Life Skills Resume -OR- Mommy Magic

I was thinking about what my resume might look like if I were simply honest.  I mean, not that my resume isn’t honest – it totally is – but it’s honest work stuff and not necessarily honest life stuff.  Does that make sense?  I mean, resumes are supposed to be all about how awesome you are at your job; the stuff you do that earns you a paycheck.  But what if we got paid for knowing and doing and being other stuff? 

For example:

SUMMARY:  Hard-working, committed mother of two with over 42 years of experience in the field of General Life.  Extensive background in service and commitment with a well-established ability to sacrifice for the sake of others.  Ability to meet important deadlines and complete homework projects.  Solid Internet research skills and a familiarity with multiple technical medias as they relate to networking and child appropriateness levels.  Child-friendly with ability to entertain biological children as well as children of others in a trusted, safe environment where they are encouraged to thrive.  Strong written, verbal, and interpersonal skills coupled with an ability to win in a family- or self-driven environment. 

EDUCATION: School of Hard Knocks

RELATED SKILLS:

• Proper coffee making
• Proper table setting
• Proper bed making
• Basic Mathematics
• Strong English Language vocabulary and grammar
• Proficient reading
• Excellent table manners
• Good hygiene, oral and body
• Above-average technical
• Quirky fashion sense
• Don’t have to keep up with The Jonses
• Extensive knowledge of Alone-Time benefits and recuperative powers
• Deep, enduring and life-affirming animal appreciation

I could add stuff like:

• Can make a campfire
• Can make macaroni and cheese
• Can pour without spilling
• Can color within the lines
• Can be serious or silly, depending on need
• Am thought to have certain magical abilities to include: having eyes in the back of my head, Extra Sensory Perception, Trouble identification, Boo-boo Care, and the ability to make red lights turn green with a wave of my fingers
• Am known to have a direct line to Santa, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny (et al) and can contact any and all on short notice with behavior updates

I wonder what one would get paid for skills such as these?  Should my General Life job be considered my second job, or should it be considered my first job, and my job-job would then become my second job?  Am I confusing you yet?

Something to consider.  

My brain hurts.  I think I need coffee.  Or a glass of wine.

TTFN

JMS

Odor Eaters

I find it hard to write anything flippant, or in the vein of my usual sarcastic posts, after my last post about the loss of my friend.  I cannot, however, continue to ignore the fact that my flippant and sarcastic ways are rearing their ugly heads sooner than I might otherwise like or deem appropriate.  So please forgive me for the sharp turn in the other direction.

***

There I am – sitting at my desk at the office – when I begin to realize that something is wrong.  It’s an odor.  An offensive odor.  A pervading, sickly sweet odor with an undercurrent of something else equally as off-putting.  Imagine if you will, a human body which has not seen a bath or a shower in several days coupled with layers of gardenia scent added in a failed attempt to mask the body odor.  I’m shuddering just remembering this.  It was nauseating.  And, though we who investigated still haven’t definitively solved the mystery of the awful, all-encompassing scent that permeated the entire east end of the building, it is gone now, hopefully never to return.

Why?  Why would I tell you this brief, but horrible story?  Simply this: There are some people who are of the mistaken belief that the world revolves around them.  Some of those same sadly misguided individuals also believe what they do (say/think) could not possibly affect anyone else.  And further, why would someone’s use of scent, in whatever form, be offensive to me?  Because, I happen to be one of those unfortunate individuals who is highly sensitive to scents, perfumes, colognes, after-shaves, scented candles…you get the picture.  They make my eyes water, my lungs seize (remember, I’m asthmatic), and even on occasion nauseate me – as was the case with the particular odor described above.

I would very much like to understand what possesses a person to continue to wear scent such as described above, to a place of business.  Has the media chatter (social or otherwise) over the last however many years not made you a believer in a non-scented workplace?  

To put it another way, how many times have you walked by the break room (should you be fortunate enough to have one at work) and wondered, “Good grief!  What is that smell?”  You know full-well that someone just reheated their garlic & onion salmon from the night before.  (I don’t know if there really is such a thing as garlic & onion salmon, but it was the most malodourous food I could think of on short notice.)  Or maybe someone just took their shoes off under the desk.  Either way, it stinks.  And that smell has now invaded the pores of your skin and you feel as if you are traveling with it wherever you go.  It’s off-putting, to say the least, and makes you really want to bathe.

Food odor issues at the workplace not-withstanding, let’s talk about personal scent.  Yup – we’ve all got one.  Our very own, gifted to us at birth, personal scent.  Not taking into account the soap and shampoo we may use at shower-time.  The deodorant we may use after bathing.  (Yes, please?)  And now, let’s consider it finished, shall we?  Pretty please?  You do not need two layers of scented body lotion, a dab of perfume behind each ear, at the base of your throat or on your wrists, or even that scented body spray.  And please, if you’re even considering patchouli, just…don’t.  You’ll do us all a favor.  However, if you feel you must apply so liberally the created scent as enhancement to your natural one – stay home.  No one particularly feels like smelling the odor-trail you’re leaving behind. 

Those of us trying to work will thank you.  You may not know we’re thanking you…but we are.  I promise.

TTFN
JMS

Tidbits

Girl-child’s 8^th birthday is this Sunday and she wants to take a friend to Build-a-Bear and then to out for lunch (or maybe lunch first).  This is the same thing she did last year and she was absolutely thrilled with it.  I think her chosen friend is excited, too.  Girl-child was given the option of a party at the church or something a little more special; she chose The Special.  Boy-child’s 11^th birthday is the 26^th (yes – both my kiddos are March babies) and he wants to take a friend to Jump Jam.  He was given the same option as his sister and also chose The Special.  Lunch, too, of course.  Trying to get all that worked out, plus figure out when we can go up to visit the aunts and uncles and grandparents who want to wish them a happy birthday, too.  March is always a little overwhelming for me.  Plus, my sister’s birthday is the 30^th.  Sigh.  I guess I’d better get on that, too.

***

Planning to attend another girl’s night next Friday (the 13^th…woo) and we’re going to have a St. Patrick’s Day meal; Corned Beef and Cabbage (yum!).  We do a pot-luck meal, but trying to feed all of us is, as usual, proving to be difficult.  One is a Glutard (no – I’m not being mean, that’s what she calls herself!  She’s gluten-intolerant.); another doesn’t eat veggies, another is diabetic, I’m counting calories.  Sheesh.  But it always works out and there’s always a lot of fun and laughter.  (Just in case you’re wondering, I’m bringing spinach artichoke dip, which feeds the gluten intolerant, the diabetic and me.  Even the veggiephobe says she actually likes spinach if it’s cooked in something or in a salad!)

***

I was up and at ‘em this morning with a crick in my neck.  Painful, yes – but mostly just annoying.  Who likes not being able to turn their head left and right?  Not me, that’s for sure.

***

I made dinner last night.  Hubby helped.  The kids always ask for my ranch chicken so last night, it was made.  Both kiddos scarfed down three pieces of chicken (I use the smaller chicken tender strips) before hubby had even gotten to the table.  Plus steamed red potatoes and green peas and dinner was proclaimed by all to be a wild success.  Go me!  (Yeah – we all know how much I hate to cook – but that doesn’t mean that I can’t cook.  It used to be that I could burn water – truly, there are witnesses to this – but I’ve managed to figure things out.)

***

One week to go and then I’m taking a week off for Spring Break.  Not going anywhere.  However I believe I am renting a dumpster and throwing everything in my house away that isn’t nailed down or absolutely necessary.  I’ve already discovered they won’t deliver a P.O.D.S. to my house so we can’t just store stuff out of the way.  I suppose a yard sale this Spring is vital.  Anyone want a buncha junk?

TTFN

JMS

Shut the front door!

I suppose the best thing I can do is to begin by saying this (and really, most of what I write) is an opinion piece.  I don’t expect anyone to bend to my will or see things my way but I sure as heck am going to tell you what I think because, after all, this is my blog.  As Phil Williams says, “This is my opinion; feel free to make it yours.”

In all my years working in an office environment I’ve seen a lot of things.  I’ve been around so many different kinds of people that quirks, habits and other idiosyncrasies tend to roll off me like water off a duck’s back.  Yeah, I get irritated and sometimes think unkind things but it’s rare (very rare, in fact) that I say anything about them.  I might even have a good old fashioned Bitch Session (forgive me) with my girlfriends – but not in a way that will specifically hurt anyone.  However, I must now take a stand.  I must pull out my well-worn soap box, climb atop it, and preach to the highest heavens.

****

In every, single, iteration of office-life that I’ve lived, there are these wonderful inventions called Conference Rooms.  These rooms are to be used for…well…conferences.  Meetings.  Gatherings of a multiple-attendee nature.  They sometimes have windows with nice views, or are simply four walls, a projector, a projection screen and, maybe, a white-board with (hopefully) non-scented dry-erase markers.  Whatever.

Also, in every, single, iteration of office-life that I’ve lived, there are these equally wonderful inventions called Conference Room Doors.  These doors are to be used for…well…closing.  And opening.  And closing, again.  They are for secluding the meeting-gatherers inside the aforementioned Conference Room in order to have a private meeting.  They are also for making sure meeting-gatherers do not disturb those sitting in the immediate vicinity.

I am, in fact, one of those sitting in the immediate vicinity of a conference room.  It is right directly across the hall from my office.   I am supposed to leave the door to my office open – at least ajar – so people don’t feel like they are unwanted; they should feel free to come in at any time.  (A closed door is a visual barrier, a wordless message to stay out, and some people are hesitant to cross that barrier - even by knocking and announcing their presence.)  However when folks meeting in the conference room across the hall leave the door open, I must shut mine. 

I’m glad there’s levity, or intense conversations, video or voice conferences.  I’m glad people have meetings to work out their issues or find a path forward.  But there is no need to include me by proxy.

Putting it plainly, for the love of all that is peaceful and quiet and productive in this world: SHUT THE *@#$!!! DOOR!  The rest of the world does not need to hear you, and more to the point, you are disturbing the rest of the office by leaving the door open. 

Pretty please?

Thank you.  That is all.  I shall now thoughtfully, and gratefully, put away my soap box.

TTFN

JMS

Mornings in days of yore

You know how they say never to blog, post on social media, do anything or say anything about work because you run the risk of putting your job in jeopardy should someone take offense to something you’ve said or done?  This post isn’t that, I promise, but it does have to do with the fact that I have a job and how my current job has changed my home life for the better.  

A little over seven months ago I accepted a new job.  Taking into account my opening paragraph, I won’t talk about where I work or what I do at work except to say what you already know, I’m an administrative assistant.  I do that.  I love my job for lot of reasons, I truly do, but there’s one reason that overshadows all the others.  Since taking this job, I have been able to see my kiddos every morning.  This is something that has really never been possible before, either because of timing or because of distance.  I am absolutely so grateful for the close proximity of my new job and the fact that the time I start allows me to spend a little bit of time with my babies.

In days of yore, I was gone before they woke up.  At work before the sun even considered rising above the horizon.  Now, not only can I get a shower in the morning, I can help wake up my sleepy-headed girl-child.  Maybe help her figure out what to wear; help her get dressed. She requires a very steady hand, a gentle voice and lots of coaxing to rouse her from her slumber.  She does not like to get up and will do everything in her power to delay putting feet to floor.  And even with all the gentle coaxing, tickles, smiles and kisses in the hopes that she’ll smile and wrap her warm little arms around your neck, some days, it doesn’t matter one whit and she’s just gonna be a grump and everything is going to be wrong with her world.

I can talk about stuff with my always-ready-to-go-up-at-the-BCOD boy-child. He tends to be awake already when my alarm goes off and by the time I get out of the shower, he is happy and bouncy and full of it (you know when I mean).  He’s pretty self-sufficient but usually it’s when he’s trying to get dressed that he can’t find a pair of socks or he (in his mind) doesn’t have any clean jeans/t-shirts to wear or can’t find something he needs for school.  He’s kind of scatterbrained in that way, even though he’s so smart it’s scary.  Unfortunately, I think he gets the scatterbrain from his mom.  But he’s the complete and total opposite of his little sister.  She requires finesse.  He doesn’t.

They’re old enough now that they can get their own cereal, pour their own milk, and get their own spoons.  But I get to witness the fact that they’re eating a healthy breakfast.  I can help get them ready for the day.  I can spend time with them.  This is something that I’ve never had before.

Then, when I’ve got my jacket on and I’m pulling my keys out of my purse…all part of my new routine…my kiddos have started a routine, too.  They come away from the table where they’re munching on cereal to hug me – each in turn – and then, when I go into the kitchen to collect my lunch box (hubby packs my lunch, bless him) and kiss hubby on the cheek, I head to the front hallway on my way out of the house and find both kiddos, lined up in front of the door expecting more hugs.  It’s awesome.

Though I’m definitely not a morning person (my girl-child probably gets her intense dislike of mornings from me), I must admit mornings have become my favorite part of the day.

TTFN
JMS

SERIES: Email Diseases: How they affect your life and how you can avoid them (Issue 1: Reply All Syndrome)

In my professional life as an administrative assistant, I see a lot of email.  And I mean a lot of email.  Tons.  I’ve seen all manner of badly written email.  SHOUTY CAPITAL LETTERS.  the perpetual lowercase user.  The Forgetter of Punctuation.  Let’s not forget individuals who do not care how a word should be used grammatically, or how it should be spelled; if it looks good, or perhaps is one of those words favored by that particular individual, even if it has nothing whatsoever to do with the context of what they are writing, they will use it.

Today, I shall touch upon something that, if I am being truthful, annoys the crap out of me.  Something I am certain you, fellow email user, have either encountered or have (GASP!) been guilty of.  Frankly, as email users, we are all guilty of this from time-to-time, but the ramifications…well…the ramifications could be at least embarrassing, at worst damaging, and always annoying.

The REPLY ALL Syndrome

So there you are.  You’re buckled down.  You’re focused.  You’re organized and getting stuff done.  You are feeling productive and your day is moving along very nicely.  You receive an email which has been sent to…for the sake of this argument…over two hundred recipients.  You do your due diligence, open the email, read the information contained therein, and think hm…looks like they forgot to include the date on which this event they’re telling us all about is going to happen.  (I’m making stuff up, just stay with me for a bit.)  Just as you are considering your reply, another email pops through with the same subject.  You think hm…looks like someone got to it before I did; let’s see what they say.  You open the new email, observe that the responder has come to the same conclusion that you did (the event date is missing) and further, has taken the liberty of responding not only to the original sender of the email, but also to everyone on the original distribution list. 

This secondary individual in this example (we’ll call him The Responder) has a disease.  It is called The Reply All Syndrome, or RAS, for short.  It’s contagious.  And it spreads like wildfire.

In the blink of an eye, two more emails hit your in-box in response to the original email notifying you about the event.  Rapid fire REPLY ALL.  And quickly, three more.  Each email saying essentially the same thing, “What is the date of the event?”  Now, not only has your day been interrupted once (the original email) but before you could say "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" your day has been interrupted seven more times.  And it’s only just beginning.  Pretty soon, you get one brilliant responder who decides that it’s up to him to respond to everyone to ask everyone to please discontinue Replying to All.  It is at that point where you, who were so productive and focused earlier, are now totally distracted to the point of considering slamming your head into the nearest hard surface, wall, whatever.  Full-on Face Plant on your desk out of sheer frustration.

We’ve all been there, ladies and gentlemen.  And unfortunately, we’ve all been guilty of it, too.  However, there is a difference between accidentally hitting the Reply All button and doing it on purpose.  Let me give you a hint: If everyone on the original email absolutely must receive information which is vital to their continued existence or to the subject matter at hand, then yes, by all means, select Reply All.  If your response is based on a feeling – for example, you feel you should let everyone know that the date of an event was missed – please, for the sake of all that is good and organized and free-flowing in this world, respond only to the original sender! 

You could respond to the original sender with something like Hey – you may have already gotten this several times, and I apologize if my email is just one of many, but I wonder if you realize you neglected to include the date of the event?  If you would please let us know when said event is to occur, I sure would appreciate it. 

OK – maybe not exactly like that.  But wouldn’t you much rather receive an email response such as the example above, even if you have already gotten several, than over a hundred Reply All responses?

There is a cure for this disease.  It is called Conscientious Attention to Detail or CAD, for short.  CAD is not something that comes naturally for humans.  It is something to which we need to aspire.  We are born with a natural immunity, if you will, to CAD.  CAD must be actively practiced, on a minute-by-minute, day-by-day basis.  It must become habit to become an effective cure for Reply All Syndrome.  Unfortunately, in today’s society of instant gratification, CAD is rare.  Texting, truncating words to fit within a certain character limitation, or simply a gradual (and sometimes not-so-gradual) slide away from proper usage of language is prevalent.  Therefore we must be diligent!  We must be attentive!  We must constantly consider how our actions (or non-actions) are going to affect others!  But again I say, this instant gratification society is also a “Me” society.  How many of you have said, “Well, it (whatever it is) doesn’t affect me so therefore why should I bother?”

I think I have just made my case.

SWISH! Score one for Tangent.

TTFN
JMS

Cross Posted: http://tananda.com

Broken Windows and Creative Wordsmithing

Things have not been so awesome the last couple of days.  Details omitted to protect the innocent.  And frankly, I really don’t want to talk about it anyway.

Remember that post I wrote a few days ago about just waiting on the sky to fall or the other shoe to drop?  That one.  Remember?  Well let’s elaborate on that, shall we?

Aside from just a lot of stress at home and (as usual) too much stuff going on, today I decided to go through a drive-thru for breakfast.  Something I very rarely do, but I was hungry today.  I’ve always had trouble with the manual crank on the driver’s window.  Yes, I said manual – there is no auto-anything on my car, except that it is, in fact, and automobile.  Anyway – Hubby has recently fixed said window and until this morning, things were working better than usual.  But trying to roll down the window at the drive-thru was nearly impossible.  I thought maybe the mechanism was just stiff from being so cold, but no.  Upon exiting the drive-thru with my food I pulled over to the side of the parking lot to arrange things – like I usually do – and tried to roll up the window.  I’d barely touched it when it went *POP* and then *SHUNK* and before I could blink the whole window was inside the door – un-roll-up-able.  (I made that word up.  Deal with it.)

So now, since I’ve wasted time by going through a drive-thru, I have no time to go home and switch vehicles.  I call Hubby, tell him the thing is broken, and continue on to work – with the window all the way open in 20-something degree weather.  It was FRIKKIN’ COLD!  It took me all morning to warm up and my little space heater was working overtime.  Not a good day for the thermostat in the office to hover at 68° for most of the morning.

It was warmer driving home.  Plus, I had the added benefit of having grabbed my large, black, hooded, zippy-uppy (hush, you Grammar Nazi!) sweatshirt from the office so I had that on under my jacket.

And now Hubby tells me that it will take a couple weeks for the part to come in.  I don’t remember what it’s called.  Some car part that just the mention of will set my eyes twitching and my teeth on edge.  Now, get me talking about coffee or cats or kids (too bad kids didn’t start with a “C” or that could have been a fine example of alliteration) and I’m totally good.

This should be a fun couple of weeks.  I would really appreciate the assurance that nothing else is going to happen?  You can do that, right?

TTFN

JMS

Stinkin' Thinkin'

Why is it, when things are going well, you (well…I) wait for the other shoe to drop?  The jinx to occur.  The sky to fall.  The rug to be pulled out from under my feet.  You get the picture?  I’m happy where I am and I keep waiting on something to happen.  I guess I feel like if I wait for it, then when it occurs, I’m prepared.  Or, as prepared as one can ever be.

 

When I got laid off from my job a few years ago, it was completely and totally unexpected.  "They" spent a lot of time assuring everyone that, though there were big changes afoot within the company, no one had to worry about their jobs.  And then, once said changes took place, they immediately began laying people off.  I was one of the lucky ones that received The Pink Slip Of Doom in the first round.

 

And folks wonder why, when things are going well, I say, “Yeah, for now.”

 

To me, it’s not negative thinking.  Stinkin’ Thinkin’.  It is self-preservation.  If I prepare for the worst, or at least the bad, then the blow isn’t quite as devastating.  

 

In truth, I suppose it really doesn’t work that way.

 

TTFN
JMS

PS: No. Nothing is wrong. And that's what scares me.

Minecraft is bad for the memory

My children are getting along.  Voluntarily spending time with each other.  I'm not entirely sure what to do right now, actually.  Yeah, yeah - enjoy it while it lasts.  I know.  Thanks - with all the sarcasm I can muster.

Today, I got distracted from a purpose by Minecraft.  (I know there will be a small contingent of you who do not know what Minecraft is, so I have provided a link for your edification and reading pleasure.) There I was, headed to the storage room, on a mission, when I run into four or five guys standing in the hallway discussing Minecraft.  They asked for my two cents (or, rather, I gave it to them...you know me) and then when I continued on my purposeful journey to aforementioned storage room I had totally forgotten why I went there in the first place.  For the life of me, I couldn't remember.  I still don't remember.  Not that it really matters, though, I suppose.  Although it makes me wonder what else I'm forgetting.

I guess I'm getting old.  It goes along with the hot-flashes.  (Yes, I did just say that out loud.  Get over it.)

And that, my beloved friends and readers, is about all I can muster today.

TTFN
JMS

Advice, Given & Received

A friend of mine said something to me the other day that resonated with me in a way very few things do these days.  We were discussing my anxiety over a certain project and she said, “You’re just anxious about [the project] because you care.”  (I’m paraphrasing.)

Holy moly!

Okay – so it may not be such a moment for you, but it was for me.  I do tend to get anxious about the outcome of things and she’s right, my level of anxiety is directly related to how much I care about the project or thing that I’m working on, or people the project will affect.  The more anxious or stressed out I am, the more I care about what I’m doing.  I never really thought about it in that way before, but…wow...I've definitely thought about it now.

It’s kind of wild (and maybe, if I am being honest, a little disconcerting) to have someone who isn’t me know me, in some ways, better than I know myself.  If this person were just about anyone else, I might have brushed it off and not thought another thing about it.  But my friend, being who she is, means that paying attention is practically a requirement.  This is a good thing.  It's folks like her who you want to listen to.

This probably isn’t going to really change anything – knowing my anxiety vs. care ratio – but it does fall into the category of Best Advice I’ve Ever Been Given.  And, though I suppose it wasn’t exactly advice, either, I am still putting it squarely in the BAIEBG column because it fits there.

Here’s another example of great advice given to me.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away (sorry – don’t smack me) I worked in a jewelry store in Old Town, Alexandria, VA.  The store owner was brash and difficult and we butted heads…often.  I loved my job.  I loved the jewelry.  I wanted to love my boss, too, but she made it very difficult.

One day, a co-worker pulled me aside and advised, “You’ve got to listen to what she is saying, not how she is saying it.  Do that, and you and [boss lady] will get along just fine.”  (I’m not paraphrasing here – I actually remember this one word-for-word.  Hm…how odd that the above advice was given only yesterday -or maybe it was last week- and I can’t remember the exact words, but this thing that took place nearly 20 years ago, I remember verbatim.)

I don’t remember exactly what happened after except to say that my life got infinitely better after that sound wisdom was imparted to me.  Even now, as a much older adult, I occasionally have to remind myself of those words.  Listen to what they are saying, not how they are saying it.

It's good advice, don't you think?  I think it can be effective in both your personal life, and your professional one.

TTFN

JMS

Tananda Dot Com - Everybody, Somebody, Anybody and Nobody *OR* Does Anyone Do Anything Around Here? (Cross Posted)

Hey Everybody!

Would Somebody please check out my newest article on Tananda.com?

http://tananda.com/2014/06/everybody-somebody-anybody-and-nobody-or-does-anyone-do-anything-around-here/

Anybody can get to it.

Unless Nobody wants to.

TTFN
JMS