Career Success

In a thank you card I received today from a recently married couple whose wedding I attended this summer:

"You are a dancing beast"

I think I can retire now.

Not from dancing. That would be ridiculous.

Let the minimum be the maximum

Hi, friends. Me again.

I did something in my life and I thought I’d share it with you.

a)Because I talk about my life even when people don’t ask.
b)Because I thought you might benefit from learning about this particular instance of something I did in my life.
c)Because sometimes I talk about my life here in a way that has some sort of helping tool attached. 

Sometimes I just talk about cats or slyly talk about boys I have crushes on.

Anyway.

So last night before bed I felt a liiiiittle bit like I was about to exit my relaxing and enjoyable weekend by doing some good old worrying.

So I did that thing that therapists and Oprah and other people tell you to do sometimes: I wrote down the things I was thinking about; in this case, some things I have to do.

Oftentimes I ignore this advice – psh, write things down? People, as if that’s going to get rid of my longstanding history with insomnia. Please. And as for writing? It’s extremely cathartic and, it's like, my thing, but making a list at my bedside is a little different than writing an essay midday as my vocation.

But.

Recently I’ve done some late night scribbling and it’s kind of sort of worked.

Last night, not so much, because I had a headache that was trying to be my best bud and so sleep came more in response to ibuprofen, me thinks, than to my scribbling.

Yeah yeah, you don’t care about the details. What did I write, you ask?

Well.

As we are just around the corner from Thanksgiving, and for some, Chanukah, and for some, Christmas, and for most who use the most popular of calendars these days, New Years – we’re busy, is my point – there is a lot to squeeze in before January 1^st. So I made a list. I'll tell you what kind in a sec. But first:

You know what’s going to happen on January 1^st? We’re all going to wake up and we’re gonna get that racing feeling in our bods and we’re gonna reflexively start thinking about what we have to do next, what is the most pressing on our huge to do list and thus needs to happen first. And we’re gonna think, “Quick. Shower. Coffee. In the car. To work!”

Then we’ll realize it’s January 1^st and that we have the day off.

Some of us will be popping aspirin, too, let’s be honest. I don’t plan to be a part of that crowd, but we’ll see.

And let me just take this opportunity to say

DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE!!

Taxi taxi taxi. Taxi it home, people. Be safe. Your life is precious and so are those of the other people on the road. Let’s give ourselves some respect by protecting ourselves and those around us. Thank you. Also even if you’re not driving, please be careful if you are imbibing, period. Surround yourself with trusted friends and watch out for each other.

I don’t care if I sound like a mom, I will be your mom any day and by the way moms are great.

So after we realize it’s January 1^st and either take our aspirin or make coffee or, like some of you weirdos will do – do something actually productive and responsible like gardening or balancing your checkbook – we will soon realize that we really don’t have that much to do. At least not RIGHT NOW.

But until then we have a lot of RIGHT NOW in our lives. You know I'm right.

Because here’s the thing about this time of year that we're presently in. Everything just, like, gets in your face and smashes around you and everyone’s like, “Christmas presents now! We have to buy them now!” and “We must have egg nog and have ourselves some cliché moment of discussing the holidays and how much we love egg nog and cocoa.”

Etc.

Also, somehow, work becomes more frantic. It just does, have you noticed this? For crying out loud, it's not like we're working for Santa Claus so what is the big rush about??

But I haven’t yet made the point that I set out to make here, so let’s get there shall we?

OK so this list I made last night.

It wasn’t just a “what I need to do, in general” list or a “this is what I’m worried about right this second” list.

It was a list of things that I need or “need” to do before the year is up.

Work is on that list, but I don’t know if I wrote it down, because it’s a given. Get to work by 8, do your thing there, leave at 5. Cool? Cool.

The other stuff is stuff I’ve already signed up for, can’t skip out on, and some things that I want to make happen in the next 45-ish days.

Here’s the key to this list: it’s pretty short, considering all the things I could heap on there.

I could, for example, write on my list: "make adorable cross stitched reindeer stockings for eight of my close personal friends. Write personal note for each stocking and place inside. Hand deliver while singing a Christmas carol. Elf outfit would be cute - might need to go shopping."

a)I would so not have the time for that, even if I took work off my list.
b)Just no. I love to cross stitch, but it is not my ambition to make the cover of Cross Stitch Living this year.

Although that would be great.

Also,

a)Not sure there is a publication called Cross Stitch Living.

Though there are other cross stitch publications that sometimes come with cute little stitch projects and I would love it if I got a subscription for a holiday gift (making it easy here, people, just straight up telling you what I want. Also: boyfriend and cat.)

The list I made last night does not have cross stitching on it at all, because cross stitching will still be there on January 1^st. Needlework is not off limits until January 1^st, mind you, but it’s not required.

One of the things on my list is a half marathon.

I’ve signed up and paid for the half marathon, and I’ve trained. So I’m gonna do it, if my foot holds out.

So on the list I wrote last night I included things like:

• Running outfit [something obnoxious with a lot of green and red and tinsel, if available]
• Get new running shoes
• Get a massage before the race
• Get foot worked on before the race

Honestly, all of these things don’t even need to happen. I could be totally lazy until race day and just show up, without an obnoxious running tutu, in my old shoes, with my injured foot and knots in the muscles of my upper back.

But.

It would be more fun and more comfortable and less debilitating if I do these things pre-race.

But.

I don’t have to do them.

But the run itself is on the list because it’s already on the calendar and it’s going to stay there. Hopefully, if my foot holds out.

I have thought about gifts for friends and family. Last night, as I drove, I imagined and started composing a charming little Christmas letter I could write to friends (because I always drive and rarely write on paper, so I write in my head). I thought of getting Christmas cards in which to place each letter. I thought of printing on green paper and skipping the cards.

It was a charming little Christmas letter. Or the start of one, anyway.

But I didn’t put “Christmas letter” on my list last night.

Because it doesn’t need to happen.

For some of you, it might need to happen. You might have the time. You might be the best and most reliable Christmas letter writer in your neighborhood, or ZIP code even. For you, this might be the thing that needs to stay on your list. Maybe baking gingerbread cookies will be taken off the list in exchange.

I’m here, first, to tell you that you don’t need to write that letter or bake those cookies (or you can bake them and skip the icing) in order to be a validated human being. I mean it. So skip it if you want to, even if people protest. Because I know what it feels like to do things because you’re afraid of what the response will be if you don’t.

The response might be annoying, or at worst, well, worse than annoying. But you can survive the response and stand your ground and come out as a validated human being who maybe enjoyed an extra glass of egg nog this year and felt like you actually got to see the holiday lights instead of experiencing them as a blur.

As the weeks move forward for me, things will very likely start to fall off my list, like ornaments falling from a heaping wheelbarrow hitting bumps. (Why I have ornaments in a wheelbarrow, I don't know). Once they meet the ground, they will smash, won’t be that pretty anymore, and I won’t really give a gingerbread cookie about their fate at that point.

If I don’t buy a running tutu for my race, whooooooo carrrrrrrres?

I signed up to do the race, not wear a tutu.

It occurred to me today:

I made a list of the minimum that needs to happen.

Yet my minimum is really what I am allowing to be my maximum.

Obviously I will eat and sleep and things, though I didn’t write those down (sometimes I do, no joke. “Lunch” has been written on many a list in my life).

So I am here to suggest to you, though you do not have to take my advice, to:

Let the minimum be the maximum.

Figure out what you really care about in the next six weeks. Do you really, really want to get a plane ticket to see your family? Do it. Figure out the details, and do it. Put it on your list.

Thinking about a 5K but haven't signed up and you're already feeling run down? Don't sign up. 

The rules are simple.

Don’t list too many things.

Why? Because work and just showing up for Thanksgiving – with the candied yams you’ve already signed up to bring – and just showing up for the company holiday party, and...all that tinseled jazz is gonna get in the way of all these other things you're trying to do in addition.

And you’re gonna be really tired.

Your friends, if they’re loving friends who love you more than the gifts you give, aren’t going to care if you give them a gift on January 2^nd, or March 9^th.

Just let it go.

Let the minimum be the maximum.

Pick your deal breakers, get excited that those are going to be a part of the end of your year, and for crying out loud pour yourself a glass of egg nog. Even if you hate egg nog. Because it’s symbolic of the season.

Now go! Make your (teeny, tiny) list. And walk away from it. Because there should only be like three things on it, if you're following the rules. You know what’s on your list, so you don’t need it for reference.

Today I went to work and scheduled a massage. I went to the grocery store and ate some foodstuffs. And then I came home and wrote this instead of a charming Christmas letter.

Although this is kind of a charming Christmas letter in its own right. 

Smooches,
Bailz

P.S. I also realized this letter makes me sound kind of anti-holidays. I spent my lunch break today eating McDonald's food in my car, listening to Julie Andrews' Christmas CD. I'm not anti-fun in November and December, and I am oh so grateful for the birth of a Savior.

The point of this letter is to tell you that I want you to be able to inhale, exhale right now, not pant. And thus not miss the Julie Andrews and the Savior birth celebrating.

I've selected an amazing Thanksgiving buddy for 2013

I think I am finally coming out of my cranky, sensitive, dramatic funk. Praise the good Lord above. I'm still tired and needing lots of vitamins, but otherwise I feel I am on the upswing. And man, things were getting ridiculous there for a while. I could not snap out of it. 

One thing that helps a lot is cracking up with my hilarious friends. 

A conversation with my dear and precious friend Jeff on the phone this evening: 

Me: “I really want to try wassail [pronounced Wuh-SIGH]”

Jeff: “Wassail? [pronounced correctly]”

Me: “Yeah. I don’t know why I have so much trouble pronouncing it because it’s pronounced differently in the song.”

Jeff: “Yeah, I think you should probably take a cue from the song.”

Both of us laugh hysterically.

…

20 minutes later in the conversation:

Jeff: “Could you remind me how you used to pronounce ‘wassail’?”

Both of us laugh hysterically, and I have to wait to stop laughing in order to meet his request:

Me: “Wuh-SIGH.”

More laughing.

Jeff: “Oh, boy. That’s good.”

Open letter (btw, I'm feeling more than a little whiny lately)

Dear family, friends, and people I may meet in the next several weeks (because I will meet you and I will want to be best friends and hang out):

In (more than) a word: I’m stressed.

I have been here before: over strung, over tired, feeling guilty when I can’t give time to people yet needing those people to let me talk out all my feelings of being over strung and over tired.

But this time I think I’ll do something different, by addressing it with this letter. I’m not calling this being proactive, because I’m already in the thick of it, stress wise, and who are we kidding – I will never be a planner-aheader. We’ll call this ground control (I don't think I'm using that term correctly; I'm trying to creatively say "get my life under control/get me grounded").

I will (try to) make this brief, and just say a few things about what I need from you and what you can expect from me for the next several weeks. Probably until 2014, to be honest, because there are holidays occurring over the next several weeks.

I need:

1. You. Please don’t forget that. I need you. I really do.
2. That said, I need to be able to say “no” to you (although please note I probably won’t say the word “no.” I will say, “Welllllllll…” followed by a big long apology/explanation about why I can’t spend time with you. And I will feel badly about it).
3. Rest.
4. To work on my self control.

I believe, during my many years of uninhibited extroversion and many interests in many arts and many things, that I have recognized before this teeny tiny issue I have with self control, and my lacking it.

I have realized more than once – say, oh, a million times – that I need to cool it and just focus. That I need to currrrb the action. Currrrrb the activity. Tennnnd to the basics. Fermé the bouche (shut the mouth).

But when it comes to that term “self control,” while I know it is Biblical and thus I should care, it also sounds very hall monitorish and seems like a smaller thing on the list of things to do, so I usually write “N/A” in my mind and run away, hoping the hall monitor doesn’t see me skipping out on this detail again.

But really, I need self control.

One of our pastors at church recently quoted another of our pastors who said: “Insight is never healing.”

I have become aware that I need self control. I know that I need to say “no.” (Or at least to say, “Wellllllll…”). But I don’t do a damn thing about it. Here’s part of the reason why:

It boils down, really, to the fact that I just want people to like me. I don’t want anyone mad at me, ever. I really don’t want to hurt your feelings, ever. And, in case we’ve forgotten: I want you to like me.

So with that in mind, I have what some might term an irrational fear that in sending a message like this one here that says, “I’ll be in touch when I’m in touch,” that the reaction of some, or many, or all, will be: “Forget that broad. She doesn’t have time for me.”

Did I mention I really don’t ever want to make anyone mad? Yeah. You’re basically just not allowed to be mad at me. That should just be a rule. Although I’m not bossy enough to enforce it. Because bossiness usually comes with the responsibility of having people get mad at you sometimes.

So I am torn in bringing this up, because I so desperately need to just come to you on my own terms right now, but I so desperately, desperately, need you all in my life. And I don’t need you just for my own sense of self worth. I also really like you people.

Let me pause for a moment and say also that I don’t feel like y’all are banging my door down for my attention. So if you’re reading this and fearing that you are coming across as the needy one, fear not. You’re not.

That said, I try to make my policy with people in my life very clear and that is this: you can always call me, even at 3 a.m., if you need to talk. I don’t care if your “crisis” is just being really unhappy and uncomfortable with how you are feeling at 3 a.m., whether it makes sense or not. I’ve been there, thus I qualify that as a crisis, and Lord knows I’ve called people at 3 a.m. with that particular kind of crisis. And sometimes you just need distraction and need to talk about bubble gum or TV or wallpaper – something – to get your mind off your crisis-like feelings. I’ve made those phone calls, too, and you can call me and we can talk about wallpaper and bubble gum and I won’t ask you the hard questions except maybe “Are you OK?” before we hang up.

So that rule still stands. I’m not shutting you out. I am here for you. Just to be clear.

And so while you can and should still call me – or whomever it is in your life who you trust with your crises – I need you to meanwhile not be offended when I:

1. Don’t reply to your (non-crisis) emails. Or:
2. Non-crisis Facebook messages.
3. Or non-crisis phone messages.

And I guess I’m asking for the same in return to my messages. If I call you in crisis, please call me back. If your latest email from me is one regarding bubble gum, you need not rush in your response. Or respond at all.

In the next several weeks, you might invite me to dinner or a party or whatever, and I may have space on the calendar for it. My body may be able to get in the car and get there. I may even be able to be charming while I’m there – though I’m not guaranteeing that these days.

What I’m severely lacking, I am finding, is the time and stamina needed to recover from these things.

I say, “OK, yeah, of course. I can do that, and that, and that, because look right here: space on the calendar!”

But then later I think, “My car and my living space are a huge mess, I’m eating Spaghettios for dinner at 10 p.m., I can’t sleep, I’M SO STRESSED OUT!!!!”

That part is afterthought.

Because at the time when asked to do something, I think:

A)     “Ooh, yay! People still like me! They want to spend time with me! I am validated once again!”

(and)

B)      “I CANNOT SAY NO TO THIS BECAUSE WHAT IF THIS IS THE LAST CHANCE I HAVE TO BE OFFERED AN INVITATION TO SPEND TIME TOGETHER???!!!”

I’m not always this dramatic. A lot of times I’m able to say, “Meh. I’m happy watching a Disney flick tonight. Those friends will be there another weekend.” It doesn’t mean I love the Disney flick more than the friends, but it does mean I’m OK with not driving to see those friends and instead hang out with Simba for the evening.

But lately? I’m feeling a little dramatic. Actually I’m feeling very needy, because I am very needy, because I’m very stressed and very tired and need a lot of reassurance.

I’m going to wrap this up because I said I would keep it brief and clearly I haven’t done that.

It might sound like I’m being funny in what I’m saying above, but I am rather serious, and the writing of this was fueled by a pulsating blob of stress and worry that is very serious.

If you have a crisis, please email or call with a “may day” type message. If it’s very urgent, call twice.

If it’s anything else, bear with me. Love me. Don’t quit offering your time and listening ears, *please*, but if I say I can’t join you for an activity, just accept it. (Again, not that I’ve had a lot of push back from y’all, because I never really say “no” to invitations to activity).

And again, don’t quit offering your time and listening ears. Please don’t wait for me to pass this season of stress before you continue communicating with me. You don’t need to halt communication. That would be sad. I still want to hear you. I will read your emails and listen to your voice mails, and they will make me smile. And sometimes I will respond, and sometimes I will even be funny or charming.

Please assure me that your offer for a sushi date, or a phone date, or a non-date (if you just want to be friends or you’re married or something) is not the last offer you will ever extend to me.

Because I may have an irrational fear about this. And I am needy in my need to have it discredited more than once.

I love you. Please love me. I’m here for you. Please keep being there for me. Also: I’m cranky (that last point is just fair warning). 

A morning. (Or, a semi-weekend recap)

Well I’ve been at Starbucks for about two hours now without being able to connect to the WiFi, so I guess I’ll write something, huh?

First, let’s talk about this: I am sitting at a table at the front of the store, right next to a window. There is a table directly outside the window from where I’m sitting, and the two people sitting at that table have chosen to sit facing the glass, so I feel like I’m being stared at. I don’t think they are staring at me, I think they’re just having a conversation while avoiding the glare of the sun in their eyes, but seriously, dudes. Let’s not.

OK what else can I tell you? I’m having lunch with my friend Rosie in about an hour. We will be dining at my current place of culinary obsession: FIVE GUYS. So incredibly delicious, and In ‘N Out burgers are like rice cakes comparatively. You can fight me on this. I stand my delicious beefy ground. With my complimentary peanuts, thank you very much. Where are my free peanuts, In ‘N Out?

Wow that got mean spirited really quickly. I was actually planning to talk about something more positive, which is the joy and peace of calling a friend last minute – as I just did with Rosie – and having them be available to do something spontaneous and at the last minute.

I began my morning at Starbucks, and I had finished one cup of coffee and a donut. I was feeling the jitteriness set in, the clock was approaching twelve. I thought, “I should eat. Maybe I should buy a newspaper. I want to keep sitting here, but I should eat. I want to get on the Internet but I can’t get my computer to connect. So maybe I should get a paper. Or write. Maybe I should eat.”

Then I thought I’d call Rosie – one of my only friends in L.A. who actually lives somewhat close to me – Valley residents, represent! – and I did call her and asked if she had lunch plans and Voila! She did not! Five Guys here we come!

Anyway, point being, this spontaneity thing doesn’t always work out. So many times I have been aggravated, tense, depressed, felt forgotten, simply because I found myself alone and wanting company and no one was around or available or answering their phones.

But sometimes you call Rosie and she picks up and she, too, would be happy to get a burger with you.

Grateful.

Also grateful for this weekend as a whole, which has been pretty stellar and unexpectedly productive as well as restful. Yesterday I managed to write – and today, too; this really is rare as of late – and I ran nine miles for the first time in life (and experienced waves of nausea for the rest of the evening, but ya know, whatevs) and I put the finishing touches on a video and finally posted it to YouTube (I filmed it in May).

Last night I talked to Mom and Dad on the phone, and by talked to them I mean that they narrated the last quarter of the Iowa State game to me. I thought about saying, “Talk later, Guys,” but then I got invested and stayed on the line. All I was doing was trying not to throw up, anyway, so why hang up? Sometimes it’s a good idea to just stay on the line with people you love because they’re there and you love them and both of those things are pretty great.

I also slept late on Saturday and Sunday morning this weekend. I was so insanely tired last week – on Tuesday I cried those can’t-stop tears simply because I was so, so tired – so I totally needed the rest.

I’ve also managed to not become lonely this weekend, though I’ve only had face time with cashiers and other strangers in public places.

OK now I feel like these people outside are looking at me and incorporating me into their conversation (I’m sure they’re not, but I’m uncomfortable nonetheless). Please turn around, friends. Face the parking lot, or put your noses in books. Start making out with each other, something.

I ask you, how can they not feel uncomfortable with this arrangement?? If there were no glass between us they would never arrange themselves this way. Because we're basically sitting right next to each other. And they're facing me. And we don't know each other. And we're not in conversation together. 

If you do one thing this week, beloved readers, make sure to position yourself at a table outside of a coffee shop with your back to the coffee shop. Thank you.

OK, I’m going to try the WiFi connection again. I think that goal is shot, so I’ll probably buy a paper. Which, as a journalism degree holder, I should probably do once in a while, ya think?  

Latas.

Oh my goodness, now the guy outside is giving a shoulder massage to the woman, and they are still facing me.

OK, woman protested, he’s sitting down again.

Still facing me.

I should be paid professionally for all the Starbucks spying I do.