My husband and I met in college. I was running a student theatre company, and he was brought on to stage manage a show I was producing (and acting in). We fell in love working together, and we've continued to always work really well together. A dream of ours is to one day own a family business or something where we can make our family unit and working lives come together. Most people find this frightening or horrific and would run in the opposite direction if told to work with their spouse, but we've always thrived this way. We practically run our household like a business, and rarely have conflicts over things like finances or household responsibilities.
Our love has always been of the "comfortable best friend" kind. At the end of the day, we simply love to talk with each other. Don't get me wrong, we argue and get mad at each other like the next couple. But there is no one in the world I would rather just sit down and talk with, and no one who I feel like understands me the same way. We just "get" each other.
So why am I choosing to focus on Romance now? Seems like we've got it pretty good, right? Well, we DO have it pretty darn good, but like everything else, it's not perfect, and Romance is what can sometime go missing in a "best friend" relationship like ours. I don't mean that we lack in intimate moments--we continue to have a sex life, even post-child. But, the main issue is just that we've been together over seven years now and are starting to get, well, routine. We know each other so well, and are so comfortable, that sometimes we get stuck in a rut. We just forget to be, well, romantic. So, yes, sometimes that bleeds into the sex life, but when it does, it's really a symptom of a larger issue. Simply put, we are running the risk of becoming romantically boring.
What can we do to remind each other that we're more than roommates with benefits, or the joint parents of a needy child, or financial partners, or the only people we can fart and pee in front of? What can we do to remind each other that we are MORE than just best friends?
Sounds bad, but sometimes we need a reminder--an Oh, yeah! We don't just love each other, we are In Love with each other!
From everything I've seen and read about relationships, you'd be hard pressed to find a surviving long-term couple that didn't stress the necessity of constantly working on their relationship. Marriages don't just stay in one place--they shift and change, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, but always moving. And, often, they just need attention to make sure things are going on the right track.
So that's where I am this month. And, luckily, I have a best friend in the exact same predicament.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
Today, I did not fail
I know this will come as no surprise, but the truth is it has been so hard to keep myself motivated to write these past couple of weeks. And not just write, but continue my personal exploration in any way. I've reached a hump.
Part of it is that I have had way less "me" time. So when I do have it, I've been indulging in things like sleeping or reading or watching TED talks (which I have now become obsessed with).
Part of it is that I have a job now that doesn't allow me to sit and write a blog entry whenever I want.
Most of it has been that I just haven't made myself a priority. It happens when you want to be a good mom, a good wife, and a good daughter/sister/friend. When I want to be all these things, AND the most amazing employee in the world, I can put myself on the back burner a little too long.
So when a friend of ours told us he was having a birthday bash tonight at a nice restaurant and dance club, and only one of us could attend while the other stayed home with the Toddler, I happily let the hubby have the night out. It was a rare night: extrovert that I am, I'm usually raising my hand like a Hermione Granger in Charms class to "Pick Me!" to go out on a Friday night with friends, and, introvert that the hubby is, he is usually desperately avoiding any situation that someone would remotely insinuate public movement to music. But, he's been home all week with the "More-Like-A-Toddler-Every-Day" son, and I am in major need of personal time, so we did a sudden personality reversal.
In a Room of My Own
Tonight, once the Toddler was in bed, I told myself I would write. Not really to solve anything or explore anything new. Just to admit to the fact that this past month--though successful in many ways, like getting a job--has been a complete and utter failure in the "making myself a better person and figuring shit out" way.
For instance, I can't even talk about how bad I've been in the Health category. I changed jobs, and that switched some stuff up, like my commute and how nicely I have to dress (meaning I haven't been walking as much when wearing the heels and choosing not to start biking once the weather turned nice), but that can't be an excuse any longer. The change is complete. Now it's just me standing in my own way. I know when I'm making a bad decision, and I make it anyway. I know when I'm choosing to take the easy way out, and I do it anyway. When it comes to health, or self-discipline in any area, we have to make good decisions every day. We can't let up. We have to make that choice to be self-disciplined, to be better, every day.
Well, I've let up. I did not make the right decisions this past month. I kept thinking, "I can worry about it tomorrow, or when my job becomes secure, or when it's not freaking freezing outside, or when there is not cake staring me in the face." (I don't think there has been a day at my new job that has not had some unexpected free dessert show up. Cake, cupcakes, chocolates, cookies. EVERY DAY. I think I've gained ten pounds in two weeks.)
So today is my confessional. I dropped the Caroline ball. I kept the mom ball up, the wife ball (mostly) up, the worker ball soaring, the daughter/sister ball moving in the right direction, and the friend ball going steady. The Caroline ball is lying flat on the floor, deflated.
I failed. And it feels surprisingly good to have that off my chest.
Maybe, through this confessional, I can give myself hope that I can be renewed. That I can regenerate that lost motivation. By finally sitting down, just me and a laptop, I can admit my faults to myself, forgive myself, and maybe become a better person for it.
Today, maybe I made the right decision: I wrote. I can pick that ball up again, and inflate it. That way tomorrow, when I have to make the decision again, I can finally get it back up in the air.
Part of it is that I have had way less "me" time. So when I do have it, I've been indulging in things like sleeping or reading or watching TED talks (which I have now become obsessed with).
Part of it is that I have a job now that doesn't allow me to sit and write a blog entry whenever I want.
Most of it has been that I just haven't made myself a priority. It happens when you want to be a good mom, a good wife, and a good daughter/sister/friend. When I want to be all these things, AND the most amazing employee in the world, I can put myself on the back burner a little too long.
So when a friend of ours told us he was having a birthday bash tonight at a nice restaurant and dance club, and only one of us could attend while the other stayed home with the Toddler, I happily let the hubby have the night out. It was a rare night: extrovert that I am, I'm usually raising my hand like a Hermione Granger in Charms class to "Pick Me!" to go out on a Friday night with friends, and, introvert that the hubby is, he is usually desperately avoiding any situation that someone would remotely insinuate public movement to music. But, he's been home all week with the "More-Like-A-Toddler-Every-Day" son, and I am in major need of personal time, so we did a sudden personality reversal.
In a Room of My Own
Tonight, once the Toddler was in bed, I told myself I would write. Not really to solve anything or explore anything new. Just to admit to the fact that this past month--though successful in many ways, like getting a job--has been a complete and utter failure in the "making myself a better person and figuring shit out" way.
For instance, I can't even talk about how bad I've been in the Health category. I changed jobs, and that switched some stuff up, like my commute and how nicely I have to dress (meaning I haven't been walking as much when wearing the heels and choosing not to start biking once the weather turned nice), but that can't be an excuse any longer. The change is complete. Now it's just me standing in my own way. I know when I'm making a bad decision, and I make it anyway. I know when I'm choosing to take the easy way out, and I do it anyway. When it comes to health, or self-discipline in any area, we have to make good decisions every day. We can't let up. We have to make that choice to be self-disciplined, to be better, every day.
Well, I've let up. I did not make the right decisions this past month. I kept thinking, "I can worry about it tomorrow, or when my job becomes secure, or when it's not freaking freezing outside, or when there is not cake staring me in the face." (I don't think there has been a day at my new job that has not had some unexpected free dessert show up. Cake, cupcakes, chocolates, cookies. EVERY DAY. I think I've gained ten pounds in two weeks.)
So today is my confessional. I dropped the Caroline ball. I kept the mom ball up, the wife ball (mostly) up, the worker ball soaring, the daughter/sister ball moving in the right direction, and the friend ball going steady. The Caroline ball is lying flat on the floor, deflated.
I failed. And it feels surprisingly good to have that off my chest.
Maybe, through this confessional, I can give myself hope that I can be renewed. That I can regenerate that lost motivation. By finally sitting down, just me and a laptop, I can admit my faults to myself, forgive myself, and maybe become a better person for it.
Today, maybe I made the right decision: I wrote. I can pick that ball up again, and inflate it. That way tomorrow, when I have to make the decision again, I can finally get it back up in the air.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Career Wrap Up....if you can call it that
Well, my first week at the new job has been FANTASTIC. The man I'm assisting is awesome, we seem to work well together, and he told me once already that he was impressed. Score! I think it's going to be great.
But here comes the real question: where does it get me? Am I on a career trajectory that will pay off ten years from now? One might think that taking a job as an "Office Manager/Executive Assistant" may not be a clear and defined path on the way to riches and stability, so I feel the need to explain a few lessons I've learned in my first six/seven years of post-graduate working adult life (and therefore why this job is the perfect job for me)...
A) I never intend to be "rich," and I'm totally okay with that. I'm better than okay with it, it's what I want. If I had a passion or "calling" that led me to a life of wealth, great. But right now I don't. If I wanted wealth badly enough, I have no doubt that I could be successful in any number of fields that would lead to it. But I don't. I don't want to spend my life making money, I want to spend my life living.
B) The things I am passionate about are not things that will make me money. Period. They are writing, theatre, knitting, food, continual learning, sustainable homesteading, and reading. So if I can't make money doing what I love, then I need to have a job that leaves me ample time, energy, and opportunity to do what I love on the side. That means low on the stress level, not much overtime, a pleasant place to be, a place where I might be able to network or make connections related to my hobbies, good enough pay and benefits so I don't have to worry, and a place that is easy to leave behind and not think about too much when I'm not there.
When I went into this job search, I thought about the movie Sabrina (random I know, but go with it). In it, Sabrina's father is the chauffeur for an insanely wealthy family, we're talking the kind of wealth that's like modern day royalty. Sabrina and her father lived in a small servant's apartment on the estate, their apartment stacked high with books in every nook and cranny (her father was a passionate reader). She grew up in the shadow of all this wealth, never feeling like she could be part of their elite society. Toward the end of the movie, she finds out that her father, just a lowly servant, is actually a multimillionaire. Stunned, she can't understand why he ever chose to stay as the chauffeur once he gained enough wealth to be free and do something else with his life. He simply says, "It gave me something to do and the opportunity to read my books. I am happy here. Why would I ever leave it?" (I'm quoting from memory--I'm sure I got the words wrong but you get the picture.)
That's what I want.
C) I need to worry less about the future. While temping, I was forced to live "in the moment"--my job could vanish, I could be temping somewhere else the next day, I could get another job--anything could happen and the future was completely up in the air. I was so much happier. I wasn't worrying so much about the future because I felt (pretty rightly) like I had no control over it. I was making ends meet today, and I was working on stabilizing tomorrow but it was mostly out of my hands.
I'm not saying I'm going to start completely disregarding the future, like not saving for retirement or something stupid like that, but I do think I've thought WAY too much about the uncontrollable future in a way that is unhealthy. I can't control the future--and worrying about it is just one way of trying to control it. Will my job exist in five years? Will I still be happy in my current career? Will I be skinny or fat? Will I have gray hair? Will I have hit the lottery and not need to work ever again? Will I even be alive? Who the fuck knows! I can't worry about that. I need to be about today. Am I happy today? That answer is what matters most.
D) I don't need to have it all figured out, because I will never figure it all out. A career is not a destination, and it doesn't even have to be the thing that determines the nature of the journey. The rest of my life can pick the path, and the career can conform to what I need it to be. I'm going to be trying to figure out this life for the duration of it--I might as well be comfortable and happy while doing it.
-----
I'm not exaggerating when I say that I think I've found the perfect job. I wouldn't let myself hope in the beginning, but every day I've grown more and more excited that this may work out and actually be all that I hoped it would be. There are a few more "tests" this job needs to pass (mainly a stress test--what will it be like when everyone is crazy stressed out and the pressure is on?), but so far all the indicators are moving in the right direction.
With that said, I think I can safely put career on the back burner. Though I may not have written about all my thoughts and revelations, I can definitively say this has been a very insightful and productive month. I never dreamed I would leave this topic with an actual job, let alone one that may be everything I wished for. I feel like I should go play the lottery or something.
Next, I have to tackle Spirituality. Shit.
But here comes the real question: where does it get me? Am I on a career trajectory that will pay off ten years from now? One might think that taking a job as an "Office Manager/Executive Assistant" may not be a clear and defined path on the way to riches and stability, so I feel the need to explain a few lessons I've learned in my first six/seven years of post-graduate working adult life (and therefore why this job is the perfect job for me)...
A) I never intend to be "rich," and I'm totally okay with that. I'm better than okay with it, it's what I want. If I had a passion or "calling" that led me to a life of wealth, great. But right now I don't. If I wanted wealth badly enough, I have no doubt that I could be successful in any number of fields that would lead to it. But I don't. I don't want to spend my life making money, I want to spend my life living.
B) The things I am passionate about are not things that will make me money. Period. They are writing, theatre, knitting, food, continual learning, sustainable homesteading, and reading. So if I can't make money doing what I love, then I need to have a job that leaves me ample time, energy, and opportunity to do what I love on the side. That means low on the stress level, not much overtime, a pleasant place to be, a place where I might be able to network or make connections related to my hobbies, good enough pay and benefits so I don't have to worry, and a place that is easy to leave behind and not think about too much when I'm not there.
When I went into this job search, I thought about the movie Sabrina (random I know, but go with it). In it, Sabrina's father is the chauffeur for an insanely wealthy family, we're talking the kind of wealth that's like modern day royalty. Sabrina and her father lived in a small servant's apartment on the estate, their apartment stacked high with books in every nook and cranny (her father was a passionate reader). She grew up in the shadow of all this wealth, never feeling like she could be part of their elite society. Toward the end of the movie, she finds out that her father, just a lowly servant, is actually a multimillionaire. Stunned, she can't understand why he ever chose to stay as the chauffeur once he gained enough wealth to be free and do something else with his life. He simply says, "It gave me something to do and the opportunity to read my books. I am happy here. Why would I ever leave it?" (I'm quoting from memory--I'm sure I got the words wrong but you get the picture.)
That's what I want.
C) I need to worry less about the future. While temping, I was forced to live "in the moment"--my job could vanish, I could be temping somewhere else the next day, I could get another job--anything could happen and the future was completely up in the air. I was so much happier. I wasn't worrying so much about the future because I felt (pretty rightly) like I had no control over it. I was making ends meet today, and I was working on stabilizing tomorrow but it was mostly out of my hands.
I'm not saying I'm going to start completely disregarding the future, like not saving for retirement or something stupid like that, but I do think I've thought WAY too much about the uncontrollable future in a way that is unhealthy. I can't control the future--and worrying about it is just one way of trying to control it. Will my job exist in five years? Will I still be happy in my current career? Will I be skinny or fat? Will I have gray hair? Will I have hit the lottery and not need to work ever again? Will I even be alive? Who the fuck knows! I can't worry about that. I need to be about today. Am I happy today? That answer is what matters most.
D) I don't need to have it all figured out, because I will never figure it all out. A career is not a destination, and it doesn't even have to be the thing that determines the nature of the journey. The rest of my life can pick the path, and the career can conform to what I need it to be. I'm going to be trying to figure out this life for the duration of it--I might as well be comfortable and happy while doing it.
-----
I'm not exaggerating when I say that I think I've found the perfect job. I wouldn't let myself hope in the beginning, but every day I've grown more and more excited that this may work out and actually be all that I hoped it would be. There are a few more "tests" this job needs to pass (mainly a stress test--what will it be like when everyone is crazy stressed out and the pressure is on?), but so far all the indicators are moving in the right direction.
With that said, I think I can safely put career on the back burner. Though I may not have written about all my thoughts and revelations, I can definitively say this has been a very insightful and productive month. I never dreamed I would leave this topic with an actual job, let alone one that may be everything I wished for. I feel like I should go play the lottery or something.
Next, I have to tackle Spirituality. Shit.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Dear Blog, I'm Sorry.
Dear Blog,
Sorry I've neglected you. I've been a bad writer, to be sure, but I was busy! Well, mostly busy. I also really just wanted to spend some of my free time reading. And, I've had WAY less free time than normal, and very little energy, so reading won. Sorry.
So, last time I wrote, I had gotten that weird call about getting a job. Remember?
And then Oliver got his first fever. That's right, 18 months and 10 days without ever getting sick. I don't know how I lucked out. But, that also meant that I got my first freak out session of mommyhood. Pitiful, I know. It was just 101.9, and he was pretty much just cranky for a night and tired for the next day, and that was it. But still. It was Mommy's first fever, and I indulged a little in the fear. Lost a little sleep, not because of him--he didn't wake up once in the middle of the night--just me being silly.
But that led into a random bout of insomnia that the hubby and I both couldn't get ourselves out of. I blame mine on nerves for the new job and the catalyst fever. He has no excuse except a cynical desire to make me lose more sleep. I know, I know...you think insomnia means I should have spent more time with you, Blog. But, computers make my insomnia worse. You understand, right?
Then I had my first two days of training at the new job. I was told to dress nice because there was a board meeting that day. So that was two nights of trying on every article of clothing I own to see what I could come up with. I did well, don't worry Blog, but it was harder than you might think.
So I spent the next weekend shopping. But my time away from you was not for nothing. Oh Blog, I looked goooood. I discovered the power and glory of the thrift store. $100 got me a whole wardrobe. An awesome wardrobe.
But, Blog, I can't even tell you. I had the most awkward two days of training at the new job with the guy I was replacing. Did I mention he had been fired? Yeah. I wish I had started counting the number of times he said, thinking he was lightening the mood by joking, "Now, my job here is--oh--I mean YOUR job...." And then he would laugh at his own joke. He thought he was breaking the tension. I thought he was unhinged. Feel for me, Blog. Feel for me. It was a rough couple of days.
Thankfully, Unhinged Man was the only person I met that I didn't like. The office seems great, the people fantastic, the work easy, and I even got to help out the Chair of the Board with his iPhone. I should probably mention that the Chair of the Board is the President Emeritus of an Ivy League school, and I don't even have an iPhone. I couldn't figure out his problem so I told him to just re-forward the lost email so it showed up in his inbox again. He was impressed and told me I was creative. Oh old people and technology, it's so easy to impress them. Still, made my first two awkward days just a little bit better.
And, I found out the best perk ever with my new job: I get a cake on my birthday. Not just any cake--no cakes from the supermarket with just a choice of yellow or chocolate. Super luxurious rich people cake from a fancy bakery. We're talking almond butter cake with creme brulee filling and chocolate glace. And everyone in the office gets one! That's like a cake a month! I swear I'll save some for you, Blog.
After those two days in the new office, I had to deflate back to my old temp job for just one more week to "train" my replacement. I walked in to find out my boss had been laid off. Whoa. Turns out the other guy in the office who also just sat around and did nothing actually new his shit, and he took over. He delegated. That meant I had work to do, and no time for Blogging :( Thankfully, it was the last week. As I soon learned, I would have hated that job if there was actual work to be done. R.I.P Dead-End Job. R.I.P
As luck would have it, the hubby got sick that week. Please note, he has not been sick for the seven years we've been together. That's right. Outside of two rare and short-lived evenings of food poisoning, he's never been sick. Not a cold, nothing. (Guess we know where the Toddler gets it from.) Needless to say, he needed some attention. Attention I could not spare you, oh Blog. But he is on the mend.
I must confess. I did have a little time I could have spent with you and I didn't. I must apologize. I just didn't know where to begin. So much in just two weeks! But I'm back, so don't worry. I will not be negligent any more. And, please know, if I fall off the radar for a few days, I will be back! And with a whole lot of news to boot.
Yours truly,
Caroline, 29
P.S.--Guess it's time to wrap up the Month O' Careers, eh? Maybe tomorrow?
Sorry I've neglected you. I've been a bad writer, to be sure, but I was busy! Well, mostly busy. I also really just wanted to spend some of my free time reading. And, I've had WAY less free time than normal, and very little energy, so reading won. Sorry.
So, last time I wrote, I had gotten that weird call about getting a job. Remember?
And then Oliver got his first fever. That's right, 18 months and 10 days without ever getting sick. I don't know how I lucked out. But, that also meant that I got my first freak out session of mommyhood. Pitiful, I know. It was just 101.9, and he was pretty much just cranky for a night and tired for the next day, and that was it. But still. It was Mommy's first fever, and I indulged a little in the fear. Lost a little sleep, not because of him--he didn't wake up once in the middle of the night--just me being silly.
But that led into a random bout of insomnia that the hubby and I both couldn't get ourselves out of. I blame mine on nerves for the new job and the catalyst fever. He has no excuse except a cynical desire to make me lose more sleep. I know, I know...you think insomnia means I should have spent more time with you, Blog. But, computers make my insomnia worse. You understand, right?
Then I had my first two days of training at the new job. I was told to dress nice because there was a board meeting that day. So that was two nights of trying on every article of clothing I own to see what I could come up with. I did well, don't worry Blog, but it was harder than you might think.
So I spent the next weekend shopping. But my time away from you was not for nothing. Oh Blog, I looked goooood. I discovered the power and glory of the thrift store. $100 got me a whole wardrobe. An awesome wardrobe.
But, Blog, I can't even tell you. I had the most awkward two days of training at the new job with the guy I was replacing. Did I mention he had been fired? Yeah. I wish I had started counting the number of times he said, thinking he was lightening the mood by joking, "Now, my job here is--oh--I mean YOUR job...." And then he would laugh at his own joke. He thought he was breaking the tension. I thought he was unhinged. Feel for me, Blog. Feel for me. It was a rough couple of days.
Thankfully, Unhinged Man was the only person I met that I didn't like. The office seems great, the people fantastic, the work easy, and I even got to help out the Chair of the Board with his iPhone. I should probably mention that the Chair of the Board is the President Emeritus of an Ivy League school, and I don't even have an iPhone. I couldn't figure out his problem so I told him to just re-forward the lost email so it showed up in his inbox again. He was impressed and told me I was creative. Oh old people and technology, it's so easy to impress them. Still, made my first two awkward days just a little bit better.
And, I found out the best perk ever with my new job: I get a cake on my birthday. Not just any cake--no cakes from the supermarket with just a choice of yellow or chocolate. Super luxurious rich people cake from a fancy bakery. We're talking almond butter cake with creme brulee filling and chocolate glace. And everyone in the office gets one! That's like a cake a month! I swear I'll save some for you, Blog.
After those two days in the new office, I had to deflate back to my old temp job for just one more week to "train" my replacement. I walked in to find out my boss had been laid off. Whoa. Turns out the other guy in the office who also just sat around and did nothing actually new his shit, and he took over. He delegated. That meant I had work to do, and no time for Blogging :( Thankfully, it was the last week. As I soon learned, I would have hated that job if there was actual work to be done. R.I.P Dead-End Job. R.I.P
As luck would have it, the hubby got sick that week. Please note, he has not been sick for the seven years we've been together. That's right. Outside of two rare and short-lived evenings of food poisoning, he's never been sick. Not a cold, nothing. (Guess we know where the Toddler gets it from.) Needless to say, he needed some attention. Attention I could not spare you, oh Blog. But he is on the mend.
I must confess. I did have a little time I could have spent with you and I didn't. I must apologize. I just didn't know where to begin. So much in just two weeks! But I'm back, so don't worry. I will not be negligent any more. And, please know, if I fall off the radar for a few days, I will be back! And with a whole lot of news to boot.
Yours truly,
Caroline, 29
P.S.--Guess it's time to wrap up the Month O' Careers, eh? Maybe tomorrow?
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