Vacation!

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Polihale Beach on Kauai, Hawaii

It’s been a long, stressful week that included a family emergency.  Good news is, everyone is doing well.  Bad news is that it was not conducive to writing.  Since I feel like I need a vacation, I’m running an “oldie but goodie” for your enjoyment. 

Ahhh…vacation!  The time to get away from it all. To refresh and re-energize.  Yep, I’m one of “those” people, the kind who believes in taking a true vacation to get away from everything for a week or so.  No checking email, no calling the office.  I tell the people I work with, “If the building burns, save yourself and tell me about it when I get back”.  No sense telling me when I’m not there to do anything about it.

Never have understood the concept of a “working vacation” either – isn’t that an oxymoron?  If I’m going to spend the money for a vacation I want to enjoy it – sans work.

Funny thing is that my family didn’t really take vacations.  A couple times we accompanied dad on a business trip to Florida; along the way we’d wait for him in the car or at a restaurant while he called on clients, eventually ending up at the beach for a couple days.  Every few years Sis and I would go to Grandma’s in Minnesota, but that was it.  No weekends at the lake, no ski vacations, no trips just for fun.

I learned about the beauty of a vacation after business school, when I had friends living in other cities.  Those friends would say, “Come visit sometime” – and whether they meant it or not, I took them up on the offer.  (Note to all of you: if you say “come visit”, know that at some point I will do just that)

It wasn’t always easy for me to take a vacation.  I was (and sometimes still am) plagued by worries: what if something “big” happens while I’m gone? What if someone needs me? What if, what if, what if?

Early on I had a great boss who heard me lamenting the “what ifs” and wisely told me, “There is NOTHING that will happen in your absence that we can’t fix when you get back”.   Logic told me she was right and I’ve tried to remember that ever since.

Last week was it – vacation time!  An entire week of fun at our favorite resort with no work in sight, and it was beyond great.  Vacation Brain kicked in for both Hubby and I as soon as we left for the airport, a definite signal that it was time to relax. We read, talked, swam, lounged and were generally lazy.  Work Brain was nowhere to be seen, as it should be during vacation.

As with all good things, our trip came to an end far too soon and my Vacation Brain reluctantly started powering down while my Work Brain tried to wake from a nice nap.  At the airport, Work Brain said it would be a good idea to download my emails so I could at least scan them on the plane.  Sounded logical, so I tried to log-on.  Note I said “tried” – for the life of me I couldn’t remember my log-in info.  Vacation Brain clearly was still in command.  After some time, I finally remembered and logged in – a small victory for Work Brain.

Hubby was having difficulty too.  Wanting to initiate a call with a co-worker, he started to send an email with his cell phone number – but Vacation Brain forbade him from remembering his own number. Work Brain, unfortunately, reminded him that I had his phone number in my phone.

Once I was online, Work Brain commanded that I look at my in-box. Yikes – how could one person have that many emails in just a week?  My mind raced as Vacation Brain was desperate to keep me in resort mode.  Looking at the subject lines, I tried to recall what I was working on when I left town.

My mind was sputtering, with a vague memory of some projects but not enough for the emails to make complete sense.  And who ARE all these people, wanting answers from me?  Do I work with them?  I could feel the tension in my head as Work Brain fought to recover information from a week ago, while Vacation Brain attempted to keep all that information hidden.

Back and forth, the battle for control raged in my head as I read the emails, trying to make sense of it all.  Once the plane landed, Work Brain started a victory dance, knowing that as soon as we exited the jet way Vacation Brain was history.

Sigh. Why is it always like this? Within seconds of returning from vacation, it’s as though we never left at all.  I enjoy my work but I really do cherish the little bit of vacation I take and I would love for the feeling to last longer than a nanosecond.

Good news is the office didn’t burn.  At least I don’t think it did.

If My Alarm Clock Is The Key To Success, I May As Well Go Back To Bed

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Alarm clock

I’m a night-owl by nature.  My body clock is set so that I get a natural rush of energy in the late afternoon.  When most of my coworkers are winding down, I’m revving up to crank out the work.  This happens again around 9 pm. If I’m not careful, I can easily be up until midnight or later.

Hubby is programmed the same way.  The good news is that our wake/sleep schedules are compatible. The bad news is that our snooze alarms go off for at least an hour in the morning.  Prying us out of bed is next to impossible.  The dog has given up on ever getting her breakfast at a decent hour.

We’ve tried everything to switch our body clocks but have come to the realization that we are night people.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Except Forbes just wrote a piece that basically says to be super successful one has to be an early riser, stating that morning people have been found to be more productive and proactive than those of us who prefer to work in the evening.

According to the article, this is a common trait among CEO’s, government officials and other influential people.  Examples of successful early risers include Margaret Thatcher, Frank Lloyd Wright and Disney CEO Roger Iger.

Well, I can explain these three: Margaret Thatcher lived in London where the weather is all sorts of gloomy.  If she wanted to see the sun she probably had to watch it rise.  Frank Lloyd Wright was living outside at his various Taliesin sites, communing with nature to create the perfect building.  And Roger Iger has to be up; he’s got all those kids and parents pounding at the park gates to get in to the rides.

To entice us to be more successful, Forbes lists 5 things super successful people do before 8 am.  I’m here to tell you why this will not work.

EXERCISE

Forbes says: Exercising before work gives you a boost of energy for the day and that deserved sense of accomplishment. Anyone can tackle a pile of paperwork after 200 ab reps! Morning workouts also eliminate the possibility of flaking out on your cardio after a long day at work.

I Say: First, it’s difficult and dangerous to exercise when you are still asleep.  Treadmills and weights require a certain amount of attention.  Besides, my hair looks terrible and I smell bad in the morning.  The only sense of accomplishment I get from a morning workout is that I get to pick up a cappuccino and donut on the way home, negating the positive effect of the workout. So you can see why exercising in the morning is a bad idea.

MAP OUT YOUR DAY

Forbes says: Basically what they mean is to get your to-do list and thoughts in order during the quiet time before others are up and at the office.  With uninterrupted time, you can also solve some problems.  They also suggest planning a 10 minute break in your schedule to walk around the block or meditate during the day.

I say:  So I’m supposed to sleep peacefully trying to remember the stuff to put on my to-do list in the morning? Sounds like a nightmare to me. Better to scribble to-dos on a Post-It and stick on my computer before leaving the office.  Ever try meditating at work? Especially in a cubicle?  The stares from co-workers and comments like, “Is she alive?” are not conducive to becoming one with the office and at peace with that nasty to-do list.

EAT A HEALTHY BREAKFAST

Forbes says: Take extra time in the morning to fuel your body for the tasks ahead of it. It will help keep your mind on what’s at hand and not your growling stomach.

I say: Would love to have time for this, Forbes.  I’ll get back to you when I get a personal chef to cook for me.  Right now I’ll have to stick with to-go items like granola bars and coffee in a travel mug, or if I’m lucky a piece of toast.  Even the dog is happy if I just remember to throw some kibble in her bowl.

VISUALIZATION

Forbes says: Take a moment to visualize your day ahead of you, focusing on the successes you will have. Even just a minute of visualization and positive thinking can help improve your mood and outlook on your work load for the day.

I say: I’ve nailed this one.  In fact, I’m visualizing my day right now.  It’s going to be crazy busy, with the phones ringing off the hook, an in-box with 100 emails and a series of unplanned meetings that rip my to-do list out of my hands.  Somehow this visualization exercise has not improved my mood.  Duh.

MAKE YOUR DAY TOP HEAVY

Forbes says: Here’s an easy tip to save yourself the stress – do that least desirable task on your list first. …. The morning is the time when you are (generally) more well-rested and your energy level is up. Therefore, you are more well-equipped to handle more difficult projects. And look at it this way, your day will get progressively easier, not the other way around. By the time your work day is ending, you’re winding down with easier to dos and heading into your free time more relaxed. Success!

I Say:  Here’s a better idea: let’s just forget about that least desirable task altogether, shall we? First thing in the morning I haven’t had enough coffee yet to read the paper much less handle anything important and undesirable.  Besides, my entire day is heavy.  Sweeping that task under the rug isn’t going to hurt anyone, is it?  Out of sight and out of mind equals success, right?

I certainly respect Forbes’ POV on this subject.  But I’m sure you agree that my way is better.

If U Cn Rd This Msg U R Old

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I was just told by a team member that I’m old.   Not in so many words, but the underlying message was there. No doubt about it.

It happened during an IM-Skype conversation at work, which seems ridiculous to me since we sit about ten feet away.  Not sure why we Skype instead of walking over to chat in person.  It’s the culture of the organization and of course I want to fit in, so I Skype away like everyone else.

Something of importance to this story is that I happen to be a bit more “mature” than many of the employees, and definitely older than this team member.

This particular conversation was nothing special; a mixture of work and side comments when suddenly it turned on me.  She had misspelled a word and was trying to explain herself.  I’ll let you take a look:

Her – oops; im terrible at typing

Me – typing or spelling?

Her – it’s because Im too dependent on spell check

Me – you youngsters! How about a dictionary?

Her – I know; it’s pathetic

To which I typed a humorous response in what I thought was “IM-approved” lingo:

“u r rt, oldr peeps r so annoying”

Her reply?

“Ha! My aunt texts like that – it’s hilarious!”

What?!  Did she just call me out as being “uncool”?  I think it’s worse than that; she thinks I’m old!

Augh!  I don’t want to be hilarious like her aunt, who’s got to be way older than I am.  More importantly, I don’t want to appear “old”.  Hmph.  Just when I think I’ve become an accepted member of the team, and now they think I’m old.

But I can’t be that old.  Not only am I on Skype but my Twitter feed is pinging away with new followers and my latest Pinterest board is on fire. Geez.

If the ability to spell without spellcheck makes me old, then I guess I am. I just never realized that spelling was “old school”.

Bt u cn rd this txt, cnt u?

Ha! You’re old too.

It’s OK to Take a Break

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Not sure where the time goes.  Suddenly I realized it was time for my twice yearly girls’ weekend, when we all go to a B&B for a few days of crafting, eating, talking, eating, watching chick flicks and – you guessed it –  more eating. These weekends are a great chance to reconnect with good friends who I rarely get to see due to our schedules and distance.

Yet this time, instead of looking forward to the weekend, I found myself frustrated and regretting my decision to attend.  It had nothing to do with seeing my friends.  It was all about my to-do list that was at least a mile long and growing.  In addition, I had no idea what creative project I was going to work on.

Usually I’m eager to pull out my scrapbooking stuff and work on a vacation album.  Not this time.  Disorganized, I hadn’t touched my stuff since the last girls’ weekend six months earlier.  I’d been so busy with work, speaking engagements, volunteering and family, it felt like the energy and creativity had literally been sucked out of me.

I contemplated not going.  I considered bringing my laptop instead of my scrapbooks so I could work on my writing.  I wondered if I could simply hide in one of the bedrooms and catch up on much-needed sleep.  Mostly I just wanted to stay home, convinced that this was the worst possible time for me to leave.

How would I get my writing done?  What would I put in a scrapbook?  Would I even have anything fun to talk about with my friends? 

“But you always love to go,” said Hubby.  “Think of the fun you’ll have once you are there.”  Easy for you to say, I thought to myself as I reluctantly packed my things.  My only thought was that I was wasting valuable time I could spend at my computer.

To be completely honest, recently I had begun to feel like my work and writing was suffering.  Maybe it was just too much to do; maybe I had “lost my touch”.  It even crossed my mind that maybe I had become lazy.  Whatever was happening to me, it seemed like a really bad time for me to attend a girls’ weekend of fun.

Or was it?

I had plenty of time to think about this in the car.  Maybe Hubby was right, I thought.  I remembered that I took a break from the job search when I was laid-off, and it turned out to be the right move. Perhaps this situation was similar; maybe I needed a break from everything for a couple days to spend quality creative time with my friends.  I slowly started to relax.

Upon arrival I was greeted by smiles and laughter as my friends all gathered around.  Shoes were replaced by comfortable slippers as we all talked at once, trying to catch up.  Paper, paste, photographs, stickers and all sorts of creativity began as we plugged in the first of many chick flicks.  Food and drinks were abundant, truly the sign of a great gathering.

It took me a bit to shake the creative cobwebs from my head but I managed to get my photos organized and a new scrapbook started.  I enjoyed visiting with my friends and realized how much I value their friendship.

My scrapbook didn’t get finished, although that’s not important.  What matters is that I took a break – mentally and physically – from my normal routine.  Something I should do more often.  The computer, work and everything else can wait.

Remember this story if you find yourself on-edge during a job search.  Sometimes a break – even a short one – can put us back on track.

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.

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!

Stretchy Pants – They’re Not Just for Women Anymore

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My first job out of grad school was working in the buying office of a major fashion retailer.  “Dressing for Success” took on a whole new meaning since it was expected that we would wear the clothes, look the part, walk-the-walk and talk-the-talk.  Every day was a fashion show at work, with everyone dressed in their finest. No such thing as wearing out-dated fashions; only the newest styles would do. This was a great environment for a fashionista like me, a natural-born shopper who always wanted (and still wants) to wear the latest trends.

At the time, the biggest challenge was having the money to purchase said trends.  After all, I had student loans and a car payment on top of normal living expenses, and my salary didn’t exactly match the price tags on the clothes.  Somehow I made it work and enjoyed strutting my stuff down the halls of the office as though I were on a fashion show catwalk.  Never mind that at the towering height of 5’2” I wasn’t anywhere close to being a model, at least I could pretend by wearing designer clothes.

Several companies later and my interest in wearing the latest fashions at work has calmed a bit.  Especially with the trend towards “business casual”, although I still haven’t quite figured out what that really means. I think it’s a secret code for “wear whatever you want”.  Even though I have become accustomed to “business casual”, I have always tried to be fashion-forward.

Then the lay-off hit and I began consulting, which meant working from home.  No longer would anyone see me strut my stuff at work.  Just the dog, and quite honestly, the only interest she’s ever shown in my clothing is to try and shed as much as possible on me.  In her mind, no outfit is complete unless it is accessorized by dog hair.

Because of the layoff I discovered what many of you who work from home already knew: it doesn’t matter what you wear at home.  Jeans, gym clothes – even PJ’s – make the cut.  Unless you’re on a video Skype, there’s no reason NOT to be comfortable.  And for many of us, that means stretchy pants.  Women have known since the ‘80’s that stretchy pants may not always make a fashion statement but at least they are comfortable.  We’ve always had this as “our little secret”, something only for girls.

Boy was I surprised to recently find out that our little secret is out, ladies.  Guys apparently have stretchy pants too, and are not afraid to admit it.  This was recently revealed to me by a male colleague who freely stated that working at home was great because he could be comfortable in his stretchy pants.  After I stopped laughing, I realized he was serious.

Let me stop you before you start pinging me with comments like, “He’s probably over-weight, older, not fashion conscious and still single”.  You would be correct only in that he’s single, but I’m pretty sure that’s by choice.  This colleague is handsome, twenty-something and not a pound over-weight.  At least from what I can tell; I try not to stare too much.  He’s a new colleague and I don’t want to appear too “Mrs. Robinson”, not to mention that Hubby is my prince charming.  I’m only interested in this because I didn’t think young, hip guys knew about stretchy pants.

In all fairness to my new colleague, Hubby has his version of stretchy pants which he has dubbed, “sit-around-naked-pants” – meaning they are so comfortable it’s like wearing nothing at all, which he would never do because that would be just wrong or creepy.  Not in a fifty-shades kind of way, but, you know what I mean.  Sigh…Hubby is not going to like this post.

All this to say that whether you’ve been laid-off and are looking for work, or simply working from the comfort of your home office, one of the benefits is  wearing what you want without worrying about putting on a fashion show.

Stretchy pants – they’re not just for women anymore.

If Elected as Your Boss, I Promise To…

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It’s Election Day – FINALLY!  I, for one, will be thrilled when the campaigning ends and we can get back to what’s really important in TV land: dancing, singing and real housewives.  I mean really, with all of this campaigning there’s been almost zero news about the Kardashian’s lately.  Surely there’s some new scandal in their lives. 

For the last however many months, all we’ve heard is mostly polite arguing, with each side trying to prove the other wrong.  And don’t get me started on the debates.  Hubby and I tried to take notes as we listened and watched, hoping to see a real strategy, with clear objectives and defined tactics that could be executed as soon as the inauguration takes place.   I know, I know.  That would be a miracle.  It seems like we elect people who are the least offensive, but not necessarily the best.  Some sort of cynicism must set in since we’ve heard the promises before, and know that the elected party doesn’t always make good on those promises.

All this campaigning and promise-making got me to thinking: what would happen if we could elect our bosses at work?  What if they had to be accountable to us, outlining their strategic plans, objectives and tactics, knowing full-well that if they didn’t deliver as promised we, the employees, not the board of directors, might vote them out at the next election?  Sounds interesting to me.

I can see it now: signs would be plastered all over the conference rooms, the elevators, the break room and cafeteria.  HR would have to step in to control the amount of buttons and other campaign materials handed out at the office.  No work would get done as lobbying for votes would be in full-effect, with each boss candidate promising more than the other.  One would offer higher salaries, the other would offer more vacation time.  Both would offer shorter work weeks as well as the privilege of wearing shorts and flip-flops to the office.  I imagine a campaign speech to go something like this:

Trust me with your vote – I’ve been in your flip-flops! The customers are cranky, the hours are long and I feel your pain! The office space is cramped, the conference rooms are few and the air is either too hot or too cold.  I know what it’s like to be working at a low-level, without an opportunity to rise to the top.  OK, maybe I haven’t actually been in your flip-flops because as a boss I don’t wear those, but I know someone who knows someone that’s been there.  Anyway, if elected as your boss, I promise to remove the cranky customers and reduce your working hours.  Well, maybe I’ll just have a nice chat with the customers; after all we need them, even if they are cranky. And I promise to at least pretend to look into reducing work hours.  More importantly, no more generic coffee in the break rooms! I’ll hire trained baristas to make fancy coffee drinks for your enjoyment.  Actually, maybe the entire department can be cross-trained as baristas, with each of you taking a different day of the week to make the coffee drinks.  See? I’ve already improved working conditions by adding barista experience to your resume!  Each employee will get a personal fan and space heater to control air temperature.  You may work long hours, but at least you’ll have control over your cubicle temperature.  See, I know how to make your work life better.  Trust me!

After all the speeches were said and the campaigning done, we’d get to vote for the person we’d prefer to have as our boss for the next couple of years.  And if that person didn’t keep his or her campaign promises, we would have the luxury of letting them know we will not re-elect them as boss next time around.  Wow – I can feel the power already!  But really, do I want to have to do this all the time? 

All kidding aside, I take voting for elected officials – especially the President – very seriously. So does Hubby. We stood in line with about a hundred others during early voting, to make sure our voices were heard.  With all the mud-slinging – I mean, campaigning – going on, sometimes you wonder if it’s worth the effort.  Having been to countries dominated by men, where you have to dip your finger in ink to vote, Hubby and I know that this is a privilege that too few in the world are granted.

I hope you take a moment today and vote, if you haven’t already.  It’s worth the time.

Don’t Be Distracted by the Game on the Field

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It’s football season! Excitement is in the air. Even the weather is excited, with a brisk, cool wind.  Not so surprising for those of you in the north, but for those of us in the south, this is huge. 

I can feel the excitement around our house too.  Hubby is a huge football fan.  He doesn’t even need an allegiance or tie to a team for him to be mesmerized by the game.  Many wives hate this time of year, but I actually enjoy it.  While I love watching my Aggies or even my high school team, it’s not the football that I’m excited about.  I’m pumped because during football season all of our ironing gets done – on a weekly basis!

Early in our marriage, Hubby told me he planned to watch football on Sundays – every Sunday.  Seeing my expression, he quickly realized the need to negotiate this time devoted to watching grown men throwing, running and tackling each other over a brown leather ball.  I mean come on; if it was a nice pair of Jimmy Choos I’m sure I would be more enthusiastic.  But not a ball.  Anyway, Hubby offered to do all of our ironing while he watches football.  Score!  Of course I agreed to this arrangement.

This doesn’t mean that I’m not interested in football.  If I can get tickets to see the Aggies, I’m there.  Same thing with my nephew’s high school team.  I’m the proud aunt and am definitely going to cheer him on.

Before I go further, let me say that Hubby and I have different reasons for attending a sporting event.  Hubby is all about the game. His rule is that we need to be there for kick-off and we need to stay until the bitter end, no matter who’s winning, and I’m usually in agreement here.  Yet there’s more to watch than the game on the field.  As a former dance team member, I’m always interested in the half-time show.  I also enjoy watching the cheerleaders with their complicated tumbling stunts. Not to mention the social aspect, but we’ll get to that in a minute.

We recently had the opportunity to see my nephew in action – football excitement at its best.  It was our first time to watch him play varsity and we couldn’t wait.  We had awesome seats in front of my sister and her hubby that were high enough to see the plays, yet low enough to feel the action.

Just after kick-off, Sis and I started talking about Nephew’s school, his game stats, etc.  We hadn’t been at the game more than five minutes when a dear friend found us in the stands.  We chatted excitedly, like old friends do, getting caught up on each other’s lives.  Periodically I would hear the crowd roar, meaning that something happened on field and I would divert my attention from my friend and Sis to cheer or sigh or whatever emotion was needed to support the team.

Hubby, in the meantime, was completely focused on the game. Occasionally he would glance over at me as if to say, “Hey, are you paying attention to your nephew?”  And finally it was half-time.  This is my super-bowl, the time when my eyes never leave the field.  I loved watching the girls dance as I pointed out to Hubby for the umpteenth time where I stood on the field when I was on the drill team.  He politely let me reminisce while he relived his glory days in the marching band.

The second half started and Hubby was in a trance, all of his attention on the game.  I decided to visit my friend in her section of the stands, so off I went.  Nephew displayed his football skills by kicking for three points and we cheered for him in between fashion discussions.  Before I knew it, the game was over.  As I reunited with Hubby, he smiled and sort of laughed.  “What?” I said, not understanding what was so amusing.  “I thought you wanted to watch our nephew,” he said.  Explaining that I did want to see Nephew play, but also see my friends, he said, “Well I certainly wouldn’t want you to be distracted by the game on the field.”

Of course I was not distracted by the game on the field. Duh!  I knew when Nephew was playing; I even knew the score from peeking at the scoreboard.  Men! They just don’t get it, do they?  There are two events happening at once: the game on the field, and the social game in the stands.

“Distracted by the game” – hmpf! Hubby just needs to learn which game to watch.

Hubby Was Right

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Hubby likes to be right. This doesn’t happen very often, but occasionally he is right.  At that point he announces to anyone who will listen, “Hey, I was right today!”  Women stare back at him like he’s nuts, while the guys smile and give him a high-five.  This is because they too are seldom right.

It all started because I was having “one of those days”.  You know, the kind where nothing makes you happy, with a funk hanging over you like a black cloud?  Luckily they don’t happen to me very often.  Hubby is extremely glad too.  My mood can go from giddy to ghoulish in a nanosecond, although mostly I just can’t seem to make a decision on anything – going to the gym, working, reading, watching TV – you name it.   I know I’m in a funk, yet I simply can’t extract myself from its grip.

This time was even worse because I had work to do, including writing.  Nothing kills creativity more than being in a funk.  I had been at the computer for hours and all I had to show for it was a Facebook update and a few winning games of solitaire.

Being a very smart man, Hubby assessed the situation and suggested I get out of the house for a break.  Being a very stubborn gal, I didn’t move a muscle, insisting that I need to stay at the computer to get work done.   Not sure exactly what happened next except that I found myself being led to my car, purse in hand, with Hubby telling me to head to the mall and just walk around to clear my head.   “It will do you good,” he said.  “Besides, don’t you need to buy some face stuff?”  That’s guy-talk for make-up, in case you don’t recognize it.

Fine, I thought. You want me out of the house, I’ll leave.  It’s not going to help the funk I’m in, but at least I’ll get some exercise. 

I felt even worse when I got to the mall, realizing that I had not bothered to change and I was still in my gym clothes.  At least I wasn’t sweaty since my funk had forbid me from hitting the gym.  My plan was a quick walk all the way around the mall, with only one stop for “face stuff”.  

As I walked, it occurred to me that I hadn’t been shopping in quite some time.  Serious shopping, I mean.  The kind where you look at all the clothes, assess the season’s trends and make a wish list of must-haves.  Store windows screamed fall, with new clothes in a glorious color palette.  Colors that were perfect for me.  Styles that were perfect for me.  Sale signs that encouraged me to shop – which was perfect for me.

Let me just say that I’m usually pretty quick to decide on clothing. I can enter a store, visually scan the racks, and tell almost immediately whether or not there’s anything I want to look at.  I’m so quick that if Hubby is with me, he barely gets a chance to find a seat before I’m ready to move on to the next store.

This time was different. EVERYTHING was calling my name.  As I stepped into one of my favorite stores, my heart started racing and I found my excitement pushing the funk out the back door.  The colors and styles were almost too much to take in.  Perusing the racks, touching the fabrics, examining the styles – before I knew it I was in a dressing room with a pile of clothes to try on.    And of course for once, everything I tried on fit. And looked good.  Nothing beats a good funk like fabulous new clothes. 

A bit overwhelmed by all of the styles and colors, I decided to move on down the mall while I thought about a purchase.   Every store was the same, with windows ablaze in fashion, each style calling my name.

As I purchased the one item I actually came for – “face stuff” – I mentally tallied the bill to purchase the fashions I was interested in.  My math was rough, but I figured it totaled about $5,000. I got in the car and headed home.

Walking in the door, Hubby could sense that my mood had changed and that my funk had bailed on me.  “See – I told you shopping would be good for you!” he crowed, knowing that his decision to send me to the mall had indeed been right.  “Did you get your face stuff?”  “Oh yeah”, I told him.  “But there was so much to buy!  The clothes are fabulous this season; just my colors. I spent about $5,000”. 

I watched the color drain from Hubby’s face as he clutched his wallet while trying to look brave and supportive.  I failed to tell him that I had only mentally spent $5,000.  After all, it’s important for him to know that he was right. 

© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved