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.

 

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.

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.

The Age of Relevance

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Hands and phones

When it comes to hiring, it seems like there’s still a lot of discussion about age.  Perception is that younger candidates are being chosen over older more experienced ones. This leaves the older candidates perplexed, without work, wondering what happened.

Theories I’ve read include the obvious age discrimination, and that older workers are not competitive because they don’t know about all the new technology like their younger counterparts.

I’m calling B.S. here.

That’s a pretty bold declaration given that I have no data to back up my claim, nor do I have any data to disprove the things I’ve read.

Don’t get me wrong; I agree that age discrimination exists.  What I think is B.S. is the part about older workers not having current skills and not being of value anymore. 

Take my little coffee shop “Focus Group” that meets each week.  I call it a “Meeting of the Minds”; Hubby calls it the “Brain Trust”.  A group of gentleman, all at least partially retired, many of them in an age group north of 70.  I think it’s safe to say most are senior citizens.

Discussions are lively and cover a wide range of topics including politics, business, the economy, personal finance and how to fix things.  Computers and technology are always part of the equation.

As the youngest person and only female participant in the group, I consider it a privilege to be included. They tell me I’m their “center of gravity” and that I’m “smart”.  Flattery will get them everywhere.

Honestly, it’s these guys with the white hair that are smart.  I’m in awe of their business knowledge. I try to listen and learn from them.  One thing is certain: all of them are relevant and current, both with today’s technology and social media.

During a recent meeting, everyone had their cell phones on the table in case a call came in.  Probably from their stockbrokers, I guessed, given they all seem to have way more money than I’ll ever have.

All of a sudden one of the men announced, “Say hi to Tom”.  He had initiated a Google Hangout with a former group member who moved to another city.  Talk about being relevant!  That he even had a smart phone should have made him relevant enough.   Add the Hangout and he is like a geriatric rock star.

The point is that all of these people are much older than the average person trying to find work today.  All of them are current with technology and social media. And the added bonus is they have years of business experience that would make them an asset to a company.

Just so we’re all clear, none of these gentlemen had careers in computers or technology.

In my opinion, employers need to focus on relevance and a willingness to learn rather than age when it comes to hiring.  Combine that with years of work experience and it’s a triple threat that is hard to beat. Something that you certainly won’t get from a younger candidate.

Older job candidates, listen up!  This means work on your part too. Understand and participate in social media.  Be sure your LinkedIn profile is up to date, that you have a FaceBook account and that you at least know enough about Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, Tumblr, Google+, and other applications to carry on an intelligent conversation.

Staying relevant might mean taking a class to keep your work skills up to date.  In our area, the community college offers free or discounted classes to anyone over fifty.

Networking is a must.  Attend professional association meetings and read industry publications for current news – a great way to learn about new trends in your field.

Be relevant in both your attitude and appearance as well.  You’re as young as you feel, right?  Project that internal youthful energy in your voice and enthusiasm. It’s amazing how that will translate positively over the phone, in meetings and during interviews.

Will there still be age discrimination? Probably.  I can only control my behavior.  So I’m going to present the relevant, enthusiastic, younger person that I feel inside.  Even if I have to hire Ms. Clairol to cover my roots.

Olympians and Job Seekers Deserve Respect for Their Efforts

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We have been up late every night watching the Olympics.  I’m mesmerized by all the different sports and love watching them.  Most I understand or have at least some grasp.  Then there’s curling.  I think someone’s just pulled a practical joke on the rest of the world with that one.  Probably invented by some kids trying to get out of doing their chores, so they came up with a new use for a broom.

Of course if you grew up in the north where everything is frozen for nine months of the year, I guess we can’t really blame people for trying anything to beat boredom.

Something that has really caught my attention this year is the play by play.  Is it just me or are the announcers hyper-critical of these incredible athletes?

Take snowboarding, for example.

“Well here comes the current world champ. He’s trying but I’m not sure if he can do it.  He’s older than the new kids coming up.  He can’t make any mistakes on this.  He has to do the triple Quasimodo with a twist.  I hear he’s been practicing carrying his grandmother.  Is he going to do it?  He looks shaky. He hasn’t had good practice runs. He’s too old.”

“Look! He’s got his grandmother on his shoulders! Can he do it? It’s doubtful.  I don’t know – YES! He did it, but it wasn’t great.  Grandma isn’t looking too happy either.  Not sure that this was his best effort; he can do better. “

Really?

These people have been training their entire lives for one moment to shine.  One moment.  They know if they’ve made a mistake in front of the entire world. While they’ve been conditioned to receive critiques, they don’t need anyone at this final moment – especially arm-chair quarterbacks – telling them they could do better.  Surely we could be a little more supportive.

Thank goodness job interviewing doesn’t warrant the same type of critical play-by-play coverage.  I can only imagine the added stress of having strangers, who have no say in the hiring process, evaluating my performance.

“Here she comes into the interview Bob.  She dressed well; looks like she has a new outfit.  Oh no! Wait – are those last years’ pumps?”  

“Yes, Cindy, I think they are.  That will be a deduction, although they may be lenient since she is wearing lipstick and her manicure looks good.  She does look a bit nervous.  Do you see how she’s holding her bag?  

“Here comes the handshake; she reaches out first and – yes! It looks like a solid handshake. There should be points added here. ”

“She’s maintaining eye contact.  Body language seems good.  Interviewer is leaning forward; oh no! He’s asking a surprise question!  What will she do?  Can she pull it off? I’ve never seen this done so early in the interview process, Bob!

“She’s pausing – definitely not a good sign.  Taking a drink of water – clearly she’s buying time. Wait a minute; she’s answering! I think she’s got it! She answered the surprise question, but I’m not sure it was her best effort, Cindy.”

“I agree Bob.  We’ll have to see what the interviewer says.  She may be disappointed in the outcome of this interview.”

Wouldn’t that be awful?  How about a little love from the adoring fans?

True, I haven’t trained like an Olympian for an interview, working my entire life for one moment.  Nor have I been conditioned to hear scathing critiques of my every move. Yet I have researched the company, prepared my questions and practiced my answers.  I’m ready to provide a two-minute summary that describes who I am and sounds conversational rather than memorized.  I’m aware that presentation is everything, so my outfit is chosen carefully and I remind myself of posture, eye contact and handshake.

Whether we are training for  the Olympics or simply preparing for a job interview, the key word here is respect.   Both events are moments for us to shine and do our best. And we’d all like a little support for our efforts, no matter what the outcome.

I may not receive a medal with my job offer, but that’s okay.  Sure beats listening to a hyper-critical play-by-play of my interview performance.

Glory Days

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yearbook pic

In a fit of cleaning I came across my high school yearbook.  Of course I had to take a minute to flip through the pages, looking at the pictures and reading the comments written by friends.

“Stay cool!”, “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you”, “Looking forward to all the parties you are going to throw at college”.   Just reading the comments and seeing our crazy hair-do’s made me smile.

Those were good times; much easier than now when we have mortgages and kids and a million other responsibilities.

They say you can never go back.  In many ways that’s true.  Try as I might, I can’t turn back the hands of time.   Of course I technically can and do go back.  I live near my high school, and each year I make several trips to my college town for football games and board meetings.

But that’s not what I’m talking about.  I’m talking about living in the past, fixated on those moments that can most accurately be claimed as “glory days”. 

Lucky for me, the only reason I would want to go backwards is to revel in my ultra-skinny high school self or to truly appreciate my beautiful black hair, before I met Miss Clairol.  And to figure out why someone thought I was “cool” when I thought I was a semi-nerd.

Don’t get me wrong; I enjoyed high school, and college made a huge impact on my life. Thanks to social media I am connected with many of my friends from so long ago.  But I don’t live there anymore, and that’s good.  No regrets.

I know people who live back there, in the past, trying to relive the “glory days”.  Instead of focusing on what they can do now, they seem to go back to the days of football games, homecoming, proms and parties in an attempt to live at what they think was the pinnacle of life.

Maybe it was a great time.  Yet I don’t want to be so focused on the past that I miss the present.

Glory days happen in the business world too.  I had the opportunity to work at a great company full of smart, passionate, engaging people.  We worked hard and played hard.  Business could be tough, but we were a team, united to achieve our goal.

Times changed, business changed and layoffs happened.  Our team clung together as long as we could but in the end we found different employment and we have all moved on to new experiences.

Every once in a while I’ll read a comment on social media about the “good times” and I start reminiscing too much as the song “Glory Days” rocks in my head.   Even though I know I’m looking at the past through rose-colored glasses, I can feel myself wishing to be back there for just a few minutes.

Yes, those were great times that we had.  In some ways I wish we could get them back.  On the other hand, most of us have moved on and are doing well.  While I miss the people, I know I’m in a good place and am happy with the new opportunities that have come my way.

We can’t go back.  Even if we could, it wouldn’t be good for us.  But I sure wish I could fit into my high-school sized jeans.

The Sport of Shopping

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vera bag

“Listen to this”, I said to Hubby while reading the Sunday paper at our favorite coffee spot.  The article listed a number of unusual interview questions that candidates had reported answering.  I started reading the list out loud to Hubby.  “What three things would you take to a desert island?”  “If you had to describe yourself as a breakfast cereal, what kind would you be?” and “Are you a hunter or a gatherer?”

“Well, at least the last one’s easy! “ I said.  “I’m a hunter.”

Hubby let out a loud snort.  “Since when? You practically wrote the definition of gatherer! ”

I’ve been told this hunter-gatherer comparison goes back to prehistoric times, when it was the cave man’s business to hunt and the cave woman’s business to gather – or something like that.  In today’s world, a gatherer is the last thing a business woman wants to be called.

Shocked at this blatant disrespect for my keen business acumen, of course I became defensive.  My insides were screaming, my stilettos were stomping as if to say, “I am too a hunter!” But I tried to stay poised and focused.

Instead, I started listing the reasons why I’m a hunter.  That’s what we hunter’s do, right?  We stay calm. We identify the problem, quickly outline solutions and make a decision.  Ready, aim, fire!

Hubby tried to soothe me.  “I agree that you’re a good businessperson; I’m just saying that you like to gather all the information first.  Just like you do when you go shopping; you want to make sure you’ve seen all the options before making a purchase decision. That’s why I can go to the grocery store much more quickly and efficiently than you can,” he smiled, and went back to reading the sports.

Shopping is my forte – talk about being an expert!  If shopping were an Olympic sport I’d have at least one gold medal. We sat in silence, although I’m not sure Hubby was aware of the storm brewing.

Determined to prove him wrong, I volunteered to go to Sam’s for our weekly shopping.   While it wasn’t a business situation, I was determined to show him that I was indeed a hunter.  Chicken, toilet paper and dog treats; I estimated in and out in fifteen minutes, even if I stopped to taste the food samples along the way.

Arriving at the store sans Hubby, I started out quickly, heading towards the chicken when something colorful down a side aisle caught my eye. Several women were gathered around.   My cart veered toward the colors before I knew what happened.

It was an awesome “special purchase” of designer tote bags, one of those rare finds that required quick action or they would be gone before you knew it.  Quickly determining the best colors, I snatched two for my cart and left the melee that was ensuing, figuring I could find a calmer aisle to choose a color.

I decided to keep moving while pondering the colors, and in a moment of shopping brilliance I pulled out my smart phone.  Suddenly I was “Super Gatherer”, scouring different sites for information and offers on the same tote bag.  Up and down the aisles I went, comparing offers and available colors, the sample ladies fueling me with snacks along the way.

Hubby called, wondering where I was.  “You’re still at the store?” he exclaimed. “What happened? Are you okay?”  

Kind of hard to explain that I’m a hunter, not a gatherer, when I had spent the past forty-five minutes roaming the store with two tote bags in my cart, eating free snacks, while I surfed the web for a better deal on the same item.

It was the snacks, I tell you!  They are evil.

Making my decision, I quickly checked out and headed for home, pulling into the garage at the same time as Hubby.

“Show me this special tote bag”, he said, knowing better than to say anything about the time spent.

“It’s the perfect color”, I gushed.  “You’ll love it when it gets here this week – I decided to order one in a different color online.”

Hubby shook his head and went inside.  In his “hunter” world, he would have seen the item, decided it was a good value, selected a color from those available, paid for the item and left the store.

Well, all I’ve got to say is there’s not much sport in that now, is there?

Why Is It So Difficult To Simplify?

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When I welcomed 2014, I stated that this was going to be my year to “simplify”.  Everything from de-cluttering my desk, learning to eat better, to simplifying my job search – making things simple would be my focus.

Hubby doesn’t think the word “simplify” is in my vocabulary, saying I have a slight tendency to complicate matters.  I disagree.  It’s just that he and I look at something and see it very differently.

When he says, “Let’s run to the grocery store”, he sees a quick trip to pick up groceries.  I see a multi-step process that includes an inventory of the pantry and refrigerator, making a list and checking recipes for ingredients that need to be included on the list, and visits to three different stores.  Hardly a simple task if you ask me.

Hubby is guilty of complicating things too.  When we were newlyweds, Hubby volunteered to clean the bathrooms in our apartment while I tackled the kitchen, the dusting and the vacuuming.   I had finished my chores and went to check on his progress, figuring he’d be taking a nap.

To say he took scrubbing seriously is an understatement.  Standing in the tub in his tighty-whities, the bathroom shone.  But he hadn’t finished one bathroom in the time it took me to clean the rest of the apartment.  Talk about over-complicating something – we didn’t have to eat in there; just shower!

So here I am in now 2014 trying to simplify – and it seems like I’m failing miserably.  My desk remained clean for a day; now a pile of stuff has mysteriously appeared.   What’s up with that?

Simplify – it’s one stinkin’ word!  I have an MBA and years of experience. Why can’t I make any progress?

So I decided to do something about it.  I made a “To Do List”.

It’s beautiful.  It’s organized. It should be laminated.  Yet it’s so long that it certainly doesn’t look very “simple”.

On the top of this lengthy list: Fix our high-tech tank-less water heater, which started intermittently shutting off.  There is nothing like enjoying a steaming hot shower with your hair full of suds, only to have the spa-like sensation ruined by an arctic blast of icy water.

When this happens, whoever is in the cold shower has to run across the house naked and dripping wet to pull the attic stair down, climb the stair and reset the water heater. This usually involves lots of cursing.  The dog runs along too, thinking this is some sort of new game.

Determined to tackle The List and simplify our morning routine – and because I was tired of being a human Popsicle – I did what I thought was the right thing: called the plumber.  After all, I’m a smart, educated, career woman, but I don’t have plumbing skills. 

Perhaps I should have plumbing skills.  After about an hour of the plumber’s time and my checkbook ringing up dollar signs, the plumber asked if I had called the equipment manufacturer.

Uh, no; I’m smart – I’m simplifying things, so I called you.  Apparently I’m not as smart as I thought.

In my haste to simplify, I complicated my problem by failing to do a quick internet search which revealed a customer hotline with online chat.  How much simpler – and cheaper – can it get?

The plumber spent about an hour on the phone with the manufacturer, pressing buttons and running diagnostics; all things I could have done myself.   After he left, I consulted with a neighbor who had similar experience with his water heater.  And as luck – or fate, or karma, or whatever – would have it, the problem is not so simple to fix.  It has to do with weather and gas pressure and temperature differentials.

Hubby came home and I was happy to report that I had tackled one of the items on The List. I was proud to share my new-found knowledge of our water heater, recommending that we take our neighbors’ advice rather than spend more money with the plumber.

The good news: I’ve crossed one thing off The List that will simplify our morning routine.  The bad news:  Looks like there are about 100 more things to on the list.

I guess simplifying things is just complicated.

Holiday Temptations

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peppermints

Growing up, we had a strict Rule when it came to sweets in our house: they were only allowed on Sundays.  That’s right; no candy, gum, cookies, cake or dessert of any kind except on Sunday.  Special occasions such as birthdays and holidays were exempt from the Rule; Sis and I lived for these days.

While the Rule was harsh, our parents had taken the dentists’ recommendation to heart that sugary sweets were a “no-no” and the Rule was meant to “save” our teeth from cavities. By limiting temptation, they reasoned, we would forever refrain from candy and other bad foods and end up with pristine, perfect teeth.

Ha! One look inside my mouth and you’ll be blinded by the amount of silver fillings, so that plan didn’t really work out well.

Although my parents tried; really they did.  When I was three, mom dressed me for Halloween yet neglected to tell me about Trick-or-Treating.  Instead, she had me pass out the treats when other kids came to the door, for fear I would be tempted to eat candy if I had been allowed to experience Trick-or-Treating myself.

As we got older, Sis and I looked forward to Sundays as if Christmas came each week.  That was the day we could take some of our allowance and buy candy to eat for the day.  It was so fun to pick out what we wanted, rationing it throughout the day to make it last.  We’d savor every bite as if we would never have a treat again.

The good news is while I do appreciate a good cookie, ice cream and other treats, I can literally ignore sweets unless I really want something.  Unlike Hubby, who hears treats calling his name in the middle of the night from the pantry.  He makes fun of me and my ice-cream eating record:  one time I got 19 servings out of a pint of ice-cream.

I know you’re thinking I must be the Queen of Resisting Holiday Temptations, huh?

Nope.  There’s something about the holiday season that sends all of my willpower right out the door.

For some reason I feel like it’s okay to succumb to temptation during the holidays, and all sorts of strange reasoning comes into play. I crave the Peppermint Mocha coffee at Starbucks; these are okay to drink because I need to stay warm during the cold weather.  Tins of holiday popcorn and cookies have a magnetic pull; popcorn is actually “corn” and those cookies are so small the calories don’t really count.   And don’t get me started on the assortment of dips that seem to appear at the office; I’m sure these are nutritious because we use carrots for dipping.

Shopping is another temptation.  While I always enjoy the sport of shopping, usually I can spend time in the stores without spending, simply enjoying the activity of looking.  But not during the holidays.  There must be subliminal messaging in the Christmas music that’s piped into every store.  As I’m shopping for gifts, the sales compel me to adopt a “One for them, one for me” mentality.  The “spirit of giving” takes over and I decide to give to myself as well as others.  Strange reasoning comes into play here too: the prices are too good to pass up and I convince myself I’m buying things I need anyway.

A huge temptation for me during the holidays is to slack-off.  The closer we get to Christmas and New Year’s, the less I feel like working.  This could be a leftover imprint from my younger years when we all had a nice break from school.  Those kind of things are hard to forget, you know.

Or since we take vacation once a year in the early summer, could it be that my mind is just ready for another break?  No, it’s got to be something more sinister than that; it’s that holiday music and spiked popcorn, I tell you!

For those in the job market, there’s an even bigger temptation: to stop looking for a job.  On the one hand, it seems like a good idea as we rationalize “Hiring managers are on vacation” and “Companies will be more serious about hiring at the first of the year”.

From what I’ve seen this year I think we are fooling ourselves and succumbing to holiday temptation.

First, there appears to be more job listings – great news for anyone who is looking for an opportunity.  Second, my guess is that companies want to interview now in order to be ready with new hires at the beginning of the year.  We at least need to submit our application so the company knows we are interested.  Besides, if others are tempted to stop looking, then we stand a better chance of getting noticed.

It’s easy to give-in to temptation and stop searching for a job as we get closer to the holidays.  I get it; really I do.  Yet try to stay with it until Santa takes off from the North Pole.  It will be a happier holiday and a brighter New Year if you do.

 

Iceapocalypse ’13: Things To Have In An Ice Storm

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Ice 2

Hello from the frozen tundra formerly known as Texas!  It’s been difficult to focus on anything for the past week except “Iceapocalypse 2013” or “Iceageddon”, as many are calling it.   With local news teams reminding us 24/7 that everything is covered in ice (duh; take one look outside) I haven’t felt much like writing about careers.

Not to mention that we have been freezing inside the house, despite the new thermal windows installed last year.  I guess my idea of “thermal” is different than what was stated in the sales brochure.

Hubby and I found we were not prepared for this weather, or at least as prepared as we should have been.  So I thought I’d share a few things we need to have for the next Iceapocalypse, in case you want to take notes for your own global-warming/cooling event:

An exit plan – This includes shovels that are bigger than a garden hoe, so you can chop a path through the ice for you and/or your car.  Do you know how long it takes to chop ice with a spade?  We do!  And trust us, it’s an aerobic activity you don’t want to do.

A working fireplace – Used to have one of these.  During the last remodel we decided to upgrade the existing gas fireplace, then changed our mind and spent the money on something else.  Problem with that plan is that we removed the faux logs and other parts needed to have a working fireplace, thinking that we would fix it eventually.  So it’s still unusable. That’s a call we’ve got to make this week.

Food – This is important, so listen up!  You must have food that can be eaten without being cooked – lots of bread, cereal, milk, salad fixings, etc. would be great to have on hand.  Especially if the power goes out, and you have no gas fireplace to even try to heat something.

Flashlights – Oh we had flashlights; it’s just that the batteries were dead. In all 12 flashlights.  Thank goodness for the flashlight app on our iPhones.

Sense of humor – Remember to keep this close at hand. After being stuck in the house with no outside contact for a few days, maintaining a sense of humor is huge.

DVD’s, books, board games – Anything is better than the 24-hour coverage from a first year newscaster stating the obvious, “the weather is bad” while standing on a frozen bridge dodging siding cars.

List of “rainy day” projects – Being stuck inside is a great time to tackle any project on this list.  That is, if you can pry yourself off the couch.  Why is it that the couch seems so much more comfortable when the weather is bad?  In our defense, we made use of our time by setting up TV trays and addressing our Christmas cards – while we sat on the couch.

Stuff that you don’t think you’ll need – This includes sand, kitty litter or rock salt to help with the exit plan; possibly a generator if you live in an area prone to power outages; an assortment of winter clothing that you’ll barely wear otherwise.  I’m thinking golf shoes with metal cleats or something similar would have helped here.  My Ugg’s are fashionable and warm but without traction I still found myself on the ground as soon as I stepped onto the frozen front yard.

Chocolate – Duh. This is a no-brainer, and probably the most important item on the list. Not only is it a food item, if it melts it can be a drink and it doubles as a stress-reliever.

I hope you find this list helpful.  I’m printing it and mounting it in a frame to hang on the wall with a little red hammer.  The small sign will say, “In case of ice, break glass”.