Complicated Simplicity

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Have you noticed how complicated life seems to be nowadays?  We’re connected to everyone at all times through devices made to simplify our lives.  Many of us are working several jobs trying to make ends meet, the result of a lay-off.
I used to think that things would get simpler with age and experience. Not sure where I got this crazy idea.  Guess it was my younger self imagining that I would have figured everything out in terms of career, love, family and friends, and my life would sort of hum along at a good, steady pace.
LOL!  Even reading my last sentence has me laughing between the tears of stress.
Instead of things being easier and less-stressful, it’s completely the opposite.  Mortgage, career, relationships, aging parents, trying to keep some sort of social life.  More responsibility, more pressure.  And we don’t have kids!  I shudder to think of how something as precious as a baby would complicate things.  
Now my dog is looking at me like I’ve totally dissed her. I will concede that my wonderful four-legged daughter does add some complexity to our lives.  Especially when she refuses to take a bathroom break in the rain for fear of getting her fur wet.
How did life get so complex?  For me it started in high school.  I was a “joiner”, belonging to numerous clubs and organizations. My calendar was filled to the brim with meetings, dance classes, drill team practice, social events and work.  Not sure how I managed to study, but I did, bringing home straight A’s.
This need to always be busy or attempt to over-achieve has followed me into adulthood.  Like gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe, I cannot seem to break away from busyness.   Yes, it’s good to have interests and be busy.  But sometimes too much of a good thing turns into a bad thing.
When the lay-offs hit our family, both Hubby and I took on as many consulting gigs and other work roles as we could find.  The good news is that we discovered new interests and found that there are lots of ways to make money.   Hubby found out he’s a good and passionate teacher, keeping this part time gig even after going back to work full time.  I rediscovered my creative side and have a new-found joy in writing, in addition to consulting and mentoring.
All good, right?
The problem with having too much of a good thing is that it suddenly isn’t fun anymore.  By trying to do it all, I find I’m running out of steam. Frustration is building.  Taking on every consulting gig, writing opportunities, networking, family obligations, mentoring and other stuff has my head spinning.  Social life and relaxation?  What’s that?  Social life is completely gone, whittled down to an occasional dinner with friends.  Hubby and I are so busy that relaxation seems like a luxury reserved for special occasions.  At best we live for Friday nights, when we take a couple hours to have dinner and try to catch up with each other.  
So what should a person do?  Of course the answer is to eliminate or pare down the work load.  But the answer is complicated in its simplicity. What do we give up?  The things that provide the most pleasure are not necessarily the ones that pay the bills.  Yet if we give up things that bring joy, we’re stuck in a rut of simply existing. 
And don’t get me started on the electronic devices.  Smart phones and tablets, in addition to the computer, have made it too easy for us to always be “on”.  Yet I’m addicted to these devices in a love-hate relationship that’s next to impossible to break. 
I don’t have the answers except to say that I’m working through things right now.  While I chat on the phone, type on the computer and check email on my iPad. 
Breaking up is really hard to do.
© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved

Customer Service 101

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Competition is fierce these days, isn’t it?  Especially in consumer goods and services.  It used to be that stores could negotiate “exclusives” – products that could only be found at one retailer.  It was and still is a retailers’ best move.  A move designed to get customers to come to their store for certain items.
Exclusives have become harder to negotiate. Even high-end specialty chains are forced to accept the fact that what used to be “exclusive” to them can now be found in several locations. Not only do designers or brands want their products available in a variety of locations, they even open their own stores.
Sheesh – what’s a retailer to do?
Seems like the natural inclination would be to provide “extreme customer service”.  To provide an experience so wonderful, so profound, that customers will gravitate toward your establishment not because it’s the only place to find a product but because they enjoy the ride.  This is something that many claim, yet few master.
I should mention that I have first-hand experience here, having spent most of my career in retail at both the corporate and store level. And with the abundance of folks looking for work these days you’d think that stores would be staffed with top-notch associates. Apparently not.
Case in point. In planning for an upcoming overseas trip, Hubby and I decide to add an international plan to our mobile phone package.  Even a discounted price per minute or MB would be better than overseas roaming charges.
Easy, right?  Call the toll-free number, explain what I need and voila, we’re done. 
LOL! 
Before I go further, let me say that I am fully aware that many call centers are no longer stateside and that language barriers may exist.  Yet I expect that I will still get the information I need.
That was my first mistake. It was like a bad interpretation of the famous baseball skit, “Who’s on First?”   
Me: I’m interested in adding an overseas plan for a few weeks, including data.
Heavy Accent: Vell, vhat plan do you vant?
Me: Not sure; what are your plans?
Heavy Accent: Plans vary. Vhat plan do you vant?
Me – again, with frustration: What are your plans?  How do I know what plan I want when you won’t tell me about the plans?
Heavy Accent: Vell there’s no need to get mad. I cannot help you if you are mad. Thank you for calling. Click.
So much for that transaction.
No problem; I’ll head to the local store where I can talk to someone in person, face to face. I’m sure they’ll want my business and be happy to help.  As Hubby likes to say, “Let’s go talk to the clown”, his nod to all things drive-through.
Hubby and I enter the almost vacant store. Two sales associates to our right are working with customers; there are two more associates to our left plus one in front of us, all without customers.  Sweet!  This should be easy.
Associate: “Hi! How can we help you today?”
Me: “We want to learn about international voice and data plans.”
Associate: “OK. We need you to enter your information into this computer, and we’ll get you in line to speak with someone.”
Me: “What line? Why do I need to do this? We’re the only ones here. Can I just speak with someone? We’re in a bit of a time crunch.”
Associate:  “Well, the sales associates are busy.”
I glance around the store wondering if other customers are wearing a cloak of invisibility, as I still see two “free” associates and only two customers other than me and Hubby.
Me:  “Can one of those two associates help us?”
Associate:  “One of them is about to go on break.” 
Me:  “Of course they are.  I certainly wouldn’t want them to miss a break.  What about the other one?” 
Associate: “Oh, that’s the manager.”
Me – frustration building:  “So you’re telling me that the manager doesn’t actually do any work?  Is that why he can’t help us?”
Associate:  “Uh, I uh, well, um…..”
Hubby looks at me, eyes pleading me to not twist off.  I smile at the associate, while telling her I think it’s amazing that the store manager is incapable of helping a customer with a transaction.  Yes, I believe I said it a little loudly.  I wanted to make sure the manager knew why we were leaving.
And we did leave.  Did it help?  Doubt it. They probably couldn’t care less that we left, especially since they don’t receive any direct revenue as a result of my needing an international calling plan.
Yet they should care. Little did they know that at that same time, I was interested in purchasing a new phone.  And the accessories. 
I’m sure I’ll get my new phone.  Just not from that particular location.  After all, it’s not an exclusive.
© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved

There’s No Crying in Blogging

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Each week I set aside specific times to write, marking this time as a meeting on my calendar so I stay on track. Usually this works well.  There are also unscheduled occasions when an idea hits me and I run to the computer to let my thoughts flow.  Sometimes, when I’m not near my computer, I have to reach for the nearest piece of paper and jot my thoughts down while they’re fresh in my mind.  In any case, I’ve got a system for accomplishing my writing goals.
And today is writing day.  It’s a great day for it, too.  Weather’s cold and bit cloudy; a great day to stay inside.  Coffee in hand, I log on to the computer, ready for whatever brilliant, creative idea hits me.
Yep, I’m ready. Any second now the creative juices will flow.  Here we go.  OK, just a minute more.  Ready, set, write!
Tick-tock, the clock seems to be urging me to write, to do something.  Anything.
I look through all my notes, things that I jot down from time to time.  Usually there’s creative inspiration somewhere on these scraps of paper.   
I’m not sure what’s wrong. It’s like my brain has locked up, unable to think, unable to do anything. I can’t even seem to move in my chair.
Panic starts to set in as I know that I need to write.  The more I panic, the less creative I become.   
I stand up from my desk. I stretch. I walk outside for a minute. Pet the dog. Play solitaire. Look at a magazine.  Close my eyes and try to imagine the story flowing effortlessly through my fingers and onto the page.
Suddenly it occurs to me that I may not be able to write anything today.  Not possible! It’s on the schedule. It’s “writing day”.  I massage my temples, eyes closed.  Must…write…creatively.
Now I’m frantic.  What will I do if I can’t write something?  Tick-tock, tick-tock.  Now the clock seems to be mocking me, making fun of my inability to write on command. Why do we still have a clock that makes noise? Shouldn’t that be digital?
As the minutes slip by I become paralyzed in front of my desk.  I realize the sky is dark, getting close to evening.  Here I sit, alone in the dark, in front of a blank computer screen – no witty words on the page.  Fear of failure creeps in.   I can feel my lips begin to quiver as a lone tear runs down my cheek.
The door opens and Hubby comes in.  “What’s wrong?” he asks.  “Why are you sitting in the dark?”  At that point the sobbing begins as I tell him I’m done.  No more writing for me; apparently I’ve used up all the creative ideas in my mind.  Forever.  Writing, my favorite creative endeavor, must be over.  My shoulders shake as the feeling of failure envelopes me.
As gently as possible, Hubby tries to console me.  He knows to tread lightly.  One time, early in our marriage, he encountered a similar situation and in an attempt to help get me moving forward again he told me to “buck up, little soldier”.  As many of you know, these are not the words a woman wants to hear when she’s in need of consoling.  Let’s just say that was not a good night for Hubby.
Smarter and wiser this time, he hugs me and holding my face in his hands he says simply, “there’s no crying in blogging”. 
I don’t know about you, but this does not seem like the best time for a baseball analogy, does it? 
Yet I know he’s right, even if I don’t want to admit it.  Writing is fun to me. This is what drives me to get up. It challenges me and forces me to think about things in a different way.  Why should I cry over something that I enjoy so much?
Again, it’s that fear of failure creeping in.  Especially since the lay-off.  I’m even more driven to succeed than before, and the pressure I put on myself is probably a bit much. 
Will I ever lose the fear?  I hope so.  And Hubby’s right; I’ll get my creative juices flowing again.  This is simply a temporary set-back. 
I still think there can be crying in blogging.  After all, it got me to write this post. 
© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved

Rear-View Strategy

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I’m an expert when it comes to seeing the benefit of life’s happenings.  Bold statement, I know.  But I really am an expert at this and can definitely answer the question “why” as it relates to life events.   As long as they’ve already happened, that is.
In the midst of things, I often wonder “why” things are the way they are.  Especially during the not-so-good times.  I think, “I’m a nice person, what good could possibly come of this?”
Or more simply stated, “What the #@!*”?
Some years ago, Hubby announced that one of the many items on his bucket list was a trip to the Indianapolis 500.  Ever the supportive wife, I told him he’d better find someone else to go with him as I certainly was not going to waste time on such a dumb sport, cars perpetually driving to the left for hours.  And by no stretch of the imagination would I ever agree to spend a weekend in the middle of a race track in an RV, as I’d seen people do at the races on TV. 
The very next week I earned a promotion to manage my company’s national sponsorships and promotions.  I’m sure the look on my face said it all when my new boss gave me a folder and said, “We’re just negotiating a motorsports agreement with Indianapolis; see what you can do with it”.  Aughh!  I clearly remember the grin on Hubby’s face when he heard the news and realized that he would get to accompany me to the Indy 500 to see cars drive in a perpetual left-turn.
Determined to do my best at this new opportunity, I dug in and learned everything I could about the sport and why it could benefit our company.  Turns out it’s not so dumb after all.
Ever watch an auto race?  Athletes the size of jockeys driving multi-million dollar computers on wheels, singularly focused on that perpetual left-turn for hours and miles on end.  They’d better be focused. At speeds of over 200 mph, even they can see the emergency crews on the edge of the track. 
And talk about strategy – they’ve got a plan for everything.  When to change tires, when to pass another car, when to re-fuel.  Races are won by hundredths of a second so every decision must be well thought out.  
It wasn’t too long into my new job that I officially became a “gear-head”, knowing more about the sport and the drivers than most men.  Luckily for me I never had to stay in an RV.
Fast-forward several years. A recruiter called, looking for someone with very specific career experience:  retail, strategy, marketing, and – believe it or not – motor sports.  Someone with Indy experience.  Wow.  What an odd combination, yet it was me all the way.   I got the job – and I had a light-bulb moment as I remembered my “what the #@!*” thought when I was handed the Indy folder.
I would love to say that all of this happened because of strategic career moves on my part.  I would love to show you a planning document that I developed early in my career, outlining the skills I should acquire on my road to success.  But I can’t.  Nope, as strategic as I am in my work, even I wasn’t prepared for every twist and turn. 
Yet every experience, good and not-so-good, seems to enhance my future.  Even the lay-offs in our house hold have been beneficial. Hubby and I discovered hidden skills that have led to new opportunities. We realized that although we loved our jobs, we can shift gears, adapt and move on to something new.
Out of the motor sports chapter of my life came more than a job opportunity.  I also gained a great group of friends and colleagues that I’m still in regular contact with, including drivers and others in the race industry.  Hubby bonded with several of the other husbands that attended the races while we women worked (isn’t that how it always goes?).  Once at home, we became a dinner group called “The Trailing Spouses”, named lovingly after our Hubbies who trailed after us at such events.
 Yep, I’m an expert at rear-view strategy.  Wish I could identify it a bit sooner, although now I try to simply accept what’s happening and prepare myself for future benefits.  
In the meantime, I’ll keep driving to the left.
© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved

Happy Birthday to My Blog

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A year ago today, Hubby and I were sitting in the home office, trapped in the house due to an ice-storm.  Both of us were at our computers. He was working; I was surfing the net for job opportunities and playing the occasional game of solitaire.  As I tried to stay warm, it dawned on me that exactly one year earlier I had been laid off. 
I started thinking about my year and remembered that only a few months earlier I had begun to write about my journey through unemployment. The intention was that I would start a blog.  But I let my personal doubts and fears creep in, thinking “why would anyone want to read this?” and “I’ll be embarrassed to let anyone read my writing”.     
I guess the ice storm froze all my fears, and as we shivered in the home office I plugged in the flash drive loaded with my writing.  Overcome by a moment of bravery, I wrote my first blog post and alerted the world through Facebook. 
Immediately I regretted my decision, certain that friends across the country were laughing at my writing.  Fear was back. I pulled a blanket over my head so no one could see me cry.
Within seconds I had my first response.  Hubby had to read it to me; I was too nervous.  “It’s good!” he said.  “They like your post”.  
A tiny bit of courage started pushing my fear aside.  A few days later I wrote another post and broadened my audience.  More good response and lots of encouragement from friends to keep writing. Tales of the Terminated™ was born!
It’s been a year of writing and I’ve loved every minute of it.  My heart-felt thanks to everyone for your encouragement and support.  My writing has been fun as well as therapeutic.  It brought the opportunity to write a monthly column for the paper.  And most surprising of all, it has helped me find work. 
Funny to think that my personal tales from the lay-off have provided a silver lining to an otherwise dark cloud.   
Tales of the Terminated™ is far from done. I’ve got so many personal tales as a result of the lay-off.  And I’m no longer afraid to share my thoughts and observations with the rest of the world.
Happy 1st Birthday, Tales of the Terminated™.  I’m so proud of you.
© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved

Competitive Careering

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To say I’m competitive is an understatement.  Every time I complete something at work or in my personal life, I immediately begin to evaluate what I would do better next time. Just ask Hubby.  We’ve been married fifteen years and I’m still evaluating our wedding and reception, looking at things I would do differently if I had a chance to do it over. Not that I’m looking for that chance, but the perfectionist/competitor in me just doesn’t stop.
I’d tweak my dress a bit, add a trumpet to the music, wear different shoes and most importantly, I’d eat something at the reception.  I’m sure the food was great; we just didn’t get any of it.
With everything I do, it’s like I’m in a race to be the best.  Sometimes it’s against me, if there’s no one else to compete with.
Not sure where I got this competitive streak; it’s not like I played competitive sports or anything.  It probably started in elementary school with competitive recess. Who can jump rope longest? Climb the monkey bars faster?
Whether it’s getting the best grades, being in the best club, having the best outfit, succeeding at work – I always want to be the best. Even having the best room in a hotel is a big deal.  Yep, it can be really hard to live with me.  Hubby is not saying a word about this last statement.  Smart man.
So you can imagine how I felt upon receiving an email from that ever-popular networking site Linked In, informing me that a former colleague had been promoted to President of a global company.  How fabulous! Of course I immediately sent a note offering my heartfelt congratulations.
While I do wish him well and I’m sure he’s very deserving, there’s a part of me that’s a tiny bit envious.  OK, a lot envious. Completely and utterly envious, jealous and every other similar word you can think of.
Thoughts of “why him?” run through my head.  I’m just as smart, why isn’t this me?  What’s wrong with me and my career? Waa, waa, waa, I cry at this pity-party. Instead of feeling great for him – after all this is his news – I feel caught in a competitive trap, that somehow my career is not as good, that I’m not living up to my potential and that fate has indeed struck me a raw deal. 
The excuses run through my mind.  “I’m not able to move half-way around the world for work”, “Those jobs probably require incredible sacrifice”, and my favorite excuse, “He must have naked pictures of the executives”. 
Truth be told, there are probably numerous reasons why he’s excelling. He’s smart, he has indeed made personal sacrifices and he’s worked his butt off. 
It’s hard not to compare ourselves to others.  The things we strive for at work – title, money, prestige, accomplishment – add up to one thing: confidence.  I know, I know, we shouldn’t place all of our worth on our career.  Perhaps if I had children I could channel some of this competitive energy towards my kids so they could excel at recess. 
I know I’m not alone in feeling less-than-successful when hearing news of someone else’s career advancement.  Such feelings become amplified if we’re stuck in a job we don’t like or if we’ve been laid-off.  Good news from others can be a bitter pill to swallow.
Here’s a radical idea: let’s just be happy with our own accomplishments, rather than tethering our feelings of success to a comparative analysis of someone else! 
Did I just hear crickets?  I can tell by your silence you think I’ve lost my mind.
Actually I agree with you.  The idea of being happy with ourselves and our career without comparing ourselves to others is powerful, although incredibly difficult to achieve. I find myself at odds with this concept all the time.   
 Dad always used to tell me “just do your best and that’s good enough”.  I wish it were that simple.
© Tami Cannizzaro 2012  All Rights Reserved

Calling In Sick

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It had to happen sooner or later.  It makes me so frustrated.  I just hate it.
I should have recognized the symptoms over the weekend.  Something just didn’t feel right, like I’d worked out too hard at the gym.  Except that I hadn’t been to the gym in the past few days.
Then it hit with a vengeance.  The tickle in the throat, the sudden chills.  By dinner time it was a full-on attack, with my throat burning and my entire body aching.
What’s up?  All through the holidays I tried to eat right, exercise and get enough sleep.  Especially with the added stress of job hunting.
I’m pretty sure it was the last holiday party that got me.  Lots of folks in close quarters.  Especially the “close talker” – you know, the kind that invades your personal space.  This one cornered me with nowhere to run.  I tried to back away, but there was no room.  Trapped! So close that I could feel his breath as he spoke.  Ick.   I would have offered him a Tic-Tac if I’d had one.  Or maybe I should have sprayed a disinfectant to kill any potential germs.
And now I’m sick.  Mr. In-Your-Face is just fine I’m sure, and probably close-talking someone at his office right this second. 
I allowed myself to sleep a bit late this morning.  When I finally had the strength to get out of bed, I grabbed the phone to call in sick.  Funny thing, how do you call in sick when you’re laid off?
It seems cruel to be reminded of the lack of work when you’re sick.  Isn’t there a hotline like 1-800-IAM SICK, or something? Anyone I could call to let someone know?  There’s got to be someone who could listen to my hoarse voice and cough, someone to justify the sick day.  Hubby doesn’t want to get near me for fear he’ll catch the dreaded crud that I’ve got.  I don’t blame him.
The dog tries to console me as I drag myself to the couch. She brings me a squeaky toy, hoping that a quick game of toss will make me feel better.  I accept the slobbery toy, figuring her germs might somehow be a cure for the crud.  Unfortunately, the crud stays and I have a hand full of slobber. Her attention is nice, but she doesn’t understand why I’m upset.  No one to call, no one at work wondering if I’m really sick or wondering if I’m able to get some work done as I lay on the couch. 
Sigh.  Sick with the crud and no one cares.  Not entirely true; Hubby cares and so does the dog, but I’m talking about the stressful kind of caring that comes with worrying about work while you’re sick.  Humph. I can’t even enjoy the sick day since there’s nothing to worry about. 
Do you suppose the good people at Career Builder or Monster want to know if I’m sick?  They’re probably wondering why I haven’t been online to look for new opportunities. 
Even Facebook isn’t interesting today.  Those who are working don’t want to hear about my sore throat or runny nose or that I’m still in my p.j.’s.  They would make all sorts of comments about how nice it must be not having to worry about work.  If only they knew.
Whine, whine, whine.  I guess that’s what I’ll do today.  Just in case you were wondering, I did call someone.  Our local pizza delivery guy.  At least he knows I’m sick and he offered to bring me a pizza for only $10.99. 
Pizza and whine.  It’s a good day to be sick.
© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved

Forced Family Fun

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Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukah!  Happy Kwanza!  Best wishes to you and yours as you celebrate the holiday season.
We’re on a plane.  Not right this second, but we will be shortly.  A quick day trip to spend time with my family.  All of us, together under one roof.  Lots of fun; tons of food.  Yes, it’s a long day.  I think of it as a time-honored tradition, one that we all agree to even if it is just once a year.
My friend refers to holidays as Forced Family Fun. 
At first I thought this was a bit sad.  Doesn’t everyone want to travel great distances or host large groups, all in the name of family tradition?  How could you miss Auntie’s famous yellow Jell-O salad with potato chips, the one that no one eats but tradition says we’re required to have? How about the high-decibel shrieking of dozens of kids running through the house?  What about peace, love and harmony? Earplugs, anyone?
Who am I kidding?  As much as I love my family – and I really do; they are the best – sometimes it just seems like too much.  Stressed out from work, overwhelmed with the millions of things going on in our lives, with no time to relax and enjoy the season – for Hubby and me, family time is the last thing on our list.  Top of the list is sleep, followed closely by a couch potato contest to see who can remain on the couch the longest. We’d just like a day without obligations to enjoy the peace and quiet.
 Yet every holiday, families around the world spend time and money simply to be together. 
We load up the car, drive long distances, sleep on the floor or the couch or wherever, share a bathroom full of toddler toys, step all over each other in a house that’s too small even for the family that lives there – and for what? A turkey dinner?
No. We do it for family.  Tradition. A sense of belonging.  And most importantly, for us.
It’s not always easy to travel to these get-togethers, nor is it easy to be the host.  And when people start getting cranky I try to remember that there will be a day when the older relatives are gone and we’ll be left to fend for ourselves.  We’ll long for the day when we actually were required to be somewhere for the holiday, and we’ll actually miss the shrieking kids as we try to re-create Auntie’s Jell-O salad.
Maybe the holidays are Forced Family Fun.  You know what?  Bring it on.  I’m ready.
© Tami Cannizzaro 2011 All Rights Reserved

Time is a Funny Thing

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Time is a funny thing.  Seems like it either moves too slowly or too fast; never at the right speed. 
When I was a kid, time seemed to move at a snail’s pace during the school year.  Especially around Christmas.  As soon as Thanksgiving was over, mom and dad would start decorating and shopping.  Sis and I started counting the weeks, days and minutes until Christmas.  It was both exciting and agonizing.  Once the brightly wrapped presents came out, we could hardly contain ourselves, pleading with mom to let us open just one present early.
After the holidays, time seemed to come to a screeching halt. All I could see were the endless months of school ahead.  It was hideous.  Despite that I was a good student and basically enjoyed school, it still seemed never-ending.
When the final bell rang on classes I’d run home, thinking about the long, glorious summer months that lay ahead.  Sleeping late, swimming, bike riding, skating and watching cartoons with no responsibilities. It was awesome!  Yet with the blink of an eye, it would be time for school again.
The older I got, the faster time moved.  At college, school became a year-round task, measured by semesters and short breaks.  Summers were fun but definitely not care-free since I attended summer school each year.  A normal class load on steroids is not, by definition, fun.  Gone were the illusions that Christmas was light years away. 
When the lay-off hit, the first thing I thought of – aside from looking for work – is that I would finally get some time.  Time to do the things I’d been putting off, clean the closets, hit the gym, connect with old friends, finish at least a dozen projects that were in various stages of completion and of course, relax.  Others told me to be careful, that time moved slowly without work and that I’d get bored.  Something must be wrong with me because I’ve never been bored. During the first few months I was the busiest non-working person ever. Hubby and I joked that it’s hard to believe we ever had time to work with all the other stuff there was to do.  Time just flew by.
As I took on consulting gigs and assorted part-time work, once again time became a blessing and a curse.  Productivity went up the busier I became, yet personal satisfaction decreased as I was stretched so thin.  Gym work-outs became 15 minutes – if that – and personal goals were put on the back-burner.
The constant struggle to focus on career, look for a new job, and/or build a consulting business, make money in the meantime, and find time for family – that’s where I’m at now. 
To top it off, my one day each week that’s supposed to be dedicated to working on personal goals has become a fire-drill for the umpteen other things that I’m trying to juggle.  It’s hard to eliminate any of the items on my plate as they are all meant to help my career.  And it’s frustrating.
Maybe I should develop a time machine or other contraption that would slow things down, allow me to savor the moments.
Despite the time crunch, there are plenty of positives.  The good news is that I’m vertical.  And I’ve got options.  Too many options, but at least I’m engaged in the game of life.  I’m happy to have things to keep me busy, as I hear from others in the workforce that they are worried about their jobs as work slows down in this economy. I need to remember this when I get frustrated.
Yes, time is a funny thing.
© Tami Cannizzaro 2011 All Rights Reserved

Inspiring Greatness

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I don’t remember much about our first meeting, except that I was somewhat in awe.  Trying to stay “cool”, I spoke to him directly and honestly, answering his questions and posing questions to him. I didn’t really think much about it at the time.  A famous jewelry designer, we were opening one of his new stores and there was work to be done. 
Something struck a chord between us, this awe-inspiring gentleman and me.  I was amazed to meet the man who built a business from the ground up and designed the jewelry I was wearing.  Later he would tell me that he was impressed by my academic credentials and day job, wondering why I was working part-time at his store. 
Inspired by this meeting as well as my experience working at his store, I left a misaligned career in engineering (my day job) to pursue a graduate degree that would launch my second career as a retailer.    Mr. J and I somehow stayed in touch. Not sure if I reached out to him or if he reached out to me – doesn’t matter.  The point is, we remained in contact. I even worked in his store during breaks from grad school.
At graduation I was ecstatic to land my dream job, and of course Mr. J was cheering me on, almost as proud of me as my own parents.  I kept him updated on my achievements and career movement; periodically he would pick up the phone to check on me.  I loved getting those calls. 
It’s been years since our first meeting and I still love talking to Mr. J.
My architect Hubby enjoys visiting with him as much as I do, since Mr. J is a designer and has an interest in architecture.  He even had an interview with Frank Lloyd Wright when he was younger!  Oh, the stories Mr. J can tell.  We never cease to be amazed at all that he’s experienced and accomplished.
One of the biggest things that Mr. J has accomplished is inspiring people. Customers are more like groupies, all eager to tell employees when they first received one of his designs.  Most have never met him, but feel an emotional connection to him through his thoughtfully designed items.    
Mr. J doesn’t know it, but he inspires me every day.  He politely brushes it off when I tell him I owe the career that I love to him and his encouragement.  He doesn’t believe me when I tell him how his company was a pioneer in certain areas. I think my praise embarrasses him.  But it’s true.  And I’m not one to dole out unwarranted praise.
Whether he likes it or not, Mr. J is my “unofficial” mentor.  And I couldn’t ask for a better one.
I do wish that I’d understood the role of a mentor earlier in my career.  If so, I would have picked up the phone to Mr. J more often, asking his advice about certain career moves.   Maybe I would have made the same choices; maybe not.  But I haven’t taken advantage of his experience and knowledge like I should have. 
When I lost my job, I took a part-time job at the store where it all started. I called Mr. J to let him know.  He gave me a pep-talk, encouraging me, telling me I would be successful no matter what.  He connected me with corporate folks to discuss job opportunities. He shared ideas and thoughts as I considered working for myself.  Inspiration at its best.
I’ve got a chance to inspire those who are just embarking on their careers.  I’m actually a mentor now myself. Unlike Mr. J, I pro-actively took on this role.   Like Mr. J, I wonder why these younger people want to talk to me and if I have enough insight to help them.
One thing I know for sure: I hope to encourage and inspire people like he did for me.  Even if I’m not famous.
© Tami Cannizzaro 2011 All Rights Reserved