First week back

My first week back at work wasn't horrible. There were only a few hiccups getting a defiant almost four year old out the door on time. I'm so thankful work from home. I don't have to rush or feel bad if I log on a few minutes late (or if I need extra time securing that victory Starbucks). Or dress up if I don't want to. And I can pump in the privacy and comfort of my own home. It also helped that Jonathan was home this week to bond with Isla before she sets off to daycare end of next week. 

I was still stressed thinking about a major website relaunch happening this week that required way too many brain cells that somehow burned up while on maternity leave, but that even went better than I hoped.

Or maybe I'm just learning there is only so much work life interfere with your family time.

This happened this week: 

Isla finally took a pacifier and a bottle (Born Free by the way). Daddy was super patient and after a couple tries learned that milk from a bottle is just as good! Girlfriend I think is going to end up having an appetite her brother never had. 

Isla turned 10 weeks. Was she ever a newborn? I feel as if those sleepy cuddly days are hazy memories that are fading fast. We have an alert social baby who is killing it at tummy time. It helps that every time we put her on the floor Vincent is right there to entertain (and sometimes annoy) her. He's such an amazing big brother! 

We had one rough night. Up every hour. Sleep deprivation is cruel. I earned those black eye circles. I deserve a medal. All mama bears do. I also learned there is a new kind of tired when you have two and one kept you up all night. It was painful, but we lived. Coffee helped. A lot.

When you're a sleep-deprived mama, it's important to do little things to lift your spirit. Like wearing a sweet bracelet from your sister to remind you how blessed you are. Forever. 

It was a good week. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

 

 

New new new

Jonathan started his job, and the best thing: how much more time (and help) we have together as a family. Vincent now gets to sleep until 7 versus 5:15, I take him to school and log in for work at my usual time of 8:45, he gets picked up at 4 (which might get later should Jonathan decide to start working out after work), and dinner is on the table by 5:30 or 6 (Jonathan wasn't even getting home until 6:30 or later with his old job). The byproduct of all this: I can cook dinners while he plays with Vincent, Vincent is happier with more sleep, and more stuff can get done around the house in the evening. It's a win-win-win. We're still working on getting the routine down since the holdiays throw everything off. But I'll take these couple weeks of chaos for a all around happier family!

But, but

One thing I've always known about myself: I'm not a leader. I'm the best damn second in command you'll ever have though, but when you work in journalism (and I'm sure this is true for many professions), you have to be your own leader, and it's a constant struggle for me. I like collaborating. I love taking ideas and perfecting them. But to lead, brew ideas and serve them up, not my cup of tea. 

In my professional career lately I haven't been giving it my all. Contributors to this: a weak boss (who isn't a leader and more often than not expects me to lead), poor pay, and a disconnected company. I hope in the next few years I can move on to something else, something hopefully out of publishing and much more gratifying. Yes, yes, magazines are wonderful, when you're not reading them for errors and content; oh, and when the subject isn't about cable connectors and PAs. I'm sure that a different subject matter might be more exciting, but the production would still be the same. So for now, I'm thinking I better dig my heels in, refresh what I did learn once upon a time in a leadership class, and put on the conductors hat. Toot toot!

Pushing myself

I've had back to back freelance projects lately. This is on top of applying and interviewing for jobs. I'm feeling great about the freelance. It's really a positive change for me to take on more writing and even make some extra money. It's the job search that's killing me emotionally.
In my field, you apply for a job with your resume, a cover letter, and usually a job application. If they like what they see, and for me, they usually do since I'm in the senior level of my field, they call you for a phone interview, followed by two to three in-person interviews. These interviews are usually panels, and the questions range from the basic (what are your strengths) to the irritating (tell me time when something went wrong. how did you solve it?). I have been reading about how companies are asking more questions to gauge your emotional intelligence (how do you handle conflicts with co-workers?) I'm not the most eloquent speaker. I'm a writer who requires time and thoughtfulness to create smooth, clean, and interesting copy, and even then I'm pretty technical. Face to face, I end up coming off as flaky. No matter how much I prepare, I seem to always be holding myself back despite my experience, best effort, and intentions. Afterward I drag myself down thinking what I could do differently or how I could have answered that question better. No amount of wine, chocolate, or Starbucks can usually make me feel better. I can only sit with the feeling long enough that I become indifferent. Today I began to wonder if I'm just not cut out for this line of work. Do you do that? Do you give yourself enough praise or do you critic to the point of exhaustion?

Another step in this process is writing post-interview thank you notes to each person in the panel. That means today I wrote five thank you notes. What's more, I caught errors after sending them. Don't worry, I proofed them—apparently. There is no margin of error in this field when it comes to grammatical mistakes. So I'm sure that will go over well. Hmm, I think I have another bottle of wine in fridge.

Here's my dream job

As I experience job woes, I'm finding myself thinking more and more what I'd want to do or where I would want to end up at. One thing is for certain: I'd want to work for myself.

My dream would be this: I would open a store that melds all my loves together. Chai lattes. Check. Yoga. Check. Knitting. Check. Socializing. Check. I imagine a store that provides a place to experience community. A place where you look forward to going to, and, forgive me, where everyone knows your name. It would be a fun, funky shop where I could sell the things I love. Things that make you feel better about yourself, brings you inspiration, makes you a happier, nicer person, and a place where you look forward to going to. A place you could come everyday to get your daily dose of whatever you need. Whether it be a familiar face, an asana, a book, or a chai. Where you don't find near postal employees. Where everyone is happy (or if they aren't happy, we can make them happy).

This is my dream job. A store with a little soul. A little slice of heaven. Just what the world needs, eh?

I wonder why I even care

My company is in dire straits. Or at least it feels like dire straits when investors are breathing down your neck because we're not making the profits we used to. (Maybe you should manage your money better then. T&E has been ridiculous in the last years I've been working with this company.) It's depressing. And I'm wondering why I even cared about journalism to begin with. I'm career depressed. Because if I don't write and edit for a living, what do I do?

I still have a job but

we're going to furlough for the summer. The amount that I won't see in my paycheck because of this will be spread out through the end of the year as to "lessen the burden." I think I'm going to start using my work from home privileges more to cut down on the cost of my commute (36 miles each way). Jonathan could be getting furloughed too, so I'm going to have to really watch my spending now. I hope I won't have to say goodbye to yoga.

The thing that really sucks about this is that it's holding up doing things like buying a house, getting Jonathan a new car, maybe a European vacation, or even a kid. I tell myself the wait will be worth it. I would hate to have one of those nasty mortgages hanging over our head, and we want to be responsible about it and put down the customary 10%. If only everyone would do that maybe we wouldn't be in this place to begin with. I'm beginning to think while the retirement generation is sucking our social security dry, my generation seems to think everything should come to them on a silver platter with wings. I'm ready for this country to get back to rooted values where earning a dollar meant hard work.

If only I took my own advice, I might not have as much debt too.

In need of inspiration

I'm supposed to be writing. And not in this favorite little space of mine. Real writing. For work. By day, I'm a magazine editor for Sound & Video Contractor (SVC), millimeter, and Digital Content Producer. I'll have been at this job for four years in July. In that time, I'm gone from strictly an editor to writing and becoming more involved with SVC's industry. Some days, I really love my job and how far I've come in my position. Some days, I really hate my job and wonder why I even want to write in the first place. I think it comes down to the fact that if I ever want to go to another job, I have something to show for it. Most editing position require that you write, which wasn't something my current job required. Now I know why: It's hard to find the time to write! Which is why I'm writing on my days off, trying to find some motivation and inspiration to write about the video and sound systems at a casino theater. If only I could make money laying around blogging all day. If only.

Did someone say yoga?

Warning: Yoga addiction may cause blog neglect, family neglect, and an extreme sense of euphoria (especially when discussing yoga with others).

Yesterday, I took three yoga class, one at lunch and two last night. My body is surprisingly unsore, maybe a little noodle-like, but who couldn't use a bit of noodle in their body?

My company is doing a 12-week program where you tally up your miles of exercise, weigh yourself, get your blood pressure, and measure your body fat mass, hence the extreme yoga-takingness. At the kickoff meeting, I announced to the group that unlimited passes to the studio I go to are only $95. The looks I got! It amazes me that people will spend that much on junk food every week and not bat on eye, but God-forbid they actually bring exercise, peace, and well-being to their lives. Glad I'm learning compassion at the same time!

Eesh, I sound like a yoga snob, but really, is that a bad thing?

In my work hole

Hello? Down here. Yes, in this dark hole. I'm working, on my freelance editing gig. I don't have anything else to talk about or anything else to say until it's over for the month. Til then, go check out my favorites.

A Capricious Perspective just decorated for fall. Yes, fall. She crazy. Or check out my blog vice, celebrity babies. Totally weird, I know. But the people who read it are just as fascinating. They even post where you can get outfits celebrity moms-to-be or celebrity kids wear. Is that not creepy? You can dress your kid (if you can afford it) like Suri or Violet. Okay, maybe I'm the creep for even finding it. Then there's Mandy's Musings, which always cracks me up. She has a burger thing. Wanna burger recommendation? Go there. She's a pro having sampled burgers across the nation.

So check out my favorites until I come up for air, in which I write you a spellbinding post. Auvoir!

Just the motivation I needed

Today was one of those days. I woke up cranky; I showered and dressed cranky; I drove to work cranky; I worked cranky, until it was time to head to the Plaza to enjoy a nice steak linner (lunch/dinner) during the regional ASBPE awards banquet. The editorial staff didn't take anything home, but Amanda won a much-deserved award for one of her masterful design creations. Way to go Amanda!

Besides the steak, listening to the speaker talk about his many awards and how his publication wins so many (he even choked up at one point talking about his win for an editorial letter he wrote about his friend dying of brain cancer; it broke my heart, and it made me want to go work for him), it gave me just the motivation and turnabout I needed for my day and renewed spirit for my job. After watching and listening to other publications accept awards, I wanted one myself. So I've decided to set a new goal for myself at work: write a feature. I've never written anything longer than 1200 words, so writing an in-depth feature will require lots of time I'm not sure I have. If I plan it right, though, I can take a few months to research and write. Of course, this requires I talk to the Big Heads, but I'm sure they'll be fine with it; it's free labor. And just maybe next year I can snag one of those awards myself. Now I just have to hold myself to the goal. It's all about follow through.


Music mood: The Hives, "Try It Again"

When you're worn out

I hate to just leave posts complaining, but man, I'm tired. Between Vegas, work, more work, and being sick, I feel, well, sick. I'm so ready to just spend a weekend sleeping and watching movies; basically, I want to do nothing that involves moving my butt off the couch.

I'll be starting Barefoot soon (once I have time to buy the book). Check out the virtual book club I'm a part of.

Vegas, work, sick, and an MRI

So, I'm back. Can't say that I ever want to go to Vegas again. I was working the entire time. Working hard. Even when I was out at night eating dinner with Sharp executives and riding home in provided limos all by my lonesome. It was hard work. I started feeling sick Thursday night. My throat was on fire. In the mirror I could see little red pustules on the back of my throat. Where'd you come from? Go away. Don't you know I can't be sick right now and having you hanging out on the back of my throat? Probably didn't help that I didn't drink near enough fluids. I can't help it. I'm not naturally thirsty. Plus, the water in Vegas tasted like crap.

So while I ignored my Urban Times work to work on work work in Vegas, it was a pretty solid trip (read: boring). I came home with a inch-thick stack of business cards, some more industry perspective, put faces with names, and met some other writers and editors with competitor publications. Only in a room full of journalist can you debate the merits of Chicago style vs. AP style. I'm sure Sharp was amused.

Once I got home, I rushed to wrap up Urban Times. Tried to get a little extra sleep to get rid of the sick and the little guys hanging out on the back of my throat. I also went to a wedding, which was fun, but the last thing you want to do when you're sleep-deprived, needing to work, and just plan cranky from traveling is go to a wedding. I'm learning these things. Next time, I will not plan back (work work) to back (freelance) to back (wedding) events in a row. It's no wonder I'm sick.

The icing on the cake: Getting up at the crack of dawn this morning to drive to KC to go get my yearly MRI. I've finally figured out what sound MRI machines make (they're very loud; if you ever get one, just be prepared for "loud noises."): MRIs are like a compilation of jack hammers, hammers, loud humming...basically any noise you'd hear on a construction site, but 20 times more repetitive and loud. Thankfully, I only had to get an MRI of the brain this time, not of both the brain and the spine. It was only a mere 45 minutes instead of an hour. I could be exaggerating, but not having a watch, that's how long it feels.

Viva Las Vegas

I'm heading to Las Vegas today and I won't be back until Friday (unless I get abducted), and then I have a wedding to attend and work to do, so until then, just keep track of me here. It's nothing exciting, but as long as I post something daily, I haven't been abducted and I'm really vive à Las Vegas.

Another one bites the dust

I just put another issue of Urban Times to bed. Thirty-four long hours went into this issue, along with a bit of my sanity and patience. Right now, I'm doing a little jig. Tomorrow, we will venture to the arboretum I have talked about, with promises of pictures. Until then, good night. Have a happy Memorial Day!

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If you're wondering about Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, the ending took me by complete surprise, and probably not a good surprise. One word: aliens, nuf said. But that ol' Harrison was HOT!

When work takes over, have a picnic

We didn't get anywhere near our plans of going to the arboretum yesterday. I was stuck on the computer much of the day proofing PDFs of the latest issue of Urban Times. But by the end of the day, I was needing to get out. Must. get. out.

It was too late to go to the movies, unless we wanted to go to the really late one, where teeny boppers rule the roost and annoy the heck out of you. It was also too late to go to the bookstore and browse if we wanted to go grocery shopping as well. So after I put together our menu for the week, looking over cookbooks and checking out the Chicken Chicken Mole and Mexican Red Rice (we watched Simply Delicioso's Ingrid Hoffman earlier that day) for our Memorial Day feast, we headed to Super Target to get our weekly shopping done and grant me a little get-out-of-the-house sanity and give my eyes a rest.

We also decided that this weekend should be really fun when I wasn't working. And one of the things we wanted to do was a wine, fancy cheese, strawberries, grapes, bread, pound cake, and melted chocolate for dipping smorgasbord. After returning from our shopping trip, I laid out a blanket on our living room floor and we had an indoor picnic. It was so fun! We talked about work (bleh, I know!) and what kind parents we would be. It was great just to have that time with the TV off, the computer powered down, and just enjoy each other's company—and yum yum food.

Here's what made up our indoor picnic:

Havarti cheese (This is a wonderful soft cheese to eat with fruit. It's really rich, so I recommend a lighter fare cheese to go with it.)

Gouda cheese (This one paired nicely with the Havarti, but I'm sure there's a better match out there.)

A French baguette (Crusty bread cut into .5in-thick slices—perfect size for the cheese slices.)

Hershey's Bliss chocolate pieces melted fondue-style. I normally use Dove chocolates, but they're hard to find when it's not a holiday. These were just the same. Good find. (We didn't break out the big fondue pot just for a few pieces of chocolate, instead we used our little Fondue au chocolat pot that heats with a tea light. Thanks Sis for getting that for us. You're right, it's very useful.)

Strawberries and green grapes

Blackberry Mead from the Pirtle Winery in Weston, Mo.

One blanket

Candles (make it romantic!)

Security is a big pain

This week my work just implemented a policy that you have to have your key card to ride the elevator now that we are sharing the building with other tenants on the first floor. It's such a pain.

I had always prided myself on not having to wear some hideous badge everywhere like Jonathan does working for the state. Now, my key card is hooked to my clothing with a killer fob where ever I go. I say killer because I think if needed, I could strangle somebody with it because it's only this tiny little rope, like a miniature retractable dog leash. In an age where everyone is security paranoid, it's going a little overboard in my book to make the elevators accessible only by key card. What are the tenants going to do? Rob of us of our crappy computers. I welcome the opportunity for them to do that. I think if anyone tried to rob us, they'd take one look around and think they were transported back in time. Maybe they could make some money—off our antiques!

All I can say is: don't meet me in the parking lot. I'm armed.

I know to how to procrastinate

Ugh. Must work. Want to procrastinate. It's 8 o'clock and there's several things I should be doing right now instead of writing here. But I have fans. Fans who lovingly check this blog everyday for new posts. So here I sit at my kitchen table chowing down the chocolate chip cookies J.L. bought be as a surprise (he knows the way to my heart).

Things I must get done:
Edit PDFs for Urban Times
Edit copy for Urban Times
Transcribe interview for an article I'm writing for my day job
Write said article

Here's the timeline of my procrastination:
5-Drive home from work
5:45-Get on treadmill (This can't count as procrastination because technically exercise is one of my goals; it just necessarily shouldn't be at the top of my priority list when I have a list of Things I must get done)
6:21-Call sister, proceed to talk for more than an hour
7:32-Call another sister, proceed to talk for 45 minutes
8:08-Eat chocolate chip cookies and wonder how I can waste some more time
8:09-Write this blog entry

Amazing how you can find something to do when you should really be doing something else, but then you can't find anything to do when you're bored.

Down goes the folic acid

Before you ask, no, I'm not pregnant. No where close. Even the tiniest bit. But maybe next year or the year after or the year after (no, I'm not a procrastinator), with any luck—if everything falls into place with finding a home, work load getting lighter, and all the necessities that a baby requires. I read recently that women of childbearing age should take folic acid before getting pregnant. So I figured I would start now and make it part of my routine. The other part of my preparing for Jessaca to be a mommy (crazy, I know; I must have lost my mind): changing my medication to a once daily shot (ugh!). The current shot I take to maintain my MS is a three-times a week shot, but it's not rated safe by the FDA to take while trying to conceive/early pregnancy. So, just because I can only imagine conception as a pretty stressful time (heh!), and then add to the fact that I would need to change to a more frequent shot, I decided to just do all the ugly stuff now. I'm all about being prepared. The downfall is that my poor skin where I give my shots currently is so sore, that I can only image what doing a shot once a day is going to do to it. Woe is me. Really, I'm lucky. At least there is a medication I can take that is safe. And really, doing a once-daily shot doesn't scare me as much as being a mommy. Me? A mom? Hahahahahahahaha.

A flight from work

Last night after work, Amanda and I met up with our former coworker, Andrea, at JP Wine Bar. I really needed to go out after weeks of working to the bone. After reading about JP in Urban Times, I thought it might be a great place to go downtown.

I liked the atmosphere. The crowd was older, the music was soft, if you could hear it over the rather loud din of voices. I chose the Northern Lights wine flight ($10.50). The cool thing about the flight is you can sample flavors in a group and find a wine you really like. Northern Lights was right-on. Light and not too sweet. I little pricey considering that the flight constituted a full glass of wine. For fuel, I ate the Parmesan Gnocchi small plate. Small plate it was, but with a $13 price tag of what would be a big plate of food somewhere else. It was good, but I'd rather spend my money on actual dinner. In all: A good place to go with group for a glass of wine after having a fulfilling meal elsewhere.