Caterwauling

So, I’m bummed out a bit.

It’s Christmas. And it’s cold in Florida. I mean, COLD. Nineteen-degree windchill in the morning cold.

On Dec. 4 of last year the King Crackhead at my old job shitcanned the two most-productive employees. I was NOT one of them. But I figured my time was coming. After all, why keep competent people?

I was on edge until March 16 when I started my new job.

The prior year, I survived a round of Thanksgiving layoffs.

I’ve been dreaming of a side business that I hope will become a full-time one. It’s capital- and labor-intensive. And involves real estate. And overhead. And shareholders. Gah.

But at least shareholder meetings are annual instead of multiple-per-week events.

Next Christmas, I have no desire to wonder whether my days are numbered, and just how many are left. It’s not cancer, for Christ’s sake. But it sure feels like it. And pinot is my chemo.

I’ve had a lot to drink and I’m sure I’ve said too much. I’m cold and I’m sad and I’m really missing someone right now. I’m sick to everloving DEATH of feeling like I can’t live/work/love where/who I want because it doesn’t fit into someone else’s plan.

Plus, I decided to stop taking my Paxil. Sure, from the tone of this blog entry, it seems like I should go swallow six of them ASAP. But I’ll tell you, it’s the first time in a year that I’ve felt ALIVE.

I haven’t had an idea worth a good God damn in over a year. I’ve had one mood for 400 straight days. I’ve been complacent. I haven’t been hungry for change.

A few days minus my mother’s little helpers, and BOY am I seeing the world through my old eyes (with the new prescription!).

I’ve felt the stirrings of that old fire that used to define me. I’ve grabbed life by the balls and told it to turn its head and cough.

Where I’m stuck right now is whether to keep this hamster wheel going … or to jump into a parallel wheel … or to say fuck it because I’m not a hamster and I’ll take my chances in the water even though I have NO CLUE how to swim.

I’d rather dive in before someone throws me in.

And I’d rather cha-cha the whole way to my little dream side venture in my own time.

View from Duval House, Key West

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I was sitting in BWI on Sunday, after a lovely 18 hours with a dear friend who trekked south to see me, waiting for a flight (of course).

I got to the airport early. And of course the plane was delayed repeatedly due to the weather.

As everyone knows, to say I’m a frequent flier is an understatement. I’m more at-home in hotels and terminals than I am in my Palm Beach penthouse. (Although I do adore that, too.)

I was sitting by the California Tortilla, enjoying a cuppa joe from Mayorga (how I miss Maryland!), when a pilot from Southwest asked if he could borrow a corner of my table for a moment.

I said sure and we struck up a conversation. He was feeling kind of bummed because of the weather (increasingly heavy rains) and the pile of delays that were making his customers (and himself) more than just a little bit antsy.

I shared that I fly about three times a month. And that there’s no way I could do what he does out there; nor would I ever be so bold as to claim that they could do their jobs any better.

I said, look. I really appreciate how dedicated you are … how you want to get this show on the road and get your passengers to their next destination. And frankly, I don’t really care about the delays so much — I’m just glad that you get me home safely and securely.

If an extra hour or two means you have a better “drive” and you put me on the ground at home as uneventfully as possible, well then, know that I’m silently applauding you from my seat in the back of the aircraft.

He suddenly smiled — beamed, I tell you — and said, “You have just turned my whole day around. Thank you!”

I smiled and wished him safe travels. He waved and walked away.

I tell you this story not because I did anything wonderful or even out-of-the-ordinary — at least, not out-of-the-ordinary for me, anyway. I don’t pay compliments out of my ass, but I do my best to make everyone’s day easier and, if possible, a little brighter.

And I get a lot of crap for that.

In any case, at a time when evil bitchiness is permeating far too many areas of my life … at a time when I am really trying to get the hell away from it because the negativity impacts me far too much … I am reminded that I may get shit on as a “nice girl” — hell, people downright use your hair to wipe their ass, if you let them — I will have made a difference in the world when all is said and done.

I might not have made billions of dollars for my company or millions of dollars for myself and my associates, by the end of my life. But if I have done something each day to take someone to a new level, or improved their day by one little degree, then I’m OK with that.

And to hell with anyone who wants to make me feel that my identity is flawed or isn’t enough. Because I may not be able to live with anyone else, but I am quite content living with myself.

Check-out time from the hotel was at 11 a.m. today. I passed out hard when I got home from the prom somewhere in the wee hours. I was fully awake at 7:45 a.m. But I didn’t move till, oh, 10:20 a.m. At which time I did the fastest butt-scrubbing in the history of butt-scrubbing.

Forty minutes later, I was settled into another hotel. I’ve been wandering around the Inner Harbor. Got a lovely spicy mocha from Caribou, too. I miss cities — being on foot, even in this ridiculous cold, is welcome exercise.

Last night really was the best of times and worst of times. I felt like a princess in my prom dress. I flitted about like the social butterfly I am, basically getting wine from all seven of the booze stations at the Maryland Club. I schmoozed, I socialized, I rocked my little corner of the universe. What really kind of surprised me was how many people introduced themselves to me — “Oh, Goddess! So glad you flew up for the prom — I was hoping to meet you!”

Huh?

I spend every day drowning in the specter of incompetence and inadequacy … inventorying what I have to offer and what is needed from me … and not seeing enough overlap. And wondering whether I should just flush the mind meds down the toilet because I haven’t had one goddamned creative idea since this time last year when I first got on them.

I got some weird news while I was getting dressed. It didn’t surprise me. Nothing does anymore, really. And my fight-or-flight response — which is always programmed to “flight” — got powered on to “fight.”

I don’t mean fight as in “fighting for” something. Rather, to fight against it.

And I did.

More to come on that.

Needless to type, I got drunk as an everlovin’ skunk off of Chardonnay. Way to impress the colleagues, Goddess!

Everyone said I seemed sober. Well, everyone except K., who practically carried me home. 🙂 We walked in heels and bitter cold, and she locked arms with me and kept me upright and moving forward. I was pretty loopy. I promised myself I wouldn’t get too far gone. But at some point when I ran into one of my “boys” and had a wonderful conversation, I was exhilarated. And ready to party!

Speaking of my boys, I just learned that I’m going to get some out-of-town company this evening. So I’m going to get some rest and wait for my gentleman friend to arrive. I love, love, love my travels. And I love them even more when it means I can share parts of them and see people I otherwise wouldn’t.

I wish I could somehow combine the culture and excitement of Baltimore with the heat and beauty of South Florida. I mean, I guess I do, with the office being split between the two places. But I’m wondering whether it’s time to tell them that I need another change of scenery. My “kids” have begged me to figure out a way to get transferred to the Baltimore office. And truthfully, I think I need them as much as they need me right now.

As always, we will see. It’s in God’s hands. And God, if you’ve got the million-dollar idea that’s going to justify my existence and employment, I’d like that first. Because that will determine my direction. And I want, for once, for it to be absolutely right.

Baltimore’s Washington Monument

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I didn’t go to my high school prom. My gay high school “boyfriend” (whose 37th birthday is today. Whee) took his sixth-grade girlfriend who had moved away for high school so that she could see her old friends. She spent the WHOLE NIGHT with her friends and ignored him.

I do <3 instant karma. 🙂

Anywho, I had the big huge planning session scheduled with my Maryland staff yesterday. My marketing manager and I have mapped out a 7-page manifesto for Q1 and I wanted all the players to bring their input.

We had four surprise guests. Two of whom hate how I run meetings. 🙂

As they all learned today, I’m an ENFP … and plans and structure ain’t my style. 😉

The session went fine. It was pretty silent except for me and two of the unexpected guests. But when those guests left? Everyone got chatty and VOLUNTEERED ownership of the projects I was ready to assign them.

We got more done in five minutes than we did in the prior 40.

I worry sometimes that I am too “nice” or forgiving or even sacrificing, to the tune of giving too much guidance when I should be focused more on the bottom line. And then there are times when I see my personal investment pay off right before my eyes.

I saw that last night.

I’m not perfect. And there are a thousand and 50 things I could do better. But the million-dollar idea was in one of those people in that room. And I will be damned if we don’t earn it on my watch.

I had the world’s best team (and ancillary players) at Ye Olde Workplace Establishment. We were curmudgeonly alcoholics on a good day. But we collectively kicked ass AND had each other’s backs on a great day. There were no titles, no under-bus-throwings. No fear. No real grumblings that weren’t rooted in caring.

I had another awesome team at the Den of Iniquity. You called those guys at 3 a.m. on a Saturday, and they jumped out of bed and did what was asked of them. Maybe not always without a word of complaint. But always to the best of their ability.

I think I have that here. I am such a Momma Bear to my adult “kids,” but they are all so bright and eager and full of heart. (We’ve fired the rest.)

And days when I just don’t have it in me, they give me my spirit back.

I expect they will all prove me right. And make me look good. And right now, I need that. I told them, the talent and the ideas and the ability to see what’s wrong is in front of THEM. I sit on my tuffet in Florida and I can’t see what they see. And while I can do a better job of communicating and coordinating, they’ve got to tell me where the gaps are so that I’m not spackling a wall that’s just fine … or not filling a pothole I don’t see.

I told them I’m their champion. Their barrier-breaker. Bring it to me and let me fix it. That sort of thing.

I figured out the title of the leadership book I want to write. But this is my final case study. I’m done with changing jobs. I told my boss I want to be here for the next five years. I mean it.

Anyway, on a lighter note, we did several hours of teambuilding today. It was fun. We also did a secret santa and had a lovely lunch. And I got my Christmas bonus today. The cab ride from BWI cost more, but I ain’t mad about that, since we’ll be drinking for the next six hours on the company dime. 🙂

Alas, it is prom night. Complete with prom dresses and tuxes. I was going to wear dress boots since it’s a three-block walk and Baltimore’s first snowfall of the season happened today. (Hello ICE on the streets.)

But I ran into people from another of our Florida offices. And they said they’re cabbing it (dress shoes, yo) and said I should come with them. Which, hey, my group is walking but that group is paying for a cab out of the company kitty? Baby, I’m in! I can wear my heels — yay!

And with that, I’m off like a prom dress — gotta go scrub my butt, finish my Malbec and meet the Florida crew in the cab line.

If there are any babies birthed and tossed into the dumpsters, I’ll be sure to report back. 🙂 There are a couple of pregnancies I just learned about so I’ll be drinking for two … er, the two of THEM, that is!!!

Well said

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

We got to see part of the AIDS quilt when we were in Key West. And there was a sticker above the entryway of nearly every bar and store that declared “One Human Family.” And at the Southernmost Point, this mural was beneath our feet as we waited in line to get a photo at the famous buoy.

It got me to thinking about the absurdity of it all. Let’s assume I told you what happened today. And that you have now just picked yourself up from the floor after laughing too hard to catch your breath. And that you wished me good luck tomorrow because, well, it’s not like I can decline the follow-up meeting request. And that I feel better because I am not the crazy one for a change, but ssssh, don’t tell anybody that!

And I wonder how someone so wonderful as Elizabeth Edwards should die so horribly. (I know she’s not the first to die of cancer; but what a woman, you know?) But it was the pain in her life that makes this story so much worse.

The world said goodbye to an amazing woman today. I’ll remember her for fighting for health care for the rest of us, while she advanced through the cancer stages like an overachieving student. How she acknowledged that she had the Cadillac of health plans for herself and worried instead for those without her resources. How she kicked out that (good-looking) bum of a husband for cheating on her because life was too short — and who would know better how short it was, as her days were numbered.

And I look around and realize, wow, everything’s so … unimportant. So I’ll never be a prodigy at (insert inane activity). So I’ll never be able to hit a moving target. Or make above a certain income level. So maybe I never will get my mother out of my house. Or own my own property.

Who cares, really. Was I happy during the days I was given? Was I able to brighten others’ days during my journey? Did I make someone smarter, better, stronger, happier and more confident along the way? (The answer is unequivocally YES on all counts, and I have proof from as recently as today.)

And that’s really all that matters.

No one will remember in 100 years whether I ran an efficient meeting (I can’t. And I DON’T CARE). Or whether I let stuff slide to help others instead. Last I checked, HELPING PEOPLE counts as an achievement.

If I am remembered at all, it had better be for the smile I always had, even when I was screaming inside. For the solutions that i can see, plain as day, when others are too stressed out to see what’s right in front of them. For, not necessarily hugging people often (because I just don’t), but maybe for those rare occasions when I reach out and squeeze someone tight because either A) they need it, or B) I do. For when I could right something that the world had maliciously wronged.

That’s my legacy. I’m proud of it. It comes easily to me. Things that are forced, are not worth doing. Emotions often fail me, but sincerity is not one that I lack. And don’t ever tell me I don’t have my priorities out-of-whack … I guarantee that I put people above projects, and experiences over things. The Great Pumpkin (in the form of profits) will come to the sincerest pumpkin patch. But if the pumpkins ain’t happy, ain’t nobody (especially Momma) happy.

But when everybody’s happy, Momma’s happy. Even if she has to fake it till she makes it. And once it surrounds you, it’s more contagious than this stupid strain of virus I’ve had for the last 35 days.

I don’t need to change “the” world. Just the worlds entrusted to my care, for however long or short a period that is. That’s all I need. That’s all the WORLD needs.

And nobody has the right or the ability to judge me on anything less.

Gulf of Mexico, Mallory Square

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I’ve had this incorrigible illness for a month-plus, and I’m sure it will be aggravated further when I head BACK up north later this week for the corporate “prom.” But alas, there are bigger troubles to have in this world.

I should be working tonight. I might still. Maybe. I feel like, right now, things are shaky there. I have this to-do list that I’ve had 90 days to figure out. And a part of me has been like, “WTF does this have to do with reality?” It’s not that I haven’t been working — believe me, I HAVE. But I’ve felt like what I’m talented at is not what I’m supposed to be working on, but I’ve been working on that stuff anyway.

And then I saw a Joel Osteen episode this weekend that reminded me that you really do serve at the pleasure of whomever is paying you. And what they want from me is what’s good for the business. Even if it’s not my ballywick.

Let’s face it — I COULD do the same thing every day for the rest of my life. Or I can teach as much to it as possible to my staff while taking on all my new projects. I’ve been doing a ton of the former … just haven’t been so hot at learning all the new stuff.

So, I don’t know whether I’d call the employment situation “precarious.” But I’ve felt more confident in my day, sure. I find myself missing the InvestorRanch a lot. I just came in and did my thing. For the better part of five years, whatever I decided was fabulous.

I miss that. I will get back to that place, of course, as soon as I prove myself, I guess.

But it’s easier to prove yourself with stuff that you already know, y’know? If I manage to dazzle people with the database skills I have to acquire, well … yeah. I feel like I forget how to shine. And I hate that.

A part of me just wants to be left alone to supervise. I have people who have either never had a job, or who have never had a sane superior who is actually vested in their professional growth. That’s where I have fun. That’s where I make the most difference.

If I just learn all the other stuff they want me to learn (and let go of all the stuff I’ve already mastered), I’ll get my wish.

I am on a helping kick. Even if I’m not sure the effort is worth it. But I’m willing to throw myself in front of a train on the premise that everybody needs a champion at some point in their lives.

(I could use one myself sometimes. Just sayin’.)

And the one person who NEEDS me as a champion, more than anyone else on earth, is the person inhabiting my master bedroom.

I’ve gone through a spiritual transformation in the past few weeks. I think it was visiting all the southern/mid-Atlantic states with Lady L. Somewhere along the way, I lost my anger. (Not my frustration, unfortunately.) I’ve just come to realize that you only get one mother. And I’d rather we be friends than enemies. And that, frankly, it’s just easier NOT to fight on opposite sides.

That’s pretty much where I am right now. My soul has a high price tag now. Everything I want and love (or WOULD want and love, if only I knew what it was) is out there on the horizon *somewhere*. I want a master’s degree in organizational leadership/psychology. I want a husband. I want a book deal. I want a black AmEx. I want to be bumped up to first class automatically because I travel so much. I want to be free … free, I tell you, FREE … from anything resembling worry or need. I don’t want to EVER need mercy or sympathy or money because I can suffice quite well on my own, with or without those with bigger bankbooks or the ability to make or break me with just one mood swing.

I’m not aiming this at anyone or anything. I just realize in a huge way that it’s the grace of God — and, unfortunately, the occasional human — that determines whether I live in a penthouse or a poor house. And the day I stop worrying is the day that I can flush all my “mind meds” out to sea and start to *feel* again — to see the colors and patterns as brightly as my mind used to form them … to ride the lows to the highs and all the way back around instead of enjoying one mood 24/7 — so I can dig deep into that well and start to write with passion again. To not nod off a thousand times a year because I’m not stimulated enough (caffeine notwithstanding) to continue paying attention.

Maybe next year. Just, gotta do my damndest to get through this one first. [Affix perma-grin and keep remembering that others must have problems, too, to be anything less than chipper themselves.]

Il Bellagio water dance

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

“Oh the North country winters
Keep a-gettin’ me now
Lost my money playing poker,
So I had to up and leave
But I ain’t a-turnin’ back
To living that life no more.”

— Old Crow Medicine Show, “Wagon Wheel”

Hello little blog.

Let’s see. I’ve been in two countries and eight states over the course of two weeks.

I was home for five days before taking off for the Keys. With all the crap breaking down in my apartment, and having a guest to impress, it was the only sensible thing to do!

I think I had my first real vacation. Sure, I have plenty of weekend escapes. But from Thanksgiving Day till Tuesday at 12:30 when I got back to work, I was in a whole different place — mentally as well as physically.

“I see your lips and I wonder who’s been kissin’ them.
I never knew how badly I was missin’ them.
We both know we’re never going to make it,
but when we touch, we never have to fake it.”

— Donnie Iris, “Ah! Leah!”

Oh, what can I say on this page that doesn’t give it all away? Perhaps that I became like the girl in the Corona commercial. Not necessarily lounging on the Gulf of Mexico — although we did visit it — but instead sitting on a balcony atop Duval Street in Key West, holding hands with a special friend and basking in the colors of the sky as the sun went down. Yes, I think that moment encapsulates my weekend very nicely.

“Where have you gone
The beach is so cold in winter here
Where have I gone
I wait in Montauk
With you near.”

— Ryan Star, “Losing Your Memory”

Temperatures in South Florida have dropped from the mid-80s to the mid-50s. I’m glad we enjoyed my area and hopped down to the southernmost part of the state last week and not this one.

Sure, it was hot as hades for most of the escape. But that’s the point of Florida, you know? Getting away from the snow and into the scorching hot sun. It might not get our guests through the whole winter, but it at least gives them something pleasant to remember for a little while.

I have a lot more to say. Words were never my problem. But time and space and privacy, well, are. So I’m going to go to the local Christmas tree lighting, where Santa is scheduled to arrive by helicopter, and not think too much about sunsets, sunrises and everything in between that comprised the earlier part of my week.

“You were from the North
I was from the South
We were from opposite places
Different towns
But I knew it was good
And you knew it was too.”

— Missy Higgins, “Secret”