Took Us A Break

   
     In this era of self care and mindfulness, do we actual practice what we preach? Most importantly, what happens when we do?

    As many of you noticed, I didn't blog much in 2017. I blogged 2 times to be exact. I put myself on a much needed hiatus. After the death of my grandmother in 2016, I just needed a second to reconfigure. I set out to do just that as 2017 approached. I had multiple jobs, each leading to one better. It was an amazing year of career catch up. It was as though the years that I was stagnant for 6 1/2 years in one job was being made up for by the universe.

     Two of the biggest lessons that I learned in 2017 that I am taking into 2018 was to know my worth and take (calculated) risks.  Many of these risks came in the form of job changes.  When I saw that I was undervalued and being treated poorly, it was as though an internal signal kicked me into high gear to find something more worthy of me. I listened each time. After my grandmother's death, I decided to live my life with no regrets and to not settle for anything or anyone not worthy of me. In the long run, that is the best self care of all. If I felt like my time was being wasted, I wasn't going to continue dealing with it.

     I also carved out more time for myself. I've always been a big believer that you can't enjoy the company of others if you can't stand your own company. I'd done this before, but I did it on a much bigger scale this time.  I went back to meditating, which has helped tremendously. I even created a vision board. I began to sharpen my focus and and quiet my mind of thoughts that weren't positive.

   
     What I also found was that self care often involves say "no" to things and people that would diminish your spirit. Many times, we worry about being mean and end up jeopardizing our well being in the process. I was determined not to do this anymore. I decided to be more hands on in the creation of my best life. My goal is to take center stage in my life and seize my aspirations and passions.

     There comes a point when we have to hit pause and see where we are. We have to be brave enough to look internally without fear and work towards being the best version of ourselves without hesitation.

Best Thing I Never Had

     I've heard it said that there are only two tragedies in life: One is not getting what you want and the other is getting it. What happens when not getting what you want turns out to be the best alternative?

     I'm an over thinker. I admit it. When I want something, I think about it... a lot. A few months back, I ran into an acquaintance while I was out and about. I used to have the biggest crush on him. Even when I told myself that I was done, he still found a way to take up space in my head. As we briefly chatted, it was like a spell was broken. It was as though all his words were strung together to produce some absurd limerick. He was saying things that actually defied logic. Instead of feeling butterflies, I quietly offered a prayer of thanks to God for never letting me date him. What had I seen in him? Why had it taken so long for me to notice what a debacle dating him would have been? 

     I find that when you want something and you can't have it, there is usually a good reason. The universe is trying to save you from a monumental bad time. At first, you aren't able to see it because your judgment is clouded.

     About five years ago, I applied for a job at an influential non profit in my town. I did every form of interview prep I could think of. I was ready. I really felt like I had the interview in the bag. They didn't send me my rejection letter until a month and a half later. I obsessed the entire time in between. When I got the letter, I was disappointed to say the least. That following Summer the same position was vacant and being advertised on an online job posting board, just like when I applied. I learned two things from this: 1.) This organization had high turnover in this position. 2.) I dodged a huge bullet.

Sometimes when something looks good, you can get carried away. You begin to picture the thing or person you want in your life without being realistic. Stand in your truth. Would this thing or person really be a good fit? Upon deeper investigation, the answer is usually a resounding no. The grass is greener only where you water it.

The Real Me

     In this social media age, it's hard to tell what's real and what's all facade. No one is really what they seem. With all the digital exposure, people are still unknown. Few people are really who they portray themselves as. Is it okay to be yourself?

     I try to be authentic. Fake people tend to grate my nerves. I try not to be around these people simply because I don't trust them or their intentions. Being "real" doesn't mean perfection. Most people forget that the first step to being yourself is to be honest about who you are. The past couple of years, I have made a conscious effort to be to be honest with myself.  I've found that I am type A, aggressive, and sometimes cold. I am warm towards those I care about, but people who have tried to take advantage of me experience my "polar vortex" firsthand. In addition to these traits, I am also passionate, efficient and resilient. However, the first three tend to shape my personal relationships.

     My type A and aggressive nature are what is needed to get things done professionally. Efficiency is something I have to be whether working my day job or doing my PR work. I am cold when my personal relationships don't yield themselves to warmth anymore. When I feel disrespect or lack of effort, I go cold as I mentioned above. I've come to terms with this. I don't lie about it or pretend it isn't so. That would be inauthentic.

    For example, at a previous job, a co-worker quit. She was given a going away luncheon. I confess, I didn't like her and wasn't sad to see her go. That being said I didn't attend. I wasn't rude about it, I quietly requested a half day and went home. To me, it was disingenuous to paste on a smile and feast on free food. I'd rather starve than dine on behalf of an enemy. I'm just being truthful. Some would argue my actions were harsh. I get it. Sometimes, you are in situations where civility is called for. That's fine, but when you have an option, I don't think you have to put up with certain things.

     Part of the human experience is to engage in the full experience. That experience should be as real as you can possibly make it. Not just real to others, but real to yourself.

Worst Laid Plans

 When making plans with someone, nothing takes the wind out of your social sails like a cancellation. Especially, when it’s an abrupt one. When does a cancellation go from reasonable to rude?

       

 Last summer, an acquaintance of mine from college, asked me out. If I’d looked over our previous Facebook messages, I’d have seen this coming, but I’d been busy. When he asked me, I figured it would be a nice outing between colleagues. I wasn’t expecting anything serious. Witty banter over dinner never killed anyone, right? He’s younger than me so, I saw no real promise in the date. Nonetheless, we set up a date for the coming Saturday and exchanged numbers.

    

      That Friday night, I decided to shoot Lachlan a text. I always like to follow up when I have plans with someone. Plus, I had sneaky suspicion.

      

      “What’s up?” I texted.

      

       “I’m sick,” He texted back.

      

 Seriously, I thought to myself. Who did he think he was kidding? I’d hoped he wouldn’t live up to trend of inconsistency that most men in my generation do, but as expected he did.

    

 I’m no fool. I knew what actually happened.

1.       He really was sick. (Ha!)

2.       He double booked. (I’ve been guilty myself. It’s called time management and you make it work.)

3.       He decided to binge watch a show or some other millennial excuse.

    

 Either way, I wasn’t amused. So I texted back, “Some other time.”

    

 Let me explain what that meant. If we weren’t acquaintances in the same social set, I would have texted him to get hit by a train, but I figured I’d be civil and never engage him socially so long as we both live. I did, however delete his phone number. I saw no need to keep wasting my phone’s memory. When Saturday came, I looked at an art exhibition, took myself to lunch and got a pedicure. Why waste the day?

      

Days later as I was on my way to run a quick errand, I got a text. It read: “What are you up to?” I didn’t recognize the number. I texted back, “Who is this?”

    

 A few seconds passed before the mystery texter answered back.

      

The text read: “Oh man. It’s Lachlan.”

    

 I was annoyed. I’m not Johnny on the spot. We had plans, he cancelled them. Sorry, Charlie. My time is valuable. Not my problem.

    

 I shot back, “Oh. I’m on my way out.”

      

“Ok. LOL,” he texted back. I have reason to believe there was no laughing out loud involved.

    

 When plans are made, each party need to be considered in the planning. If plans need to be cancelled, you should still be respectful of other people’s time whether it’s serious or not.

    

Don't Step on the Rake

     The dictionary defines a “rake” as a fashionable or wealthy man of dissolute or promiscuous habits. You are probably more familiar with the synonyms: playboy, libertine, or profligate.  While the above definition is a bit dramatic and somewhat overblown, you can’t deny the allure. What is it that makes these men so magnetic and why do we bother?

   

       I’ve had my own personal experiences with the rakish sort. One such experience comes to mind. He didn’t seem like trouble, but he did look like everything I liked. As we talked, we found that we had many similar interests. Many conversations of music and films filled the air between us. We went on outings, but nothing of substance. It was only a matter of time before mixed signals abounded. It became apparent that this was not going to be anything serious. I left my emotions out of the equation and proceeded onward. I went on dates with other potential suitors, but I confess, sometimes a lady likes a distraction.

Don Draper

  

      For months our similar interests were enough to keep me interested. At a certain point, I needed to focus. I didn’t have time for blurred vision, tinted lenses, or double vision. I cut him loose and sailed away. My life moves in one direction; forward. Honestly, this is the most I’ve reflected on it.

    

      I sometimes wonder what drew me to him. His looks were a catalyst, but it was something more. Rakish men are captivating, unpredictable, and suave. This makes them sexy. Take James Bond, for example. Is he not the ultimate rake? He’s impeccably dressed, articulate, handsome, and an occupational risk taker. What woman wouldn’t be swayed into a bad decision? Bond may be mesmerizing, but he’s usually gone in the morning.

Bond. James Bond

   

      Some things are too intriguing to stay away from. By my estimation, there are two ways to deal with a rake. You either don’t engage them at all or you get rid of them before you get too entangled. Rakes are like wild animals; admire them from a distance, but never interact.

Bad Company

     Company luncheons are a time for comradery and relaxation. Sometimes they’re made uncomfortable by the poor manners of your companions. 

    

 A few months ago, some of my company’s managers decided to take all of the administrative assistants out to lunch for Administrative Professional’s Day. A new restaurant had opened in a neighboring suburb and that was where it was going to be held. Normally, this would have been great, but some of the other assistants aren’t my cup of tea, but I decided to make the best of it. How bad could it be?

      

When we all got to the restaurants, I was immediately struck by its beauty of its décor. It reminded me of a place Don Draper would have taken a client. The music was a mix of old and modern jazz with Sinatra thrown in for good measure. As we were seated at a round table, the complaints slowly began to start.    

      

“What’s with this music?” Christine, a sales manager, asked.

      

“I don’t know. I don’t get it,” Mark, another sales manager answered.

    

 I tried to keep my eyes in place. I resisted every urge to roll them at the nonsense I was hearing. As our drink orders were taken, I sat still and quiet.

    

 I was seated in between my department manager, Garth and a sales assistant named Lauren. On the other side of Lauren was Jocelyn.  Need I say more? If you’ve read my previous blog posts, you know she grates me. With her being pregnant, she was especially insufferable. Lauren, however, is awesome.

    

 As the appetizers made their way to the table, small talk was made. The conversation turned towards children, which was just the opening Jocelyn needed to dominate the conversation and talk about her pregnancy. This opened the floor for Mark and the local sales manager, Anderson, to talk at length about their wives’ pregnancies. Oh joy.

    

 “You’re coming back to work after this baby, right? Anderson asked. “Because most women don’t.”

      

“Wow,” I thought. “How inappropriate and incredibly sexist of you”

    

 “Yeah, I’m coming back. My first maternity leave was fine until the last three weeks. I had to get out of the house. I was looking forward to my husband coming home.”

   

  Twenty minutes of marriage and baby talk was a bit much for me. I confess, as a single, childless thirty-something, I would have preferred the electric chair than enduring more of the table’s dialogue.

     

 “This artichoke dip isn’t that great,” balked Anderson.

      

“They forgot my soup,” Mark complained.

    

 As the waiter walked past they complained louder instead of stopping him. There were 9 people in our party. It wasn’t like they ignored us. Plus, there was a larger party having what I presumed was a business lunch as well.

    

 “Excuse me,” Garth said to the waiter. “We’re missing a soup.”

      

The waiter apologized profusely and asked what kind of soup it was. In less than two minutes, the soup was on the table and ready for consumption.

    

 “Well, his tip just got smaller,” sneered Mark.

    

 By the time our meals came, I was beyond annoyed. As we ate, Jocelyn decided to regale the table with stories of every restaurant that she worked at in college. She waxed poetic about one restaurant’s gazpacho while constantly rubbing her ever present baby bump. Anytime someone mentioned their meal, she rubbed her baby bump while make a noise similar to a horse whinnying. She pretty much made the noise whenever food was mentioned even at the office. She compared her plate of food one of her former workplaces.

      

“This soup is so gross,” Mark said dramatically putting his spoon in the soup’s bowl.

      

“I’m not impressed,” complained Anderson. “We don’t need to ever come back here.”

      

Honestly, I liked the place. The ambiance was great and my salmon was wonderful. It was some of my lunch companions that were abysmal.

     

 When we got back to the office, I was ready for everyone to go back to their respective departments. What started out as a gesture of gratitude turned into an infuriating affair.

    

 A midday lunch can be the rest you need from a hectic workday. When breaking bread, try to choose the best company for the meal. If you have no choice, eat, and stay quiet. That’s what I did.

Take Your Pick

     Attraction is an interesting thing. As quickly as you have it, you can lose it just as fast. This is especially true if the other person does something to send you running in the other direction.

     A few weeks ago, Liza and I were hanging out at one of our local haunts for a "girl's night out", when I spotted a striking man walking in. He was tall and well built. His smile was mega watt. As Liza and I danced to songs and chatted, my eyes still managed to find him.

    After returning to our seats after some spirited dancing to "Footloose", Liza and I sat down.

     "Liza, look at him," I said subtly pointing.

     "Is he with that lady?" she asked pointing to a leggy blond vying for his attention.

     I'd seen her all over most of the unattached men in the place, so I knew better.

    "No, she's all over everybody," I said.

    The handsome stranger now had his back turned to greet a friend. When the friend left for another part of the bar, he began to turn around. My delight quickly turned into disgust, when he turned around with his forefinger firmly lodged up his nose. I was beyond grossed out. He didn't seem to be bothered either way.

     "Liza, look!" I loudly whispered over the music.

     "What?!" she asked.

    "He was prospecting!" I shouted while making a nose picking motion with my finger.

     She scowled almost immediately.

     "That's so gross! Are you kidding me?!"

     "Well, the thrill is gone," I said.

     No matter how attractive a person is, bad etiquette of hygiene will easily diminish their sparkle.