for spaghetti and meatballs, and I found myself bravely attempting Grandma’s recipe. 

Besides, the kitchen was already a mess so I figured it was a great time.

Yes, I procrastinate and make excuses when it comes to this time-consuming recipe.  I love it when it’s done; it’s the process I dread.

Boy, was I out of practice!  The sausage almost burned on the stove while I was sautéing the onions and garlic.  My hand-rolled meatballs looked more like meat blobs.  Just as I was heating the olive oil, I realized one of the meat blobs had fallen on the floor.  Not wanting to waste one of my precious meat blobs, I yelled “Five-second rule!” washed it off and figured any germs would be cooked out by frying.

Just to be clear, I kept that meat blob out of the sauce and ate it for lunch. It was delicious, I might add.

After two hours the sauce was finally ready to simmer for the rest of the day.  The kitchen looked like a food-war had erupted and I smelled like I had bathed in olive oil.  But I felt victorious in my accomplishment and knew my hard work was well worth the effort.

While the sauce simmered I thought about all the other things I dread doing but am happy about once I’m finished.  Cleaning up the kitchen after making meatballs and sauce is high on the list.  So is going to the grocery store, exercising and even going to the dentist.

Career-wise I really hate revising my resume and all the associated job search tasks, such as updating social media profiles.  It’s another one of those things that I’m super happy about once it’s done, yet I procrastinate and make excuses to get started.

A quick poll of my friends tells me I’m not alone here.  Apparently very few of us enjoy this all-important task.

And now that I think about it, resumes and meatballs have a lot in common.  Both are key ingredients in a larger recipe and both take a lot of time to create.

It really shouldn’t be that hard to keep our resumes updated.  Some years ago I forced myself to start updating my resume annually in conjunction with the corporate review cycle.  It’s the perfect opportunity to add new accomplishments while they are top of mind.

Just because I do it doesn’t make it fun.  It still means I’ve got to invest time to think about how to update my information while keeping my resume under two pages.

Social media has added a level of complexity.  We have to update our information on LinkedIn and other sites too.

Yet just like Grandma always sauce and meatballs ready in case she needed them, we need to have our resumes up to date. You never know when an awesome job opportunity might come your way.

Meatballs and sauce in the fridge; current resume on file.  It’s a simple recipe, really.

 

No Regrets

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Sequined high tops
I’ve often heard it said that in life you never regret what you did; you regret those things you didn’t do.  Hmm.  Are you sure? Just one look at my old photo albums and I can see plenty of things I regret.
Photos from grad-school parties show a serious lack of fashion sense, which of course I regret.  I’ll cut myself some slack here since I was poor.  I will say that my sequined high-top tennis shoes (my creation) added some flair to my otherwise bland wardrobe of jeans and tops. 
And my hair! I may have actually been close to a mullet.  Let’s just hope I needed a haircut and hadn’t made it to the salon.
Looking back at my career, there was the time I turned down an opportunity to interview with a small start-up. Happy with my job despite the low pay, I didn’t even try to talk to the start-up even though one of my best friends worked there. In my mind, it couldn’t possibly be as interesting or fulfilling as my current job.  
I’ll never know how an interview may have turned out or if I would have liked working there.  One thing I do know: I regret not interviewing and potentially getting in on the ground floor, including stock options that later would prove to be so lucrative that I could be writing this from my winter home in Tahiti.
Over the years I’ve seen the error of my thinking. Of not trying something new.  Now I’m much more willing to at least investigate opportunities – both professional and personal – rather than simply declaring my life “fine as-is”.
Hubby and I have applied this line of thinking to our travel, taking advantage of opportunities that we never before dreamed of, not wanting to look back with regret at not going, doing, seeing.  Hard to regret riding a camel by the great pyramids at Giza.   I do regret screaming while the giant camel stood up with me in the saddle; that was embarrassing.  Who knew that a scream would echo around the pyramids?
When the lay-off hit, my mantra became “no regrets”.   This stroke of bad luck was really good luck in disguise, giving me the opportunity to do whatever I wanted.  If I wanted to try something, I was going to try it, as long as it was legal and didn’t break the bank.  Any fear I had was pushed aside by the bigger concern that I might rush into a new job too fast and find myself once again stuck in the rat race without at least considering a new venture.
So I pressed on, past any naysayers and concerns from well-meaning friends; past my own self-doubt.  I wrote my thoughts and dreams and strategies on a large grease board with “NO REGRETS” emblazoned at the top.  And guess what?  I’ve actually been able to check a few things off the list.
Living a “regret-less” life is not easy and I’m not going to pretend that I do it well.  Many times Hubby has to give me a pep-talk before I worry myself out of something without giving it a try.  I find that it takes more courage and determination to try something new vs. staying with something familiar.  Worries flood in as I venture out of my comfort zone to try new things. “What if” questions are always top of mind.
I’m not sure where some of my “regret-less” ventures are going to take me.  But one thing’s for sure: I’ll look back someday with a smile, knowing at least I tried.
 

Slow Down, Everyone!

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Cameron w bugle

I don’t know about you but it can be difficult for me to slow down enough to focus on the present. There’s so much going on in our lives that we’re always looking ahead, trying to plan our next move.

Never was this more obvious than my wedding day.  Anyone who has planned a wedding knows that all you do for months is plan ahead.

Just before the big day a friend gave me some advice.  She told me to stop before I walked down the aisle and pause for at least thirty seconds to take a good look at the guests and the church, since it would be the only time I would have a chance to make that memory.

Dad was tugging at my arm, yet I stopped and took time to let the image sink in.

Boy, am I glad I did!  I never had another opportunity to look at the church or the guests.  But that image is a memory I cherish.

For one brief moment, I stopped to focus on the present.

Wish I could have shared this wisdom recently as we watched Final Review at my alma mater, Texas A&M.

In case you don’t know, Final Review is when the Corps of Cadets passes in review one last time for the year, and the last time ever for the seniors.  It’s full of pageantry and pride and symbolism.

There are two reviews, really.  During the event, Corps leadership shifts to the seniors-in-waiting.  After the first review, the freshmen, sophomores and juniors return to the field in their new uniforms and leadership positions for the upcoming year to be reviewed by the outgoing seniors.

This year was special because our nephew, a junior, got to march in review wearing his senior boots for the first time.  A huge deal for these young men and women who have worked so hard for the honor. 

In the corps, every day is spent looking forward to getting those senior boots.  The boots are the outward symbol of a job well done; worn with pride at achieving something that literally took years of work and dedication.

I’ve seen Final Review before.  I was there, as a student.  Yet watching it now, with years of real-world experience under my belt makes me wish I could stop the review for just a few minutes to talk to the cadets.

Plead with them, actually.

What would I say if the commandant let me have the podium?

Slow down! Everyone – slow down.  I know you are anxious to take the next step in your young lives, but it will be here before you know it.  Whether you’re a freshman, sophomore, junior or senior, enjoy this – these moments – while you can.  When they are gone, they’re gone. 

Yes, you’ll have the memories.  Just make sure you are living in the moment right now, savoring this time.  I know you have to consider schoolwork, grades and a host of other things.  Seniors have to consider job options too.  All very important.

Just don’t forget to focus on the present. Enjoy every minute of what’s happening.  When you stand at Final Review, you want to have zero regrets.   The four years of college don’t last forever, although it may seem like it some days. 

Seniors, on Final Review day, when you are standing in formation on the quad, before you hear the drum major announce for the last time, “Step off on Hullabaloo”, before you hear the first notes of the Aggie War Hymn, before your outfit falls in behind the band, STOP. Take a good look all around you. Make a mental picture of this exact moment.

It’s one that you will treasure forever.  

I’m pretty sure the cadets would think I’m nuts. They’d wonder “Who’s that Old Aggie” and probably laugh at me, texting to their buddies that I am out of touch.

Yet I’m sure the outgoing seniors would agree with me.  We witnessed more than one such cadet wiping away tears as he realized that this was it; the end of the ride.

I’m sure every cadet enjoyed the experience.  I’m just guessing that they might wish for one more week or even just a day to revel in the experience.

Wherever you are in life, take time to stop and really experience it.  Take a mental picture that you’ll cherish forever. These things only happen once.

Invest In Your Career Future

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Bride Holding Bouquet

Hubby and I just celebrated our wedding anniversary.  It’s been an awesome fifteen years!  Or wait, is it twenty?  No, maybe seventeen.  Let’s see: 2014, minus 1996, equals eighteen.

Stop laughing – it’s hard to remember when you’re as happy as I am!  Gotta admit that was a good save.

Truth be told, it seems like it was just yesterday that I was walking down the aisle.

Hubby and I have a ritual each year on our anniversary: we watch the videos from the big day.

Thank goodness for our friend with the new camera who took the video; it’s one of our most prized possessions. Especially since the whole event is a blur to us; it’s the only way we actually get to see what happened.

That said, I do remember a lot about my wedding day.  Being insanely happy, for one thing.  My niece was adorable at the age of five, always at my side.  My then three-year-old nephew made a mad dash down the aisle after us as we exited the church – awesome.

I remember my friend who helped me get ready.  Later that night I discovered she’d been mischievous too and had dumped a couple pounds of rice in my suitcase.  Nice.  I still owe her for that one.

There were touching moments as well.  I remember Dad handing me a card from his mother – my Italian grandmother – who passed away some years earlier.  On the envelope was her handwriting that said, “For Tami on Her Wedding Day”.  Inside was a card she had picked out, with a fifty-dollar bill.

I bawled.

Dad explained that he had wanted to take that money and invest it; mom said no, leave it alone.  I thanked him and put it away, awed that grandma had planned enough to leave this for me.

Eighteen years later and guess what?  I still have that card, with the same fifty dollar bill.

Sentimental, yes.  But not the wisest move on my part.

If I had taken that fifty dollar bill and invested it, I would probably have around two-hundred dollars now, more than doubling my money.

Honestly, over the years I thought about this many times.  But fifty dollars?  It seemed insignificant, an amount too small to bother with.  I had more important things to worry about and I just forgot, or procrastinated, or both.

I was wrong.  It was not too small.  Investing that seemingly small amount would have been an investment in my future. 

Same is true with our careers.  We think that “little things” aren’t going to make an impact on our jobs.

Why take a class that doesn’t directly impact our current work?  Why spend time and money to attend industry or alumni events when we are so busy?  Why spend time staying in touch with all of those business contacts we’ve made throughout the years, especially if we don’t have business with them today?

Because investing today – even in seemingly insignificant ways – can payoff big-time later on.

Staying in touch with business colleagues is simple networking.  Industry and alumni organizations allow us to actually expand our network while potentially learning something new. Taking a class is never a bad thing; if it’s business-related, it’s a resume builder and could help land our next job.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the day to day things that we forget to take time to plan for the future.  Or maybe we just procrastinate, because that’s easier to do than thinking and strategizing and doing.

The time to invest in your career future is now.  Every little step, no matter how insignificant it may seem, is a positive step.

Even I’m jumping on this bandwagon, taking a class that may help me down the road.  I know it won’t hurt, that’s for sure.

It’s nice that I still have the fifty dollar bill grandma left for me.  Yet I’m sure she would have wanted me to move forward and do something with that money rather than save it in a drawer.

Let’s invest in our future now, while we can, rather than look back and wish we’d done it sooner.   Our future selves will be so happy.

Do What Scares You After A Job Loss

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Misty

Who doesn’t love a puppy with their funny little run, wagging tails and slobbery kisses?  They are so cute, aren’t they?

A long time ago, I was one of the few people on the planet who did not like puppies.

Actually I was terrified of dogs. Any size, any kind.  It didn’t matter if they were on a leash, in a crate or behind a fence, or if they were the kindest, gentlest dog around, I was frightened beyond belief.

I wasn’t born afraid of dogs. My irrational fear of man’s best friend began when I was five.  The event that triggered this was apparently so horrific to me that my mind has blocked it from memory.

Mom tells me that our next door neighbor was a kind man with five extra-large dogs; giant poodles to be exact that were all taller than me.   Knowing that I was tiny for my age, he would keep them behind the fence when I was playing outside.

We were walking home from school one day and I ran ahead of mom; he didn’t see me in the yard and let the dogs out.  As the story goes, all five decided to rush me, knocking me to the ground and I couldn’t get up.

At that moment, I became deathly afraid of dogs.

The incident happened in Ohio and I was upset to learn that there were dogs in Texas when we moved here. Usually I walked home from elementary school. If I saw even the smallest dog or heard so much as a yip up ahead, I would alter my route, sometimes going blocks out of my way.

Once we visited cousins who had a very gentle Labrador.  In my terror-filled mind, it may as well have been a house-broken T-Rex. I remember climbing up on the shoulder of the sofa against the wall to get behind my parents who could “shield” me from the beast, lest he tried to give me a kiss.

Yep, that’s what trauma does to a person.

When I was ten mom and dad realized I was not outgrowing the trauma.  One day mom picked me and Sis up from school saying that she had ordered us a very special Christmas gift that we would have to share.  We were so excited about this gift, we ran into the house to find dad sitting in his chair reading the paper.  He had the gift!

He lowered the paper to reveal, of all things, a puppy. Augh! A baby T-Rex!

Sis jumped up and down; I took a giant step backward.  How dare mom and dad bring a beast into the house?

I was scared to death to get close to it.  Physically shaking. Afraid to touch it, especially the paws for some strange reason.

Mom pushed me forward and said, “Just try, please, just try”, as Dad put the beast on the carpet.

The beast couldn’t have weighed more than eight pounds and was so small that we could easily pick her up.  She came over and licked my feet, and I touched her head; her ears were so soft.  I don’t remember much after that except that suddenly we had a dog – she was MY dog – and I was calling all of my friends to come over to see her.

Mom and dad realized the importance of getting back in the game after a traumatic loss; getting back on the bike after falling off; or whatever metaphor you want to use here.

Same is true after a job loss. 

Losing your job is traumatic, in a way.  We lose not only our work and income, but our sense of identity, our daily purpose and social interaction.  Depending on the situation surrounding the job loss, there can be emotional trauma that makes us feel inadequate or insecure in our abilities – and that can make us fearful that we might fail at another job or even the interview to get the job.

The key is jumping back on the bike, grass in our hair, with both knees skinned and bleeding, to try again.  More than likely we will not fail.  The scariest part is trying.

Update your resume. Put your best foot forward.  Go on those interviews – the more you interview, the better you’ll become.

Do what scares you.  You’ll be amazed at what you can accomplish.

When It Comes To Resumes, Content Is Critical

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Christmas at our house was a big deal when we were growing up.  Who am I kidding?  It’s still a big deal to me and Hubby knows it.  He has a hard time trying to live up to the expectations established by my family, particularly my grandmother.

Grandma always gave good gifts. I mean REALLY good.  We thought she was super rich. Only much later did I realize that she carefully planned her money and preferred to give it to the grandchildren instead of spending it on herself.

What Grandma understood best was presentation; the drama leading up to the gift.  She knew that we knew the gift would be good and she wanted us to work for it.  We had been taught to be so polite that if we opened her gift and were disappointed, we still smiled and thanked her profusely.  That’s when the fun began for Grandma.

Like the time I opened a huge box with a beautiful large bow, only to find a pair of fuzzy socks from the dollar store.  I smiled and thanked her, wondering if she’d lost all her money.  She coaxed me to try them on; I thought she was nuts.  But I did as she asked.  To my surprise, I found a diamond ring sewn inside the toe of the sock.

Score one for Grandma!  She knew the content of the gift was more important than the fancy wrapping and let me discover a true diamond in the rough.

Resumes are a lot like gifts.  They can surprise a hiring manager by presenting a good picture of the candidate or they can disappoint by looking good yet lacking substance.

Throughout my career I’ve interviewed a lot of candidates, as well as helped students and others with their job searches – I have seen my share of resumes.   Resumes on different kinds of paper, with all sorts of fonts and creative interpretations designed to make them stand out in the crowd.  One memorable resume was a on a DVD – talk about making me work for the information.

I imagine most hiring managers appreciate efforts by candidates to be unique.  Believe me when I say that I’m right there with you in wanting to separate myself from the pack during the recruitment process.

The truth is it’s the content of the resume that’s important.  Just like a Christmas gift, the fanciest wrapping doesn’t always yield the best present.

Make sure your resume really tells your story.  Sometimes this is the only piece of information a hiring manager sees in determining whether or not to interview a candidate.

I know; it’s hard to write about yourself but you have to try.  Ask a trusted friend or two to review your resume and edit it.  I’ve done this before and have received great feedback.  Sometimes we are too close to the subject to have an objective view.

There are also certified professional resume writers who do this for a living.  Yes, you’ll have to spend some money, although it’s worth the price if it means finding your next opportunity.

Worst thing you can do is limp along with a poor resume.  I’ve seen some doozies over the years.  Misspelled words, date errors, including way too much information or irrelevant information, information that indicates age or even includes skills that may be outdated – and those are not the worst errors.

The resumes that are most difficult to understand are the ones that fail to tell me succinctly who you are, what type of work you are looking for and why you are successful.  A good resume helps me understand why you could help solve my problems and intrigues me enough to schedule an interview.

Remember, the resume provides a snapshot of your personal brand to the hiring manager.  While a resume alone won’t get you a job, it may open the door for an interview where you can shine in person.

Your resume can still look good. Just make sure the content lives up to the wrapping.