Soul Thumping

Don't let the Fear Mongering Stop You From Buying Those Sweet Suede Boots

Within minutes after the market closes at the end of each afternoon, I can expect an email from Chicken Little (otherwise known as The Washington Post) telling me how utterly terrible things are.  They want to make sure I know that the sky is falling.  Hey, I'm not picking on The Washington Post (I just happen to subscribe to The Washington Post for email updates, so they get the brunt of my rant today).  Every form of media (liberal and conservative, print, online, television news, etc.) is out there letting us know everything sucks and we are all going to die a horrible, painful, slow death because we are going to starve or probably even have to eat our neighbors in order to stay alive.

I need to get this off of my chest (W.P., the Times, NPR, ABC, NBC, FOX, and even ESPN):  If it weren't for your depressing, battered, tired, over-done links in my happy-looking email folder every day, I would be clueless and actually might even start living my life, and how terrible for a recession would that be?  Why, the recession might just get so mad that he takes his ball and goes home if we start ignoring him.

If we are told every day that things are bad, we will believe and act like things are bad.  I am a living example.  When I see the negative headlines in my inbox, I feel a dark cloud over me and start worrying about my job, my mortgage payment, how much I spend on groceries, etc.  When I see positive headlines like unemployment rates have gone down, or interest rates are going to continue to stay low, I'm automagically a happy camper for the day.   Those shiny happy headlines are few and far between.  Not because there aren't good things happening in the world, it's just more fun for the media to print those stories.  Buzzards, vulchers.

In the past several weeks I've had more job offers and opportunities than I've had in 2 years.  I've seen more jobs posted than I've seen in a while.  We are less stressed with paying bills, and we aren't selling our house for peanuts just because the realtors are telling us to.  I'm not selling my house at a cheap price (and neither is a woman I work with, thanks!!).  If we don't sell it, we don't sell it.  There are so many people who HAVE to sell, and I wish them the best of luck and if they are in that position, it's unavoidable and you have to do what you have to do.  But if you have your house on the market and you don't have to sell, then don't just because your realtor is telling you to do so.  You will only be adding to the problem.  Ignore your realtor.  Realtors work for you and you determine what you will and won't take...they only want to keep their percentages up.

I'm not an economist, a V.P. of anything, a financial guru, etc.  This all comes from gut instinct and common sense.

Things might be bad now, but handing your emotional control over to the media will not solve any of our problems and will only continue making things worse.  Live a little, and spend a little.  We are going to spiral if we cave into this nonsense.  The media stands by with bated breath, waiting for something terrible to report like salivating buzzards.  Buzzards I tell you. 

No Chicken Little, the sky is NOT falling, and if it's falling where you live, you might want to consider a sturdier roof.

 

--Fortuitous Observer

Dr. Seuss-isms to Live By

I have been a fan of Dr. Seuss since I could read (he helped me learn to read actually, the silly old guff, and he didn't even know it), and during the past 7 months of membership in the unemployed gang I've been riding the emotional roller coaster at full-tilt.  I find happy hills one day and sad lonely valleys the next.  It has been a vicious ride and an unkind one.  Zeus has been supportive and he has had to deal with many of these emotions, fast and furiously, without warning most of the time, and I owe him a great deal.

Though I am leary about posting this news until it is in writing, I believe I am now among the employed once again (though I am waiting for the official offer letter, I was given the good news verbally today).

When my time in unemployment land began, I was hopeful and optimistic.  I've never had a problem finding a job, and my skills are quite valuable.  As the weeks wore on, my optimism waned a bit and I quickly had to recover it, getting my energy level elevated once more.  As the months wore on, it was becoming quite impossible to keep motivated.  I tried every day to keep my head above the tide and continue to swim.  I'll admit, these last couple of weeks were the toughest and to be honest, I'm not sure I could have continued to tread water.

So, after receiving the call today with a job offer (a very, very good one), I ran through every emotion possible and became quite philosophical, causing me to reach for my small blue book, Seuss-isms, a book edited by Audrey Geisel, Ted Geisel's (a.k.a. Dr. Suess) wife, and I found a Seuss-ism that is perfect for today:

I learned there are troubles
Of more than one kind.
Some come from ahead
And some come from behind

But I've bought a big bat.
I'm all ready, you see.
Now my troubles are going
To have troubles with me!
--I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew

--Fortuitous Observer

Just What Makes That Little Squirrel...

September 1, 2009.  I have my windows open on this beautiful Carolina morning.  I'm confused, however, because it should be humid and in the upper 80's at 10am.  I'm a sun bunny, and I don't mind heat and yes, even a little humidity, but I have to admit I'm digging this morning, and so is that pesky little squirrel who keeps trying to get into my anti-squirrel bird feeder (of course I had to snap a pic).

I have to hand it to him, he is a trooper.  He doesn't give up.  I'm going to learn from him today.  I had a not so great day yesterday.  Being unemployed for 6 months can sometimes sneak up on me, even though I try to stay active and upbeat, the mean blues (or according to Holly Golightly, the mean reds) creep up on me unexpectedly from time to time.  Having suffered from chronic depression most of my life, I am still sometimes overwhelmed when it hits.  One would think by now I would be used to it, but no (though I am medicated!!!!  Yeah for meds).

Anyway, getting back to the squirrel.  He doesn't give up.  He is out there everyday, rain or shine, trying to claw his way through the metal wiring on the bird feeder.  He doesn't care that it was made specifically to keep rodents like him from stealing seed rightfully belonging to birds.  He will not hear that.  Nay, he will have those sunflowers!

Remember Laverne and Shirely?  When Shirely would be feeling down, or not wanting to go along with one of Laverne's schemes, Laverne would sing the song "High Hopes" to her, you know the one about the little ant thinking he can move a rubber tree plant?  The squirrel reminded me of that, so that will be the song stuck in my head ALL DAY LONG.  I found this version on youtube today, so everybody sing!!

--Fortuitous Observer

Blame it on the Economy

It seems like most people I see out and about these days are so miserable and so ready (and some are even hoping) to get the opportunity to rip someone's head off (so far, it hasn't been my head, for which I am thankful).  I credit this widely spreading disease of boorishness to our economic situation and people being uncertain about their jobs (I guess I'm lucky...I still don't have a job to worry about), their homes and how they are going to take care of themselves and their family, or how they are going to pay for the brand new Lexus out in the brick driveway that they just had to get because the neighbors just bought the new BMW SUV and there is no way in hell they are going to let the neighbor one-up their family, no sir-ee Bob.

I'm trying to look at this in a more humorous way.  If there is a silver lining in all of this (or as I said to my boyfriend, a tacky gold sequined liner), it's that we can blame everything on our economic situation right now and get away with it!  I can't seem to manage to complete anything on my to-do list.  It's the economy's fault!  I can't concentrate because of the economy.  I think my neighbor has a stalker.  It's the economy.  He lost his job and has nothing else to do but spy (speaking of the devil, I just saw his car "sneak" down the street...he thinks no one notices).  I cannot grow grass in my front yard.  It's the economy's fault because I can't afford to cut down the tree in my front yard (which would allow more sunlight to fall on the yard, allowing grass to grow) because I'm unemployed, because of the economy.  My garbage disposal is broken.  You guessed it, it's the economy.  Well, OK, I can't really find a way to blame the demise of my garbage disposal on the economy right now, but you get the point.

So, I'm back to playing my Smile game again because I can't take one more dejected-looking person stumbling around in a miserable cloud of melancholia every time I go out the door or I'm going to slink right down in the dumps with them.  If that starts to happen, I swear I'll go kicking and screaming feet-first --which reminds me, I have a blister on my foot today, and as soon as I can think of someway to do it, I'm going to blame it on the economy.

--Fortuitous Observer

A Corporate Strategy Meeting...with my Cats

At what point during these five months of unemployment precisely did I lose my mind?  I am (ok...was) a software consultant for a very well-known German software company, traveling non-stop, consulting for Fortune 100 companies, advising and recommending, going toe-to-toe with some important highly paid decision makers.  Yes, I loved my job and it loved me back!  Now I'm unemployed, spending way too much time with my cats.

This afternoon, after I took Kwinn, my Siamese cat, to his vet appointment (yes, he is still throwing up and I was told today he may need to be on steroids the rest of his life...which could be shortened if I so desire), I decided that I needed to get back into "work" mode so that I would be more enthusiastic about searching for a job.  I mean, lets face it, right now, after months of being ignored by recruiters and hiring managers, emails of "thanks, but we've already found our candidate", I'm losing my drive to keep going and I'm thinking of posting my resume as an experienced "Samurai Warrior" on Monster.com (I do have an obsession with Samurai's due to a college class I took once...I'll explain more about that later, but I did mention it in a previous posting.) just to see if I get any hits.  So, to get back into "work" mode, I made Kwinn and my other cat, Kat, sit down in my home office and have a corporate strategy meeting with me.

I know, this does sound insane, and I'm thinking if Pat (the boyfriend) reads this, he may reconsider moving his things into my house, but I felt compelled.  The order of business between myself, Kwinn and Kat was to discuss a gap analysis I came up with for a pseudo company, who was moving from their old software system to my recommended software system.  For those non-geeks out there, a gap analysis highlights what the existing company's software can do that my new improved software cannot.

I handed each of my felines a copy of the spreadsheet I made, showing what the existing "fake" software does versus what my software does.  They each glanced and sniffed at the paper placed in front of them.  Kwinn began to rub his whiskers on it to mark it as "his" and Kat just looked at me as if to ask where were the snacks that were promised for the meeting.  Of course, due to my narcissism, there were no gaps in what my software could offer, thus my meeting was rather abbreviated (and because the attention span of a cat is, well you know, short).

I truly understand that this might sound a bit weird and some of you may even be wondering if I'm still taking my medication, but I needed to do this.  It does help to feel like I haven't lost all of my consulting ability, and well, I have two cats who do nothing else but eat and sleep, and because they are strictly indoor cats, they are a captive audience, so it gives us all something to do.  Tomorrow we are going to go over the budget, and the day after that we will take a look at the project plan and decide if we can meet our milestones.  It will be a working lunch meeting and I've already promised salmon to those who show up on time.

--Fortuitous Observer

PS.  I know not everyone likes cats, so this link is for you cat haters of the world.

PSS.  This is a great blog if you are into silly cat pics with captions (whether or not you love or hate cats):

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Is a Spoonful of Peanut Butter an Acceptable Meal?

As a kid, and adolescent, a spoonful of peanut butter was all I needed as a quick snack between meals.  It's protein after all, and though it is high in fat, it is good fat, right?

I am acutely aware that my eating habits have become less predictable since being unemployed.  I'm on the computer all day (and I literally mean all day) job searching, writing, blogging, looking for ways to stop my Siamese from vomiting, reading self-help blogs to keep myself from committing hara-kiri (although the traditional samurai way requires a formal ceremony and I don't have the time to carry that out, and it makes a mess), etc.  With all of this on-line time, my meals have become a strange curiosity.

Breakfast is really the only true "meal" I eat during the day, and it usually consists of a slice of over-toasted Ezekiel bread (made from sprouts, not flour) with peanut butter, and half of a banana, washed down with a Diet Coke.  That is it until I start getting hungry around noon, and then I opt for a tablespoon of peanut butter and another Diet Coke.  Pat, the boyfriend, has a huge issue with my disgusting Diet Coke habit, and we are working on (though admittedly, I'm not putting too much effort into the "working on it" part).

Lunch doesn't really exist at my house anymore.  That spoonful of peanut butter is it until dinner.  Now, if Pat is here, we usually cook something very healthy (he is a vegetarian, unless bacon is involved, then he changes the label to "flexitarian" to allow for pork product consumption).  If Pat isn't here...yup, a spoonful of peanut butter will suffice for dinner, but with a glass of milk instead of another Diet Coke.

I would blame it on being lazy, but I'm not lazy.  I'm up at 5 am most mornings for a workout, then I run at least 2 miles in the afternoon a few times during the week, so I can't really say I'm lazy.  In my twenties, instead of a spoon of peanut butter for dinner, I would eat a bowl of cereal, usually Coca Krispies or Captain Crunch (but I got tired of the roof of my mouth being mangled by the Captain Crunch, so I only had that on special occasions).  I think I'm somehow reverting back to my twenty-something bad habits, and I'm not sure why.  I don't think my unemployed status is the true cause.  What if the internet is actually subtly sucking my brains (and everyone else's) out and filing all of my knowledge (or lack of) into this huge cyberspace library, which is being compiled for posterity?  Oh God, I have to get a job soon or I'm going to lose it, really.

By the way, I found this great article on why people love peanut butter:

Top 10 Reasons Americans Really Love Peanut Butter
When I think peanut butter, here's what I think of.
http://www.associatedcontent.comarticle/440092/top_10_reasons_americans_really_love.html

--Fortuitous Observer

Sometimes a Girl Has Just Gotta Cry

The world is so upside down.  I've known that for a while as it's been almost 5 months now since I was laid off from a great job.  A year ago I was living in downtown Nashville, having probably one of the best years of my life, job-wise and health-wise, and I decided to take a chance and by my first house, back in the Raleigh-Durham, NC area.  I got a great deal on my house and I was looking forward to gardening, painting, remodeling, etc.  Excited about doing things that new homeowners do.

Then it happened, the swinging corporate axe came down heavy on my company, and over 3000 of us were let go.  I immediately got an interview with another company and I thought I was going to be ok.  Turns out, the company I had the interview with instituted a hiring freeze and my final interview was scrapped "until further notice" which means "So sorry, we are now worried about our jobs."

It's ok, surely something will come along.  Everyone who reads my blog knows I've said I plan to be positive and remain optimistic about this situation, but sometimes a girl has just gotta cry.  I think I'm there now, sniffle, sniffle.

I'm not saying it is a bad thing.  It's good to cry.  I've realized that if I keep a positive attitude during this unemployment situation, it makes me feel ok, but then sometimes it hits like a sledge hammer to the nose and I just need to turn on the water works and release some of the anxiety that I try to hide.  Sometimes a girl has just gotta cry!

I've taken this opportunity to examine what it is that I really want to do, or not do.  I'm trying to get back in shape, where I was a year ago, and I'm keeping in mind that I might need to actually "change" and take a different road.  OK, enough of my sobbing.

Things could be so much worse right now.  For instance:

• my cat could decide that vomiting once a day just isn't enough
• my right calf could be an inch larger than my left one instead of just 1/4 of an inch
• the guy stalking my neighbor could be stalking me
• my parents could have stayed longer than 2 nights
• I could be going once a week for electric shock treatments (ok, that might actually not be a bad thing)

For those of you following along, we are now at Brady Bunch song #8, "Time to Change."  I hope everyone enjoys the 4th of July weekend!

--Fortuitous Observer

Joggers Beware: Geese are NOT Vegetarians...

Several weeks ago, on my daily run around the lake near my home, I was chased by a goose.  I didn't fault the goose because the goose's babies, or goslings to be correct, had just hatched, and I'm sure they were concerned that I was up to no good, and that I would do something sinister, like eat their babies, kidnap them and put them up for sale in the underground goose market, or kick punt them into the lake.  I love animals, but they didn't know that.

Now that the goslings are a bit older and stronger, you would think the geese would leave me alone.  I run around that lake almost every day, and if I haven't touched the babies by now, I'm not going to.  That isn't good enough for these geese.  I'm still a potential rapscallion, out to do harm.  Today, while doing my usual 2 mile run, I spotted a goose in the running path ahead of me.  He seemed to be hanging out, minding his business, and as I got closer, I slowed my speed a bit, just in case the goose wanted to cross in front of me.  He didn't.  He wanted to eat me!  OK, maybe not exactly devour me, but he squawked and ran toward me, beak wide open!  I didn't think geese attacked unless provoked, or if they are protecting their babes.  Maybe I scared him.  I also thought geese were vegetarians and that I would not be a likely meal.  Not the case (I looked it up when I got back home:  http://www.poultrypages.com/goose-facts.html)!  They like a little meat in their diet.

I talked to the goose, assuring him I was not going to hurt him, his mate or his children.  Even though I'm unemployed, I can still pay for food, explaining that I was not out foraging for dinner and uninterested in goose liver pate at the moment.

He seemed to accept this and backed off to let me pass.  Whew.  I ran what was left of my 2 mile trail, headed back home, made sure I had no fowl in my fridge, and spent the rest of the afternoon contemplating a stiff drink rather than job searching.

--Fortuitous Observer

Whatever Happened to the Rejection Letter?

I'm now well into month number 4 of unemployment and I know I'm not the only one experiencing this (or at least I hope I'm not the only one) sad cyber space scenario.  I spend a few hours of each morning job searching.  I send out resumes and cover letters, accompanied by letters of recommendation.  I get nothing.  Nada.  Nil.  No response.  In the 4 months that I've been job searching, I think I've actually received only two letters of rejection, nothing else that even leads me to believe my resume is being read.  Every other submission seems to be going into a big black hole in cyber space.

I'll be the first to admit that job searching is easier these days.  When I first started working, I paid someone to type up my resume on resume stock paper, then I would peruse the want ads in the various newspapers, and snail mail my resume, with a cover letter to the address provided, usually a PO Box.  We now have online job searching, but this comes with it's own set of problems, the biggest problem (in my humble opinion) is anonymity.

Online job postings are submitted either by a third-party (recruiting firms) or by the hiring company themselves, but sometimes they keep their company name and information private, which means most of the time I have no clue what/where I'm applying to.  Remember the follow-up letter?  I used to be very good about sending a follow-up card in the mail if I hadn't heard back from a potential employer.  Now, I have no way to send a follow-up because I don't know who/where it goes.  When I submit a resume online, I sometimes get an email confirming my resume has been sent, but it is a "do not reply to" email address.  Basically, "don't call us, we'll call you."  Sure you will.

If anyone out there has any suggestions or creative ways of following-up to online submissions, I would love to hear them!  Truly, I would.  In the meantime, I'll continue on with my job searching journey of course, and I'm still trying to keep from getting discouraged, but isn't it sad when one actually celebrates receiving a rejection letter?  It gives me the perception that someone did pick up my resume and read it, even if they did decide that I am not worthy of their company, at least I feel like I've been noticed!

--Fortuitous Observer

If I Were a Cricket...(More Ramblings from Unemployment Land)

For two nights in a row I’ve heard crickets chirping madly outside my bedroom window.  After a bit, they start to grate on my nerves.  The way they communicate sounds almost like Morse Code.  One has a high-pitched chirp and the other responds with a very low-pitched chirp; or maybe it is just one cricket making high and low chirps.  Maybe it is a cricket talking to himself.  I wonder if crickets do that.  Maybe he is schizophrenic!  If humans can have mental diseases, why can’t crickets?

At times, this continuous chirping conversation can be annoying, but it does make me start thinking strange thoughts that then spiral of out control.  Could it be possible that crickets find us annoying?  Maybe they grow irritated after listening to a group of children playing outside in the summer dusk (who doesn't).  Crickets probably mark their calendars off, day by day, counting down the days until kids have to go back to school in the fall.  Then they have the outdoors to themselves again.  I would be annoyed if I was a cricket if I just wanted to jam with my cricket friends and a bunch of loud little rug rats were screaming and stepping on me.

Why stop at crickets?  I mean, if it’s possible that humans annoy crickets, then I’m sure we annoy all other insects and animals.

Sometimes I wish I was a cricket.  Think about it.  They live simply to exist.  They don’t worry about paying bills, job searching, exercise, money, if I could only win the lottery, etc.  They just eat and chirp and breed.  They don’t have to figure out their place in the world.  Ah, to be a cricket.  I have not realized my place in this world, and unemployment keeps me feeling out of sync, off track if you will.  Maybe I’m only off track by a quarter of an inch.  Incredibly frustrating to be so close to realizing my path, yet nothing seems to push me enough to get into that track.  How simple things would be...if I were a cricket.

--Fortuitous Observer