Working Distractions

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Is it just me or is anyone else finding it hard to concentrate anymore, especially when it comes to work?  I am more easily distracted than I once was and it’s annoying.   What’s worse is that I seem to be busier than ever yet accomplishing the same, or even less.   I refuse to believe that this has anything to do with age; everyone knows I’m 29 and holding.

I’ve tried all sorts of techniques to help me stay focused: diverting my eyes from the computer, getting up from the desk for a walk or stretch, making a to-do list, scheduling work on my calendar with sound notifications, etc.  I’ve even asked Hubby to gently remind me to stay on course if he sees me sidetracked when I’m working at home.

So how are these tactics working?  Not very well.

  • Diversions –Used to be that I could simply close my eyes or look away from the computer screen for a minute and I would regain focus.  I still use this technique; it’s just that I become re-focused on my smart phone with such things as solitaire, checking other email accounts or looking at  Facebook  to read riveting news updates like “having bologna for lunch today”. This of course leads to numerous comments on my part as well as providing my own riveting update. Talk about a time-suck. Thirty minutes later and I need to be diverted from this diversion.

 

  • Stretching – Sitting is a necessary evil. Gotta do it at work, since my desk is too low to use my computer while standing.  Yet sitting makes me tired (go figure) so I try to get up and stretch or at least walk around periodically.  Didn’t seem like an issue until I decided to get my blood flowing with some in-office yoga. My “downward dog” seemed like a good idea at the time, until I looked up to find a colleague pushing my door open to ask a question.  Awkward.

 

  • Lists – “Make a list and stick with it”, everyone said.  “It’s so easy”.  Okay, I’ve got a list.  Actually, I keep making lists. They are everywhere – on my desk, in my purse, next to my bed, on the refrigerator, on post-it notes. You name it; I have it on a list.  And the list just keeps growing with all sorts of ideas, plans and work. Oh, wait – you mean at some point I’m actually supposed to follow these lists and check something off?  Silly me.

 

  • Calendars – I schedule my work as though it were a meeting. The calendar “pings” an alert to keep me on track.  It’s just that I’m so far off the track that I ignore the pings.  Hey, I think this may actually be a distraction instead.  All I’m doing is making lists.

 

  • Hubby – My dear, sweet Hubby. He took this assignment very seriously, standing over me, tapping his watch, telling me to focus on the task at hand.  Turns out it was Hubby who gained focus.  Sleeping on the couch does that to a person.  Poor Hubby.

 

Anyone have better suggestions?

The Art of Being Prepared

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I have always been one to plan ahead, especially when it comes to travel.  Must be my years of Girl Scout training, when we had to anticipate all possible outcomes for our camping adventures.  Being unprepared is not in my psyche; in fact I over-prepare.  No food on the plane? No problem; I’ve brought snacks. Boredom?  Again a non-issue since I carry at least one book and a couple magazines, as well as an iPad, to keep me entertained.  Thirsty?  A large bottle of water makes the trip too. While the airlines have been cutting back on the amenities, I seriously doubt I need to carry a shovel to dig my own latrine like I did sometimes in scouting.

A recent business trip had me reviewing my preparedness initiative as I lugged my handbag and tote to the gate.  What the heck do I have in there? I thought.  Looking into my purse, one would think I was never going to see civilization again. Stuffed to the top, it no longer resembled a handbag but more like an emergency supply kit that the Red Cross would envy.

Aside from the normal items including my wallet, lip gloss and boarding pass, here’s what I found:

–          Breath mints (okay, not so unusual)

–          Tissues (just in case and for a variety of uses)

–          Granola bar

–          Bag of almonds

–          Chocolate (always a must-have)

–          Hand lotion (you know how dry the air gets on a plane)

–          Hand sanitizer (I’m not going to trust others to be clean much less any surfaces. It is cold and flu season, you know.)

–          Bottle of water for hydration, despite the fact that I always order a beverage when the flight attendants come by with the cart

–          Large shawl  (in case it’s cold on the plane)

–          Neck scarf (also for too much AC)

–          Headphones in case there’s a movie or I need to avoid a chatty seatmate

–          Aspirin and throat lozenges

–          An herbal tea bag

–          Toothbrush/toothpaste

My tote bag is another story.  Suffice it to say I was prepared enough that my luggage could make a side-trip to another location and I would not be upset.  No wonder my arms were aching by the time I sat down on the plane.  And I didn’t have a laptop with me!

The good news is that I enjoyed a nice flight with my own snacks while others clamored for the pricey pre-wrapped sandwiches offered by the airline.  I was entertained with my reading materials while others pouted since the TV monitors were not working and therefore no in-flight movie.

What does this have to do with a layoff or a job search?  Not much I guess, except that I thought you should know about my preparedness plan.  Just in case any of you need to travel to a job interview.

All You Need is a Grease Board

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I’ll admit it- I’m a planner.  In both my personal life as well as my business life, I like to plan.  I may as well confess that I still keep a paper calendar too.  Before you start pinging me with notes asking me to join you in the all-electronic 21st century, let me explain that I use both an e-calendar as well as a paper calendar.  The e-calendar is glorious in that I’m notified of meetings and it’s easily accessible with a smart phone. Yet the paper version is more important to me. It’s like keeping a journal that includes both personal and work-related stuff.  This may seem like double work to many, yet for me it’s a link to all that’s happened in my life.  I save the paper calendars and have fun looking at them occasionally to see what happened oh-so-many years ago.

Sounds like all I do is plan, huh? Don’t get me wrong. There’s a part of me that loves being spontaneous and free, especially in my social life.  Hubby and I are THE WORST at planning for weekend fun, so spontaneity in this area is great.  It’s the other part of me – the business side – that wants to think things through in advance.   My comfort level increases if I’ve had time to strategize, look at different scenarios and truly understand the situation as well as possible outcomes.  Flying by the seat of my pants is not in my comfort zone when it comes to business decisions.

So you can imagine my distress when I was laid-off.  I found planning to be more difficult without a work setting.  Maybe it’s because meetings and deadlines just naturally happen at the office.  Not so much when you’re adjusting to life as a professional job-seeker.  Thank goodness I discovered my passion for writing.  As CEO of my blog, I imposed deadlines to keep me on schedule, which in turn helped me schedule job search activities.

Then I had the crazy idea to write a book.  Seemed simple enough, so I tried to incorporate that into my schedule. It turns out that writing was the easy part.  It was everything else that had me puzzled.  Questions plagued me: what are the steps to publishing, where do you get an editor, how will I fund this project, how does one distribute a book, much less promote it?  So I went back to my roots, planning with paper and pen, or in this case, a grease board.

Similar to writing plans on a paper calendar, writing things out on a board helped me sort through the questions as well as the things I already knew and basically make a plan.  A plan to publish a book.  This was terrifying to me, because I knew that once there was a written plan where I could see it, it was time to sink or swim.  If I didn’t follow through, my written plan would be a nasty reminder that I had failed.  And failure, to me, was not an option.

Even though my plan seemed ridiculous (what did I know about writing a book?), I started scribbling. My beautiful grease board, full of boxes and lines and words.  New career goals were also positioned on this board; hopes and dreams.  The board was placed in the garage in front of my car so every time I pulled in or backed out I had to look at it.  A big reminder not to fail.

And you know what? All that planning I learned early in my career paid off.  Book? Done!  Speaking engagements? Done! Board member? Done!  Even the ticky-tacky details are done.  And with all this planning came job opportunities.  The lesson here is that even those of us in The Land of Layoff need a plan.

I used to say, “Plan the work and work the plan”.  Guess I’m going to brush off that saying and use it again.

New Year’s Resolutions: Fantasy vs. Reality

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Happy New Year!  Here it is, January 2nd, and I’ve already broken one of my resolutions.  I ate way too much yesterday, and not the good stuff either.  I deluded myself into thinking this was acceptable because it was a holiday, and it’s a tradition to over-eat on holidays.  Apparently the cheese dip went to my head and I just couldn’t stop myself.  It was so yummy.

But now I’m paying for it. Stomach in knots and banging my head against the wall as I realize I am not good at New Year’s resolutions.  Oh, I’m great at making them; it’s keeping them that’s the problem. Each year I try to make realistic resolutions, ones that stand a chance of being kept, and each year on December 31st I’m disappointed in myself for not sticking to the resolutions.  Honestly, I wonder why I even bother with these things.

Maybe the New Year’s resolutions aren’t the problem.  Maybe it’s that my results don’t match up with the goals I’ve set.   Apparently my expectations are based on fantasy, whereas the results are based in reality.  Let’s take a look and see where I went wrong this past year:

1)      Eat healthier.  This is always a good resolution.  My fantasy expectation was to bring healthy, nutritious lunches to work; to incorporate fresh vegetables and fruits with every meal.  Reality:  I brought my lunch more (yay), but most of the time it included tortilla chips.  Yes, they are made of corn but I don’t think they count as a veggie.  My guacamole intake also increased, and while avocados are considered a fruit (and since they are green I think they double as a veggie), too much of a good thing is a negative for the waistline.

2)      Exercise More.  In January Hubby and I started out great, with yoga classes, treadmills and weights. Hubby even took on the scary P90X program with much success.   Then somewhere along the way, reality kicked in.  Going to the gym became boring; work got in the way; sometimes it was too hot to exercise and other days it was too cold; the yoga teacher left town (hopefully not because of us) – the list of excuses goes on and on.   I even convinced myself that, being naturally small, I didn’t really need to worry about the gym.  LOL!  I must have been delusional from too much guacamole.

3)      Lose Weight/get in shape.  The reality of this resolution is that I would have lost five pounds and that I would have exercised enough to be toned and able to run three miles easily.  My fantasy expectation is that I would by now look like a super model with abs of steel and be in contention for a top finish in the Iron Man.  Of course neither the reality nor the fantasy version happened.  Duh – see the results of resolutions 1 & 2.

4)      Clean/organize the house.  In general our house is in pretty good shape.  But like everyone, we have a few spaces that always seem to be cluttered; a dumping ground of sorts for miscellaneous stuff.  My fantasy is that my house will be pristine and perfect; that House Beautiful could come take photos at anytime without one item out of place.  Reality?  The closet doors shut tightly enough to conceal most of the stuff, the couch is clear so people can sit down and the dog hair is kept to a minimum. 

5)      Save money.  This is always a top priority for us, one that we usually stick to.  But something happened this year and we’ve seen more money exit the accounts than we’d like.  Fantasy is that we would have only spent on necessities and saved the rest.   Reality is that the new shoe styles spoke to me more than usual this year, so my feet are happy but at the expense of the checkbook.

6)      Reconnect with friends.  You’d think this would be easy, since we have so many friends living within a 45 minute drive. Fantasy – I would have had at least one lunch with 10 different friends over the course of the year. That didn’t happen this year.  Reality is that I took more of a passive approach, sending notes that said “we’ve got to get together”.  Even had some follow-up notes trying to schedule a time.  But you know that drive time is something to consider, not to mention conflicting schedules.  And those with kids need to plan for such an outing, unlike me, who can be fairly spontaneous.  Sigh. I’m not going to win any “best friend” contest here.

It might be best to condense my 2013 resolutions down to one:  In 2013 I’ll visit the gym once a month, bring an apple to snack on at work once a week, I’ll have lunch with two friends during the year eating vegetable plates to stay healthy, I won’t look at the spare rooms in our house so the clutter will no longer bother me and I’ll only buy new shoes that are an absolute necessity.

Yeah, right. Like that’s really gonna happen.

Holiday Time-Out

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Merry Christmas!  Happy Hanukah! Happy Kwanza!  Hope you are enjoying the holidays.  Even those of you who celebrate Festivus – you know, the “holiday for the rest of us”.  I hope you watch Seinfeld reruns so you’ll understand what I mean.

I’m taking some time off and I hope you’ll join me.  Not lots of time; just a few days over the holidays to sit back and enjoy the season.  It’s great for all of us to take time off from thinking about work, or lack thereof, a job search, looking at job boards, polishing the resume and thinking about new opportunities.

For me and Hubby, we want to simply think about and appreciate what we have – and hopefully you can do the same.  When we think we have it bad, which is easy to do sometimes, especially when there’s no job, remember that there’s always someone who has it worse.  And if we think that others have it better than we do, we need to remember that things aren’t always as they appear. Besides, we shouldn’t be comparing ourselves to others anyway.

However you celebrate the season, enjoy!  I’m wishing you all the best.

Dear Santa, Please Help Me Find My Brain

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Christmas is my favorite holiday.  I love everything about it: the music, the reason behind the season, the houses lit up with a million twinkling lights, the trees and decorations, even the shopping makes me happy.  Yes, I enjoy being at the mall, soaking up the sights and sounds: the bell ringers, the piped in Christmas carols.

Starting the day after Thanksgiving, I usually try to immerse myself in all things Christmas.  No, I’m not a crazy Black Friday shopper, but I try to get in the groove of the holiday. I love to spend time just watching our mall Santa – who happens to look EXACTLY like Santa Claus, without a fake beard or tummy – as he speaks gently to children eager to share their Christmas wishes.  So tranquil and peaceful.

This year, something has happened to my peace and tranquility – and I want to know where it went! Apparently the Mayans messed with the dates on our December calendar and Christmas is suddenly upon us, sneaking up sort of stealth-like so we wouldn’t see it coming.  At least that’s what I’m telling myself.  It can’t possibly be that I miscalculated all that needed to be done and the time needed to complete it.  Nor would I have misread the calendar, right?

Between work and family and work and shopping and work and social obligations, my happy holiday mood is more like “hurry, hurry, hurry”.   Did I mention that work is getting in the way?  Hard to be upset with this, since it wasn’t too long ago when Hubby and I were both unemployed for the holidays.

In an attempt to bring holiday peace to my life, I decided to start the day at my favorite local coffee spot.  I even planned to get up early so I could leisurely read the paper while sipping coffee, and still make it to the office on time.  The alarm went off as planned, however my brain decided not to participate in the early wake-up call, convincing my hand instead to hit the snooze button at least 4 times. Luckily we have a four-legged alarm clock who wants her breakfast early, so my brain was forced to engage.  Yay, I thought to myself – my peaceful coffee plan will work!

I hurriedly got ready and made it to the shop – it was so peaceful, with Christmas carols softly playing in the background.  Things were going so smoothly that I patted myself on the back.  As I drove towards the office, even the traffic didn’t bother me in my peaceful holiday state. Suddenly it occurred to me that I wasn’t wearing my glasses – problem is that I was halfway to work.  Knowing that my arrival time was in jeopardy, I now had to safely yet swiftly backtrack for my glasses.  Arriving at the shop I rushed in and looked around – no glasses to be seen.  The shopkeeper looked at me oddly as I asked him if he had seen my glasses – surely I didn’t leave the house without them, did I?  It was then I realized that I was already wearing my glasses. ON MY EYES.  Not even on top of my head, which would at least have been a bit less humiliating.

Embarrassed, I continued on to work.  As I settled into my desk, I looked for my big red mug that I carry daily, filled with ice.  I’m a huge fan of staying hydrated, and without an ice machine at work my mug is a necessity, in my opinion.  Retracing my steps, it was not in the break room, nor the conference room or any of the offices.  I even looked out the window at my car in the lot to see if the mug was, by chance, perched on top of my car.  You know that mugs like to ride on the roof sometimes.  Panicked – yes, ice is very important to me – I began asking co-workers if they’d seen my mug.  In a desperate attempt I headed for the elevator, to be greeted by another co-worker who found my mug – by the mailbox on the ground floor.  Not sure why it was there since I didn’t mail anything. At least I don’t think I mailed anything, or did I?

Snickers were all around as I walked sheepishly to my office, wearing my glasses and cradling my mug.  That’s it, I thought to myself.  I’ve gone around the bend, off the ledge, whatever you want to call it as long as you don’t say it’s “because I’m getting older”.  I’m not older, I’m just stressed for the holidays. It’s those Mayans, I tell you.

Just in case, I’m going to stop by the mall tonight and find Santa.  I need to sit on his knee and listen to his calm voice while I ask him to please help me find my brain.  That’s all I want for Christmas.

There Are No Words

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(Today is a departure from my usual humor. Bear with me; this means a lot to me.)

Here I am, sitting on the sidelines. A spectator at an event I don’t wish to attend.  None of us want to be here yet here we are, smiling, trying to be supportive.  People move in and out, some we know and some we don’t know, in a slow dance to which the steps are unknown.  Words usually come easy for me yet now they fail me.  I have nothing to say; there are no words.

Funerals are never easy. This one is particularly difficult for so many reasons.  The young life that tragically ended way too soon; my friend, the young widow and her baby that are left behind; the realization that my life, like hers, could be changed in an instant.  And I sit on the sidelines, no words to be found.

Unfortunately death is not new to me.  However, I feel this one more deeply than even my own father’s.  This one has touched something deep in my soul.  My heart thumps louder than normal, almost out of my chest.  My mind is restless, unable to think of anything but my friend.  Time seems to move slowly and at the same time rapidly.  I am heartbroken for her.

Usually I’m in charge. I’m the one people look to for direction, to handle tough situations.  My friend needs me now, needs me to be the one to take care of things.  I’m trying to push my feelings aside in order to help yet a cloud is following me, clogging my mind, and I can’t seem to emerge from the fog. I can’t fix this. Not this time.  And I have no words.

I know what’s to come in the following minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years.  Time suddenly moves slowly, yet it moves on.  We all have to move forward even though we don’t want to.  I want to shout from the highest mountain, asking the universe to stop and give us time.  Yet it keeps going.

Sitting on the sidelines, I understand that we will, eventually, be peaceful again. At some point we will have happy thoughts and conversations that don’t dwell on today. But I am impatient since there are no words; I want that time to be now, without the journey laid out before us. 

I will get up from the sidelines and help my friend.  That’s best for her and it’s best for me.  Still, there are no words.

Come on Everybody Let’s do the Samba

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When Hubby and I were laid-off, one of our first concerns was staying healthy. We didn’t want to end up as couch potatoes eating countless bags of chips all day while watching TV talk shows focused on Baby Mama Drama. Tempting, I know. Who doesn’t want to watch strangers air their dirty laundry?

Hubby focused on exercise like he was training for the Olympics. A fan of the at-home exercise DVD, he would sweat out daily workouts with the dog. Well, Hubby did all the sweating. The dog played the role of the coach. Similarly, when I was laid-off I took advantage of the daytime classes offered at the gym. It was a great way to break the monotony of searching for a job. Besides, I wanted to see who all these people were who could spend the day at the gym.

Now that we are both working again our exercise routines have slipped. Combine that with the fact that our favorite yoga instructor decided to take a dream job teaching at a spa in Costa Rica (hard to believe, I know), and we are finding it difficult to stay motivated.

While searching for alternative ways to exercise, I stumbled upon a dance studio that included classes for adults – that don’t involve a pole. Perfect, I thought! I used to be a dancer; this is just what I need to jump start my exercise program. Scanning the options, it was hard to choose. There’s Zumba, but I had done that before and was not impressed. Hip Hop sounded fun but I had a schedule conflict; even Bollywood sounded interesting. But it was the Samba class that spoke to me, calling my name. I imagined picking up the steps easily, my body becoming toned with abs of steel like the pros on Dancing with the Stars. Yep, that was the class for me.

I showed up a bit early and the instructor asked if I was ready for this. “It’s going to be difficult since this is your first class. Are you sure you are ready?” she said. What? Who does she think I am? Of course I’m ready! “Bring it!” I boldly stated.

I took a place in the back of the room, not wanting to show off too much. After all, these younger women may not have had the same dance training that I had many years ago. The music started and a gentleman with beautiful long hair that most women would envy instantly began an aerobics routine that was high-impact on steroids. No problem, I thought. I can do this, although it’s not exactly dancing.

Suddenly the music changed and without any instruction everyone began wildly dancing to certain eight count combinations. Didn’t matter if they were eight or sixteen count to me; I was just trying to watch the instructors’ feet to figure out what to do. And silly me; I was thinking Samba as seen on DWTS, more of a ballroom dance. This was Samba for single people who are regulars on the club scene, dancing until the wee hours and still getting up in time for work.

The guy with the pretty hair stopped and the woman instructor started. Not fair, I thought! They get to tag-team and take a break from the frenetic pace of this so-called dance. Still believing in myself I moved my hips, feet, arms and legs as fast as possible, actually keeping up with the class. You’ve still got it girl, I thought to myself. Never mind that the only word I could understand through their thick accents was “Samba”; I had figured out that this word was the signal to move your feet faster than the speed of light. Not sure if I was actually doing the right steps but I was moving.

Just as I was beginning to get the hang of the dance and shaking everything I’ve got, I felt a “snap” under my shirt. Hmmm, wonder what that was? I kept dancing and moving and shaking, until I realized that my bra had snapped and I was indeed shaking all over. Mortified, I Samba’d my way off the dance floor, searching for a bathroom to try and remedy the situation.

Back on the dance floor I continued to move and shake and shimmy while hoping my bra held up. Finally the music stopped. Every cheered “Samba” and I was invigorated from this class. Who am I kidding? I was exhausted, drenched in sweat and my face was the color of a lobster. My hair was so wet I looked as though I’d taken a swimming class instead.

“Are you staying for the next class?” the instructor asked. “Uh, maybe not this time,” I stammered and I tried to steady myself enough to walk. Once home, Hubby looked up as I came through the door. Noticing my red face and drenched hair, he asked “How was the class? Looks like it was a good workout.”

Little does he know, huh? I challenged him to try the class and see if he could move and shake like the guy with the long hair. Hubby didn’t say a word. He knew better. And he also knew that he would have to help me out of bed the next morning so I could Samba my way into work.

It’s hard to stay in shape, isn’t it?

Project Tango: Dancing With a Deadline

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Sometimes I wonder why I ever bother with planning. Try as I might to have a plan in place to keep my hectic life in order, somehow things change and the plan becomes more of a guideline. This is okay in many aspects, such as weekend social plans. I actually prefer doing things “spur of the moment” instead of having every waking minute of the weekend scheduled. While Hubby and I are usually good planners for big social events, we win the prize for lack of planning when it comes to regular weekend activities.

Given our very hectic and incredibly structured work weeks, this laid-back weekend approach is a nice change. There are drawbacks, of course, as you would expect with a lack of planning. The newest and best restaurants get booked in advance, so we can’t arrive without a reservation at the normal dinner hour of seven and expect to be seated at a table before ten. Go figure. And because we lack the energy to plan most of our weekend social events, we sometimes miss opportunities for serious fun. I mean, should I really look at the paper or internet for fun and exciting local entertainment? Seriously, who has time for that? No, I’m not bitter that we missed our favorite local band that played last night. Close by, at a great venue. For free! It’s Hubby’s fault, I tell you, that we didn’t get to dance the night away. Hubby says, “whatever”. He’s not bitter either.

Where lack of planning becomes a real issue is with work projects. Hubby and I both work in industries that require a great deal of planning, yet also require a great deal of flexibility. Simply getting a project approved to start takes some serious patience and lots of work. Once approved, projects start and stop multiple times, details of the project are in constant flux, and even deadlines may change. It’s enough to make a person go mad.

I like to think that I’ve grown accustomed to my industry, with all of the changes and last minute do-over’s. But lately it’s getting the best of me. A planner at heart, I like to have some sort of organization and schedule. Plans are necessary as they provide a roadmap not only for the company but also my team. Plans allow me to manage more effectively, and hopefully maintain some work-life balance. In theory, anyway. Since I never seem to get to stay with my plan, I’m not sure that it would really work.

Planning for work is sort of like doing the tango, a passionate dance that moves back and forth with aggression and purpose, each side trying to wrestle the other one to their way of thinking. I’ve had a project on the calendar for more than a month now, leading the team through the various stages, each week building on the information from the previous week in an attempt to meet our deadline without causing everyone to pull an all-nighter at the last minute. There’s that “work-life balance” thing again.

It’s occurred to me as we enter the last stretch of the project that no matter how hard I’ve planned or how hard the team has worked, we are probably going to pull an all-nighter. In our “project tango”, the rest of our projects will get pushed to the side; we’ll work non-stop in the final days to finish the current project as changes fly at us right and left, and then, without a minute to rest, we have to pick up the pieces of the other “planned” projects that were ignored as we tangoed the project out the door.

My conclusion on work planning: the only good thing about doing the “project tango” is finally the music stops and the dance is finished; we’ve made the deadline. The bad news: we’ve rearranged all of our other project plans and we can see more all-nighters on the horizon.

The music starts, and the dance begins. Project Tango is underway again.

You Never Know When You’re Going to Get the Perfect Picture

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It’s Thanksgiving, and you know what that means.  No, I’m not talking about food, although the holiday does mean being thankful, and it does include turkey, dressing and pie.  For me and Hubby, Thanksgiving means we have to buckle down and finalize our Christmas card.  Hubby and I pride ourselves on creating a unique holiday card, the kind that tells a story with only a picture or very few words.  Each year we strive to create one that’s even better than the year before.  Usually there’s a big event that tells the story, such as the year Hubby was laid-off.  We re-created “American Gothic”, the couple standing in front of a farm house with the guy holding a pitchfork, except I was in a business suit holding a laptop and Hubby wore sweats, my apron and bunny slippers, while holding a toilet brush in one hand and a spatula in the other.  Clearly the news was, “Guess who’s staying at home these days?”

This year, we’re in trouble. We got nothin’.   It’s not that we haven’t talked about the card, or brainstormed ideas, or taken tons of pictures.   This year we haven’t really done anything except work way too much. No exotic vacations.  No life-changing events like a lay-off, which is really a blessing but it’s a curse when it comes to the Christmas card.  Yes, Hubby did receive a promotion (Way to go, Hubby!) and I did get my book published (which is a great Christmas or Hanukkah gift, I might add – www.talesoftheterminated.com).  But our card is about both Hubby and me, not something that highlights just one of us.  Besides, neither of those happenings scream, “Cool holiday card”, do they?

The biggest consideration is that our Christmas card always includes a photo of us.  Challenge is that Hubby has a difficult time getting his picture taken.  He’s not embarrassed or shy.  But just one look at the camera or photographer and Hubby goes all deer-in-the-headlights and closes his eyes. In almost every-single-shot.  Doesn’t matter if it’s a professional photog or a candid shot by a friend, he can’t seem to relax for a photo shoot.  Until now.

Saturday was supposed to be “date-night”, yet errands had us out until dinnertime. Tired and hungry, we opted for a quick dinner and a stroll at the mall for some fun window shopping and people watching. By chance we stumbled upon a “do-it-yourself” photography set-up.  Not the little machine that spits out a row of pictures while you both try to sit on the mini-chair behind the curtain. This was a real photography set-up, with a big light and a backdrop.  We watched as another couple played in front of the camera, with the photos popping up on a computer in front of us while we tried to figure out how it worked.  Turns out it was basically free, and only a minimal cost if you wanted one of the images for your own use. No one was in line so I coaxed Hubby into giving this a try.  “But I’m not dressed well, and my hair isn’t fixed,” cried Hubby.  Yeah, that’s normally a girl-thing, but I’m glad he’s interested in his appearance.  I reminded him that I wasn’t exactly looking my best either.

We decided to be brave and go for it. One of us held a small clicker that controlled the camera. We started out just smiling, and then started making goofy poses. Laughing and having fun, we didn’t care if anyone saw us and it was a great way to spend time together.  Afterward, as we reviewed the forty-plus images on the computer screen, our jaws dropped. The.Best.Pictures.Ever. All black and white photos, both of us smiling, laughing, having fun, and eyes wide open.

At that moment it hit me: our Christmas card photo was here! I’ll admit that there were a few “oopses” in the bunch, like one with part of my head cut off and one with Hubby holding the clicker in plain sight of the camera.  But there were more good ones than bad and Hubby had his eyes open in almost all of them, which is something new for us. Even our outfits and hair look good.  It took us a while to narrow down our choices but we did find our 2012 Christmas card photo. No, I’m not going to share it with you now. You’ll get yours in the mail or will eventually see it on Facebook. But trust me, it’s perfect!