My busy, hectic, messy life

I've had a Filofax day planner for ages, but this year, upon discovering that I couldn't buy the refill pages I wanted, I went and purchased a passion planner. And I love it!

It has a monthly section so you can have a high-level view of your month, as well as a week-on-a-page. It also has a whole section for planning out how you're going to achieve your goals for the year, monthly check-ins so you can reflect on what you've accomplished so far, and extra sheets for making notes, doodling, or whatever you need them for. And there's a pocket in the back for holding lose papers (or in my case stickers!). 

I was curious as to how other people were using their passion planner, so I looked at pictures on their website, Instagram, Facebook, and twitter. And the vast majority of the pictures I found appeared to be more marketing-related--perfect handwriting, lots of happy things, clear tasks for each day...not the crowded, scribbled mess that my weeks become (which is understandable for advertising purposes--there are times I look at my week and think hell, no!). And then I found Xandra, and I discovered she was using a passion planner, too! She introduced me to the idea of highlighting completed tasks instead of crossing them off, which makes my passion planner look so much prettier!

But still, I thought, does anyone out there who uses a passion planner have a real job, and a crazy life? There were so many pictures of people who seemed to only have four things to do a day. And I wanted to shout IF YOU ONLY HAVE FOUR THINGS TO DO A DAY, YOU DON'T NEED A PASSION PLANNER. YOU JUST NEED TO GET UP!

I'm a financial analyst for a software company (one you've actually heard of). I'm training to run a marathon. I'm writing a novel. I have various other projects I'm working on, I'm in a bookclub, and oh, yeah, I also want to spend time with my husband, my family, and my friends. I have a very full life, and my passion planner helps me keep it organized. 

So I thought I'd publish some photos of what my passion planner looks like, in case there was anyone else out there who wondered how people who have multiple goals manage their schedule.

This is what this week looks like. Note: this does not even contain all of the meetings, etc. I have for work. This is just my life outside of work.

This is what next week looks like!

This is the following week--not busy...YET!

This is my monthly view of March. 

These are the chocolate chocolate chip cookies I made today. Because I'm an over-achiever like that!

Sometimes, even when I'm trying to work at work, it still doesn't happen.

I have a lot of strange conversations in my head, partially because I'm strange and partially because Captain America works at night and so there's no one at home for me to talk to. Also, there's no one at home to tell me I shouldn't post things like this.

At work today, I accidentally asked excel to calculate a fuck-ton of data, when I only wanted a shit-ton calculated. And so the whirly blue circle of aggrevation whirled and whirled and whirled for over an hour. And while all of this was going on, I caught up on my bloggess reading. And so I read her bit about the death of Alan Rickman, which still cracks my heart just a little every time I think about it.

And in it, her husband reminds her that she had sort of created an Alan Rickman fan club, and also included him on a list of hot men that husbands don't understand why women think they're hot. So of course I HAD to go find this list, but unfortunately she wrote it for her sex blog, which is some sort of community publication for a sex toy company.

All of which is fine with me. I don't care what two (or more) consulting adults do. But I'm at work, and so I'm blocked. (Sometimes the things that are blocked are so random. I was totally able to see nudy pics of people that were part of an artistic project a photographer friend was working on, and it wasn't like some of the pics were nude and some were not. FULL FRONTAL OF EVERYONE! But to see a list of hot men, that's a problem? Corporate America is so weird sometimes.)

And so I came home and searched for it on our home computer, and it was still a bit of a struggle to find, but I managed. But I'm now working on my work computer and so I can't find it again. But there was also a list of people who men assume women will have sex with but women don't actually want to, like Tom Cruise.

And this reminded me of a Tom Cruise-ish conversation I had with a guy friend who insisted that every woman on the planet wanted to have sex with Nicole Kidman's new husband (is he still her new husband? I can't  even keep track any more)--the one who is from Australia but is a country music star. As if that makes any sense.

And the coversation went something like this:

Friend: Chicks dig [whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is]

Me: Nope. I can't handle that terrible hair.

Friend: Chicks dig the hair.

Me: He does have amazing blue eyes, but that haircut is awful.

Friend: You don't know what you're talking about.

Me: He has terrible hair. And he's kind of skinny. I do not want to have sex with him.

Friend: You're wrong.

Me: The only vagina in this conversation is mine!

Friend: Then why is he so popular with the ladies?

Me: I can't fucking figure it out either. Maybe because he has a shit-ton of money?

Friend: Women want to do him.

Me: You're fired.

And as I was reliving this conversation, I was growing increasingly annoyed that some guy thought he could tell me who I was and was not attracted to. And then I remembered that I rarely see this friend anymore (not entirely because of this conversation), and then I wondered if my husband would care at all that I totally want to join the Team Rickman fan club.

Probably not. He's probably worried about what my company is going to do when they realize what's in my search history.

Why I never get anything done: Adulting gets in the way

I am so ready for some utter nonsense.

I work for a company that is pretty flexible in allowing people to work from home, or at least my manager is. Which is a good thing because I needed to be home to wait for the installation of our new washing machine. It would be even better if the washing machine was now washing part of the mountain of laundry in the garage, but it's not. Because the installation guys aren't allowed to work with corroded pipes, and evidently the pipes in my garage are corroded. (I feel like this is the beginning of a dirty joke, but it's not. It's just my life today.)

So I called our plumber ("where did you find this guy?" Captain America asks me. "From the business card on the fridge," I tell him. "It's going to cost us an arm and a leg," Captain America tells me.). The plumber cheerfully offers to come over tomorrow at 4:30. It's not perfect, but then this whole thing isn't perfect. But I can make 4:30 work because I have a flexible and understanding manager.

I open up outlook to send my manager a calendar notification telling her that I'll be working from home again tomorrow afternoon due to this plumbing debacle only to find that my internet is no longer working. I go into the office (I've currently taken over the dining room table for work because we've recently had a heat wave and the dining room has a ceiling fan but the office doesn't) to restart the router, and I press the restart button. And nothing happens. The lights don't blink on and off, there's no clicky sound of a button being pressed. Nothing.

I decide to use our old wireless router (we've very recently changed wireless service providers), which for some reason is still plugged in and working just fine, despite Captain America's cancelling the service. The old router is working just fine on my phone, but not on my laptop. It wants some sort of 8-digit all-numeric pin that the laptop is claiming is on the router. There is no 8-digit all numeric anything on my router.

So I unplug all of the routers, plug them back in, and track down about 95 different passcodes, Meanwhile, I've checked that we don't actually have a laundry emergency (Captain America has exactly one clean uniform left, so we don't need to go to a laundromat tomorrow), and I go to text him this information. And there's some sort of weird voice text bar sitting over my text box. So I can't actually see the words I'm texting. Which of course would be fine if the words I'm writing actually ended up in the text, but as autocorrect can be quite the bitch, I really can't rely on that. Fortunately, I'm just texting my husband and he already thinks I'm nuts.

I give up and call Captain America. Captain America asks me to reschedule the installation of the washing machine for Friday, and to call our internet guy to see if he can figure out what the problem is. Then some garble comes over the radio and he says "I'm at work. I have to go." I'M AT WORK, TOO, I want to shout. But of course, by this point, he's off saving the world and I'm only yelling at a bunch of uncooperative technology.

Fortunately, by this point the internet is working again, and I'm able to google my iPhone problem. And the solution is to power off my phone. Of course it is.

While my phone is powering on/off I email my manager to explain to her a) why I haven't actually accomplished a single thing since I left the office, despite being on line for 5 hours, and b) why I'll need to work from home again tomorrow afternoon. She writes back and says, "Oh. I forgot about you."

Clearly my job is impactful.

So much to do, so little time

As I was preparing to write this post, I was actually thinking, is this worthwhile, or should I not post about this and instead move on to something else? But then I remembered that I actually liked blogging, and that in the time I was spending thinking about doing it, I could just write the damn post. You're welcome.

As you many recall (or not, since I'm an inconsistent blogger), I am working on a year of transformation. One thing I've been working on is learning to see myself accurately. This is important to me for many reasons, but one of them is that I'd like to grow my career. I'm very smart. This is not the problem. But I know I don't have the interpersonal skills I need to get where I want to go. Because frankly, I don't like people. What I'm learning, however, is that I don't have to like them to get along with them.

Anyway, because of all of this, I've been reading a lot about how the brain works, especially as it relates to emotional intelligence. Which is one of the things I could be doing now if I weren't writing this.

I recently asked a friend how a would-be-writer (this is how I would classify both of us. We've both written books. We don't have agents. We know we can write. This whole rejection letter thing is just part of the process)...anyway, I asked this friend how would-be-writers managed to have day jobs (because: bills! standards of living!), find time to write, read about the art of writing, read books in their genre, query agents, and do functional things like exercise, laundry, and grocery shopping.

Her response was: poorly. Then she noted that this may be why writers are over-weight alcoholics. (Before you get all worked up over this accusation, I seriously doubt writers, as a population, are more overweight and alcoholicy than non-writers, it's just that working in more-or-less isolation makes you forget that no one else is particularly good at adulting, either.)

I'd like to get back to the "poorly" bit, though, because everyone I talk to, specifically all working women I know, feel like they have too much going on and/or they are dissatisfied in some aspect (or aspects) of their life. So much, in fact, that they don't think they're doing anything well. Obviously we're all doing stuff "good enough." Our bills are paid. Our families eat. We have jobs and dental insurance.

Here is a list of stuff, in no particular order, that I'm not doing as well as I'd like to:

• Eating food that's actually good for me
• Exercising enough to meet my goals
• Sleeping enough to not be a bitch
• Whatever my job is (I just changed roles, so I'm sort of off the radar as work is transitioned, which is nice, but also makes me feel like I'm not contributing enough)
• Blogging enough to have a following (why do I need a following? As a social media platform for that book I haven't published yet? I don't even know)
• Editing my book into something that can be published
• Outlining my new book so editing it will be easier than this one (ha ha ha!)

I know. My mother is going to take a look at this list and tell me to cross half of it off as unnecessary. Honestly, this is too many things to focus on. So what I'm actually working on is getting enough sleep. 

I've been doing a lot of reading about sleep (sleep, the brain, and yet my next book is about zombies. I'm not really helping myself here at all). Everything I read says, in a nutshell, that sleep is THE THING that will make everything else better/easier/more efficient/prettier/more baconier/and in general more awesome. Sleep helps curb food cravings. Sleep helps your tummy know when it's full. Sleep makes exercising easier. Sleep makes thinking (presumably part of my job) easier. I'm sure sleep will help me focus enough that this blog isn't a rambly hot mess, sleep will make me a smarter writer. And sleep will make me less bitchy. If only I had a nap desk!

The tragedy of jogging

Somehow, I have become a jogger. I used to be a runner, but I am now sufficiently slow that I do not feel that "run" is the verb that accurately captures my forward momentum, or lack thereof.

As you have probably guessed from the title of this post, this is not a development that I am pleased with.

A friend wants to run the Portland Marathon in 2016, a race that I've already completed three times. Immediately after finishing my most recent marathon (not Portland), I swore I would never run another again, but as my running partner prophesied, I'd change my mind. (She didn't. She's still over marathons.) Which means I have a year and 5 months to turn myself not only back into a runner, but back into a marathoner.

I have several books related to running, including anatomy, specific workouts, and even a few memoirs. The first step is, honestly, to lose some weight. Not because I'm trying to be skinny, but because I'm about 25 pounds over my  marathoning weight, and that's a lot of extra weight to carry for 26 miles. (I blame all of the thug muscles I've gained doing CrossFit. And the squats. Don't get me wrong, I still love CrossFit. But for me, CrossFit and marathons are not compatible.)

I'm trying to up my running (and cardio in general) to get to a consistent number of miles a week so that I have a base on which to build a training platform. (At least I sound like I know what I'm doing!) Oh, wait, I do know what I'm doing! I'm becoming a runner again. I'm becoming a marathoner again. I'm transforming my self and my life.

Virginia does not share hot chocolate!

My company is doing a 30-day meditation challenge, in which everyone who is interested is invited to meditate for 15 minutes a day for 30 days. We have some group sessions on campus, and we receive links to online resources, as well as daily inspirations. This is today's inspiration:

As I'm sure you can imagine, I don't find this particularly inspiring. 

I signed up for this meditation challenge because meditating is part of my transformation ideology. And actually, deliberateness is, too. I want my life to be less hurried, less rushed, less frenzied. But I find that whole sentence above to be confusing. 

I don't want to come back to this day, as if it was the final day of my life. This day has been spent at work, doing workish things. I would rather come back to Saturday, when I bought Captain America the smallest hot chocolate in the world because he wanted two sips of mine and I told him that Virginia does not share hot chocolate! (Also, I asked him, remember that time we went out to dinner and I was starving and you finally took me to get something to eat? And he told me, that's every time we go out to dinner. He understands me so well!)

This is so much more inspiring, because it is so silly! And, Captain America reported that it was THREE sips of hot chocolate! He even got a bonus sip!

This is why I get nothing done at work, even when I don't spend the day in meetings.

I show up at work this morning and immediately attend a meditation session (yes, I work for one of those kinds of companies).

Then I get back to my desk and I sit down to finish listening to the Excel training I started yesterday (by Jeff Lenning--he's crazy enthusiastic about excel. I'm crazy enthusiastic about anything that automates my job and therefore makes my life easier. Or at least allows me to spend less time at work. Unlike writing this blog post.)

Except, I have a friend who's looking for a Conservation Biologist to talk to a high-schooler with leukemia about what her job is like. And I know a Conservation Biologist. So then I spend some time connecting the two of them. The C.B. is currently driving across the country, and may or may not be headed through Spokane, WA, where Cody makes Disney-themed drinks. (I can't make this stuff up. As far as I'm concerned, this might be the only reason to go to Spokane, and I haven't even had one of his drinks.) So, of course, it is basically my civic duty to inform the C.B. of this.

But my new manager wants me to look into getting a company-issued phone, so I start to research that, and I reach out to the woman I'll be shadowing to see if she actually has a company-issued phone, and we get into a whole conversation on when I'll be moving to my new location so I can actually be of some use to my new team.

At the same time, I coordinated a women's group lunch to make sure all of the attendees understand that we have two lunches this week--one with our group and one with another group. Then I had to remove an attendee who TOLD ME LAST MONTH that she wanted to be part of the group, so I added her to everything, and then TOLD ME TODAY that she is too busy. She's an administrative assistant. You'd think she'd have a better understanding of scheduling.

Meanwhile, I'm also taking a Facebook class or something on becoming a Beach Body Coach--which I am killing, by the way--today we are supposed to 1) Make a healthy choice. Meditation it is; 2) Reach out to a friend--nailed it! I've reached out to, and connected, two of them FOR PHILANTHROPIC REASONS, and it's not even lunch; and 3) do something to grow yourself. I guess I could count mediation for this one and then do something else healthy, like not eat out of the snack drawer. If only I could get paid to be this awesome! But, tragically, this isn't really my day job. It's only what I've been doing at my day job.

I might be turning into Marlon Brando. Or not.

Basically this is a post with a lot of pictures. So it's a lot like a children's book, but even more random.

I've lost my voice. Which is generally sub-optimal, but even more so since my instant message communicator at work was causing my Outlook to crash. So basically I had to learn morose code to communicate today. It's a lot like Morse code, except you can also use it to communicate with Grumpy Cat.

(It's a good thing I can entertain myself, since I'll probably have no friends left after I force them all to learn morose code.)

Anyway, a coworker said I sound like Marlon Brando. When I try to talk. With my non-voice. Which I suppose is a step up from yesterday when I sounded like a drowning Muppet.

At any rate, I told said coworker that I was going to take a class at our gym taught by an incredibly enthusiastic 62-year old. This is him playing the role of Cupid on Valentine's Day. Obviously he suffers from low self-esteem.

Coworker says, I don't have the energy to take Cupid's class.

I say, I haven't worked out in a week. I might be turning to mush. Sort of like Marlon Brando when he got old.

Young Marlon Brando was hot. Old Marlon Brando looks like everyone's great-uncle Nelson. Which is fine for the great-uncles of the world, but not so much for a woman.

The worst Lent EVER

I found the below post in my "draft" file. I'm not sure where I was going with it at the time, but one of the things I'm working on in my Transform campaign is to figure out a food lifestyle that makes me happy, keeps me satiated, and is healthy. It's a lot of work to eat well, because it involves a lot of planning, and I don't particularly like to cook. But I also know that I feel better when I eat well. As Gretchen Rubin, over at The Happiness Project proclaims, one of her personal commandments is to "be Gretchen." Basically, this means that she needs to do what is right for her, not what she "thinks" she should be doing, and not what is right for other people. 

Okay, so here is the actual post:

My CrossFit gym (I REFUSE to call it a "box") is doing what my friend accurately described as The. Worst. Lent. EVER. It's basically this thing where, for 30 days, you can't eat anything fun whatsoever. I'm sure that if I managed to keep my shit together and not stab anyone ("
stabby" is a real emotion if you're from New Jersey...it essentially means angry, but has the colorful implication that someone might end up in a garbage can. Because that's how we roll), I'd actually lose a ton of weight. But I'd be the bitchiest version of myself, and the reality is that I'd probably gain it all back as soon as I stopped.

Energy Drain

At least once a week, you'll see an article on Facebook about getting rid of "toxic friends." But I have sort of the opposite of a toxic friend.

I had a friend who was nice, and sweet, and generous, and always up for anything. When she asked "how are you?" she actually wanted to listen to an answer, instead of just exchanging a brief greeting.

And somehow, I found her exhausting. I would spend a day with her, and I would come home completely depleted, despite the fact that everything that had happened had been fun and pleasant and nice and enjoyable.

For a while, I felt guilty about avoiding this friend. I couldn't pinpoint what the problem was, and I felt bad about not wanting to spend time with someone who was so nice.

In the end, I decided it mattered less WHY this particular relationship was exhausting, and more that it simply was. I would never suggest to someone else that they should spend time with someone they found exhausting, even if that person was nice, so why should I?

I haven't seen this person in over a year, and sometimes I still feel like I should tell her why I "broke up" with her, although to be fair, she hasn't contacted me, either, so maybe the feeling was mutual. In the end, the conclusion I came to, was it was exhausting for me to be around her because I always felt like I needed to be patient, and sweet, and nice, and basically not me. Pretending is exhausting.

Transform

A while ago, probably around December or January, back when everyone was thinking about New Year's resolutions, I read something that resonated with me: a suggestion to pick a one-word theme for the year. Rather than a list of things to do (or not do), pick a theme you wanted to permeate your year. For reasons I still can't articulate, I LOVED this idea, but I couldn't think up a word at the time.

No big deal, I figured. I don't really buy into the idea that you can only make changes to your life at the beginning of the year, and I knew from experience that keeping resolutions is really, really hard. Then, over Mother's Day weekend it hit me: Transform. That was the theme I wanted for my year. So what if my year now ran from Mother's Day to Mother's Day in stead of New Year's Day to December 31? I realized that all of the changes I wanted to make had to do with transforming my life. And the word, transform, sounds so positive, so rejuvenating.

I started my transformation in the most obvious place: sleeping on my husband's side of the bed.

Captain America said, "What are you doing?"
"Transforming my life," I replied.
"Why are you doing it on my side of the bed?" he asked.
"If you recall, this side of the bed USED to be my side" I told him.
"If I recall," he retorted, "you're annoying."

A few weeks ago, I read an article on Facebook (that arena for all things important and cat-video related) about a capsule wardrobe. This was back before I came up with my Word of the Year, but still the idea resonated with me as something I wanted. The idea is that if you put together a wardrobe of your favorite pieces, that all mix-and-match, you'll have a nearly infinite number of outfit combinations without shopping or having an over-packed closet. (Okay, okay, I know, a mathematically finite number, but NOT THE POINT!)

I HATE shopping, and dressing like a grown-up is not my forte, despite my completely Corporate America job as an accountant at a software company. But, I figured, if I don't have to think about what I'm going to wear, getting dressed will be so much easier! Captain America was concerned I'd get tired of wearing the same things over and over (despite the fact that I'm perfectly content to wear my Harry Potter pajamas every day of the week). (I have matching pants. And I bought them at The Wizarding World of Harry Potter when Captain America took me as an anniversary present. He really does love me!)

Captain America was also concerned about what we'd do with all of my other clothes, but I pointed out to him what the blog pointed out to me: most women own a ton of stuff that doesn't quite fit properly, and therefore they rarely or never wear it. I could just get rid of all of this stuff. The rest I put in those giant vacuum bags and stored under my bed. Because in a few months, I'll probably want to update my capsule wardrobe for fall.

I also realized that while I thought I didn't like wearing dresses or skirts, what I didn't like was shaving my legs. I already knew that I didn't like shaving my legs, but I didn't associate it with my perceived dislike of dresses until on a whim in Target I bought a pair of tights. As a kid, I LOVED tights. As it turns out, I still love tights.

So here I am in one of my capsule closet outfits. I didn't take this picture until the end of the day because I thought it was a little monochromatic, but I received so many compliments at work. One woman even told me I looked like a model! (To be fair, taking selfies is not my forte, either, and so you can't tell, but I'm wearing 4-inch heels. I'm pretty sure that this is what inspired the "model" comment.)

You don't have to be crazy to work here, but it helps!

I just found this from a few months ago, and it still amuses me. 

Jennifer: Wait...so who do you work for now? I should have taken a pic of the org chart!

Virginia: I now work for Marisa

Jennifer: Okay. Frank kicked you and Aaron to the curb!

Virginia: It's like kids at a party...any grown up will do to pour the juice or whatever...any manager will do.

Jennifer: LOL! That's true. Marisa seems like a good manager for career development

Virginia: Yes. And that's what I need, because I am bored to tears. A well-trained monkey in a diaper could do my job. Hell, we could potty train a well-trained monkey!

Jennifer: Thanks for thinking of the carpet.

Virginia: Well, we just had the carpet replaced! And, there'd be the added bonus that the monkey could demonstrate Frank's banana-opening theory. 

Jennifer: We'd have to lock the peanut M&Ms up. I hope the monkey likes donuts. The monkey could also eat the rotting leftovers.

Virginia: Do monkeys eat leftovers? I know pigs do, but they don't have opposable thumbs.

Jennifer: We could make a pig pen as part of space planning.

Virginia: All of the zoo animals that interact with the public have a companion animal...my monkey could have a companion pig to eat the leftovers! And when the pig gets old...instant bacon! Or did I just cross a line?

Jennifer: We could bury it in the volleyball court and have a luau.

Virginia: OMG! YOU ARE SO RIGHT! Best idea ever! Let me tell Marisa we need to hire a monkey in a diaper so it can have a companion pig so we can have a luau! And we'll have revenge on the product team that didn't invite us to their party!

Jennifer: Yes!

Virginia: Nothing tastes better than sweet revenge...except when that revenge tastes like pork!

Jennifer: Haha!

Virginia: OMG! why aren't WE running this company yet?

Jennifer: Right?! Give us a little more time and there will be piglets roaming these halls!

Virginia: I totally went to grad school to run shit. I did NOT go to grad school to accrue severance.

Jennifer: Fact!

Virginia: We live in California...people seem to think they can take their dogs everywhere with them. It's only a matter of time before people take their monkeys and companion pigs with them everywhere, too. We just want to be on the front end of that trend.

Be Gentle with Yourself

My life is in shambles. I haven't made it to CrossFit all week, with the exception of Yoga on Wednesday. Yes, this is what constitutes "shambles" for me. Which I realize is highly melodramatic. I mean, my husband and I both have good jobs, we have a nice house, our friends and family are basically happy and healthy. We have really good lives.

And yet, every time I have a week or so of not doing something consistently, especially something I enjoy, I feel like my entire world has fallen apart.

This week, some of the problem has been due to scheduling--I've had a lot going on after work, which is  my fallback position for when I don't make it to CrossFit in the morning. Also, we spent Sunday celebrating a cousin's birthday, so none of my usual Sunday routines to get ready for the work week happened.

It occurred to me while thinking about this post that many people probably have a thing like this--a thing that they enjoy doing that they just haven't managed to get to for a while because there are other things going on in their lives. Or maybe that they haven't felt like doing, even though they also feel like they should be doing it.

This is especially problematic for me because I suffer from (am living with?) chronic depression. I suppose in the whole scheme of depressed people, mine isn't that bad. I've never been in a position where I couldn't get out of bed. I don't know if that's because I'm strong-willed, less depressed than others, or because my depression started in about 6th grade and there was no way my mother was going to let me lie in bed all day instead of going to school.

Anyway, the problem with not feeling like doing something when you have depression is that it's very hard to tell if you don't want to do something because you're depressed, which would indicate that your depression is worsening, or your medications have stopped working or whatever (I'm not a doctor, this is just my experience). On the other hand, I'm sure non-depressed people have weeks where they don't feel like doing something and all it means to them is that they need a break from it.

I had a boyfriend once who, when I was in the throes of negative talk about everything I wasn't getting done, would say to me, when you beat yourself up like this it makes me sad, because you're beating up my sweetie.

While that relationship is long gone, I try to remember those words. Because it's helpful to remember that even when you're not happy with yourself, chances are good there's someone else who loves you just the way you are. Look at yourself from their perspective: do the people who love me care that I've missed a week of CrossFit? Probably not, or at least not in a way that they're disappointed in me about it.  Do they care that I missed out on my Sunday get-ready-for-work routine? Again, probably not (honestly, they probably can't even tell).

We all have busy, messy lives, and I think it's important to remember to be gentle with our selves when we're not doing everything we thing we should be doing, or even want to be doing. Don't beat yourself up
over something you didn't do today because there's always tomorrow to try again, and no one is perfect.

Not enough experience

This is a picture of Cape Disappointment Lighthouse

In the past week, I've had two different sets of disappointing news at work. The first is that I will not be going to India to teach business skills to women in rural villages (how awesome is that opportunity!), and the second is that I'm not being considered for a position in our Finance department because they are looking for someone with more experience.

I understand. I really do. They want someone with 5 years finance experience. I have about a decade of accounting experience. That sounds like the same thing to someone not in the field, but it's really not. It's really actually a fundamentally different way of looking at data.

There are a few things about this decision that trouble me. The first is that when I looked over the job description and talked with the managers, everything sounded like stuff I can do. Because I'm smart. And I have a degree in Finance. And because the accounting work at my last company was both more complex and more analytic-based than what I'm currently doing.

This is a picture of a disappointed boy. I think it looks like Sad Christopher Robin. 

The second troubling thing is that I really want out of accounting. Accounting is dull. (I'm sure people in finance might argue that finance is dull, but that's not the point.) The point is, I never meant to become an accountant. I meant to use accounting as a way of getting a job after college, and as a way of getting into a good company so I could eventually do something useful. Well, I've had no problems getting jobs. I'm at a good company. It's apparently the next step that I'm struggling with.

To be fair, I've been at my current company less than two years. It's just that I've been an accountant FOREVER. When I went to grad school, I had no idea that almost 5 years after graduating, I would still have the exact same title on my resume than I did before grad school. Somehow that seems to miss the point of all of those classes (and all of that  money we spent).

As I understand it, the people who don't want to hire me for their finance roles do want to use me for some project work, which is both good and bad. The good side is that they'll get to see how amazing I am and that will hopefully make them more inclined to hire me when another role opens. The bad side is that I'll essentially be doing finance work for free. Sure my hours and my salary will stay the same, but there is a definite pay jump between my level in accounting and the equivalent level in finance.

On the bright side, until they decide what to do with me, I have time to blog at work.