What's YOUR sleep number?

It's the first week of classes on campus. Everyone is pretty much moved in at this point, but there were some late arrivals earlier this week.

I was walking past the dormitories closest to my office when I saw a mattress company delivering, well, a mattress, to one of the dorms. It made me wonder if it was a special order for a student, or simply housing replacing a mattress demolished from parties the weekend prior.

Yes, our students order their own mattresses fairly regularly. In fact, there are so many Tempurpedic mattresses on campus that, when everyone was moving out in May, they had a few huge mobile storage units taking up a number of our staff parking spaces so students could store their super special mattress over the summer. FYI, a twin long basic Tempurpedic is about $800. That's in addition to whatever mattress these students have at home and, of course, the free one we provide. Sure, it's not great, but these are also 18 year old college students. I wasn't aware they would already be attuned to things like sleep numbers.

One of my college roommates was diagnosed with congenital scoliosis as a young child. Her spine was in the shape of a question mark. She endured multiple surgeries as a little girl and into her teenage years. She had a metal rod fused into her spine to help correct her limp. Her progress was extraordinary, though she continues to walk with a slight limp and one leg will always be noticeably weaker than the other.

So, Erin, with her severe back problem, survived four years of college without a special mattress. Every year, she brought a cardboard panel, likely cut at Home Depot, for under her university provided mattress and an egg crate to place between the mattress and her mattress pad. It was all she needed.

And her parents were not short on cash.

As a side note she went to Yale Med and is completing her reisidency at Mass General in Boston, where she spends hours on her feet.

Just sayin...

On cheers and jeers for Starbucks...

This week has gotten off to a marvelous start thanks, in part, to the Starbucks gift card I received as a belated birthday present last week. I've been making pilgrimages on my way to work each morning this week, reveling in my ability to purchase $4 coffee drinks with no hit to the wallet.

This morning I did notice, however, that Starbucks has made a major mistake in rolling out their fall menu prematurely. I looked in horror as I saw the Pumpkin Spice Latte advertised! Now, I realize that there are many other parts of the country, my home state included, whose weather, as of late, has been more fall like. But I don't care who you are and where you're from, it is STILL August and advertising autumn drinks is enough to put Starbucks on notice... until..

I saw the sign (and it opened up my mind) indicating Starbucks is now making their drinks with 2% milk! You now have to REQUEST whole (or skim) for your customized beverage. Now THAT is what I'm talking about. Keep the freedom in indulge there, but don't make it part of the standard package. And, to brighten my faith in Starbucks even more, they didn't pull a McDonald's with me and ask if "I'd like to super savor my drink with whole milk today". So, I say "Well done!" Starbucks. Thanks for making it more difficult for me to expand my bevvy belly, while still allowing me the freedom to do so if the stress level deems it necessary.

On managing not to cry...

Today was so very unexpected.

Turns out my team, the one I've been "rebuilding" in a seemingly never ending fashion in my 20 months on the job, orchestrated quite a surprise for me today. Using my boss in order to access my calendar and "deliver the package", they managed to "kidnap" me for a belated birthday lunch. They planned the whole thing, completely surprised me, treated me to lunch, an adorable birthday card, a $40 Starbucks card, a book I've been wanting, and another book just for fun. When I came downstairs with my boss to "say hello to a visiting colleague" and saw my staffers standing there yelling "SURPRISE!", well, if you know me at all, you'll know it took everything in my power not to cry.

I have felt unloved, unliked, unwanted, you name it, at this job since day one. Some people can just rise above that and move on but, if you've read this blog before, you know I've really struggled with it. I've had a few allies here and there, but, overall, it's just not been a warm and fuzzy place. When you've always been a boss in a particular place, perhaps that's just the name of the game. Simply put, if you had told me even six months ago that such a thing would take place, I would have laughed in your face given the players at the time.

Clearly, however, times have changed.

It was such a wonderful gift. I was truly overwhelmed. At the risk of sounding like a cheeseball, I hope this is the dawn of a new day.

Still, I'm really really really happy I managed not to cry.

On reminders of more important things...

My work day was busy. Typical meetings, putting out fires and so on, but, also, lots of personal counseling. I'm trying to be better about checking in with my staff, it's something I'm quite dreadful at, but I'm slowly learning the importance of the manager/staffer relationship beyond e-mail. Yes, I'm pathetic. Anyway, without even trying I found myself learning of and counseling different staff members through, the following scenarios:

When do I call the guy I've been e-mailing for the past 3 weeks thanks to a virtual "set up" from a mutual friend? He called me Sunday. We've e-mailed since and mentioned talking again. Should I call him tomorrow? (My answer was no, call him on this coming Sunday, in case you were interested.)

So my best friend is moving to Jordan next week to take a job with the UN and he springs on me this morning that his feelings for me are more than friendship, how do I feel and what can we do? (My response? Hell, I have no clue.)

I'm really freaked out about my interview today. (internal candidate applying for a promotion) What do I do if I don't get it? (Not take it out on me and not resign. Ok, that's not exactly how I said it.)

So my once supportive fiance whom I left 3 weeks ago to come to DC for this job opportunity has announced he's packing up and leaving me and taking my dogs to the pound. (Hell, that one even made me cry. And we both confess to only caring about the dogs.)

The timing of these counseling sessions wasn't so great. I'm busy as hell at work. But, then again, it felt really good to be a confidante again. I specialized in this stuff in prior jobs, people just trusted me and valued my opinion. Fools. While I know I haven't been fully responsible for isolating myself in my current position, I have made concerted efforts to keep things professional. I fear, however, that I've done this too much and, as such, have missed out on some great opportunities to connect with people and build trust. I know it's a fine line, but maybe I just have to give a bit more of me, particularly in light of my new hires, to build that loyalty and spirit of teamwork I've wanted all along. It felt good to be there for people. It always has. Even when I don't have the answers, it still feels good to tag along for the journey of finding them.

On the benefit of the doubt..

I'm making a concerted effort, as of late, to be less reactionary. Take a deep breath, don't respond to that e-mail right away, don't let my emotions get the best of me type of approach. I'm hopeful I will emerge a kinder, gentler Celtic Not because of it. Today I was reminded that I'm not the only one who could use this approach.

I arrived at work this morning and checked my voice mail. Here was the first message that greeted me:

"This is Mr. XXXXXX. My daughter UUU UUUUUUUUU has left voice mail after voice mail after voice mail after voice mail for you and you have NEVER RETURNED HER CALL. YOU NEED TO CALL HER BACK! I have lost faith in sending her there and you NEED TO CALL HER BACK. This is unacceptable!"

Click.

I have never, not once, received a voice mail from this girl. Now, I am willing to concede that perhaps, one day, she left a message for me with a garbled name and/or phone number and therefore her chance of a phone call in return went out the window. I am also willing to concede that she may have, at one time, left me a voice mail that I forwarded to someone else for response. But if she was leaving me multiple messages, they certainly weren't getting to my mailbox.

This voice mail left me so upset, so angry and even on the verge of tears. I get beat up during a fair share of my day. It's one of the perks of being the fake boss. Every day I get better at rolling with the punches, but to get the knock down for something I had nothing to do with, well, it was a rough way to start the day.

I forwarded the message onto my colleague responsible for her type of inquiry (the original one, not having a jackass for a father), and sent an e-mail as well, begging him to call them today. He assured me he was already on it, had heard from them yesterday, and was in control.

I decided I still had to call the girl back. I did, and when she answered, I couldn't tell if her tone was clueless or smug. I decided I'd take a balanced approach, apologize for any miscommunication, but remind her that the version of our interactions as recounted to me via her father's voice mail wasn't quite how I remembered it.

"Hi UUU. I'm glad that EEEEEE has been in touch with you about your situation. I did want to address the very angry voice mail your father left me. I'm sorry if you left me multiple messages but I don't recall hearing from you more than once. Anything I did receive I passed onto my colleague, not making excuses, but I'm glad that you're linked in and taken care of now."

She knew about his voice mail and made no apologies. She then went on to recount she sent me an e-mail to which I responded, sent a letter which she never heard back from (likely misdirected or not attended to by my colleague) and left me a message once (that I forwarded onto my colleague).

"Oh, ok. So you never left multiple messages for me to which I didn't respond. Ok. Well, again, so sorry for the confusion, glad it is all worked out and, again, my apologies that we didn't get back to you as we should have. If you have any other questions, you certainly know how to reach us."

It came out nicer than it sounds. I swear. And it's another good reminder that the benefit of the doubt can, more often than not, be the best approach. Even if you're right, and you've been mistreated, better to come off as a fair and mild mannered person than a raving lunatic.

On just two scoops a day

My dear friend Ashley just fetched her cat from me. As she and her family vacationed in our shared home state of Maine, Cory and I played host to their delightfully fluffy but never affectionate cat, Oreo. I was happy to help out this friend who does so much for me, particularly because I love animals, but must admit to breathing a sigh of relief this evening as Oreo returned home.

Don't get me wrong. I absolutely loved having a pet around me again. Still, I always carry a sense of anxiety when I pet sit or babysit. That sense of "Oh God, something is going to go wrong," haunts me throughout the care taking. With Oreo, I was convinced I was going to overfeed her. Oreo had it figured out. She cried and cried and cried for food constantly. "Two scoops a day," I was instructed, "One in the morning and one in the evening." Easy enough, right?

Oreo sat by her food dish and cried for most of her 15 days with us. Whenever we'd get up, she'd run to her food dish, pleading with us to fill it, as if she'd been in a kitty concentration camp for months. With Cory home much of the days still enjoying his summer vacation, it was hard to stay strong. So she broke us. Oh did she break us. There were days where she likely had double her allotted food amount. Zoinks!

As Ashley picked her up today I confessed our sin and she assured us it was hardly a big deal, she does it "all the time". I breathed a sigh of relief that any additional pounds that cat is likely to put on will be forgiven or, at the very least, understood. It's an intimidating thing caring for someone's "family member". I wanted what was best for Oreo, but wanted her "content" as well. I can't have her complaining to her mommy, after all, about my lack of hospitality. I'm still trying to get Ashley's 2 year old son to forgive me for forcing him into footie pajamas that he'd grown out of months earlier the last time I played babysitter. That and his being victim to my first diaper change. Poor poor child.

On unexpected praise...

I've remarked before about a gentleman I work with whom I admire greatly. He's my father's age, was a Lt. Colonel in the Army for many years before joining the battlefield of higher education administration, and is sincerely a hero of mine. I also consider him a friend. We are a bit of an odd couple in that sense, but we crack each other up, get along famously and he's one of the best things about going to my job every day. I love hearing about his grandchildren and his days living overseas, in particular. I know working alongside him makes me a better person and professional. He's hard working, a true leader and a wonderful person. He's also great for perspective. During one of many pep talks he's given me he related, "Don't worry. This isn't a bad day. A bad day at my old job meant people died. So, again, this isn't a bad day."

Pep talks. He's given me quite a few of them over the past 8 months or so, ever since my professional world jumped a few notches in madness and I was asked to take on a great deal more responsibility. He ended up giving me another today, as always unsolicited but needed just the same. I've been asked to do one of those pesky things that I simply don't believe in or agree with, but must do nevertheless. He's one of the people asking me to take this action with which I disagree. The conversation was good natured, but did, in fact, make my jaw drop at one very specific point.

"You're strong-willed," he said, "That's one of the things I really admire about you."

I have a big "impostor syndrome" illness. The impostor syndrome is the condition many professionals have where they think they don't deserve the success they've achieved and, at any moment, will be exposed for the frauds they really are. Honestly. There's at least one book about it.

So to hear someone my father's age, someone who has seen military combat and led divisions of soldiers and worked with professionals far better than myself say, "That's one of the things I admire about you", gave me a lot of pause. I know I'm well liked and respected by him, and quite honestly that would be enough for me. But to hear such a man speak of admiration for me, well, I'm walking a little taller, despite the madness around me.

He's been trained to sniff out spies and kill men with his pinkie finger. Maybe I'm not that big of an impostor after all.

On not knowing what to think...

I'm 29 today. This is the first birthday I've awoken and not had even the slightest sense of "yay!". And it's not for the lack of effort of others. Already I've been greeted by all sorts of e-mails and notes on MySpace and Facebook, from friends old and new and even some co-workers. I've got a great day planned with my fabulous boyfriend and and he's been lovely with his reminders of "birthday!", just as I did for him a few days ago. Of course, he was turning 26. I'm also meeting up with more friends later tonight. It truly will be a great day.

But it's also the last year of my 20s and, well, I can't quite forget it. I went to dinner with a friend last night who'll turn 38 this year (she looks younger than me, FYI) and I wasn't shocked when she wasn't mustering up a ton of sympathy. Still, I pleaded, "don't you remember how rough this one felt at the time?"

The thing is, I honestly believe my best years are ahead of me. That has been the pattern so far, anyway, and while it's taken me longer than others, I'm really starting to completely love myself and dig what I'm able to accomplish and the few but truly quality friends I have in my life. STILL. I feel like I'm losing "value". And that's what's BS. It's different for women. My generation was reared to be everything to everyone. Smart AND beautiful, stylish AND accomplished, serious AND fun-loving, professional AND wife/mother... so on and so forth. And let's be clear on one thing, 30 isn't old, but I haven't done 30 yet, and it scares the shit out of me, even though two of my dearest friends are early to mid-30s and are more beautiful than they've ever been and more accomplished and fabulous. I don't know why I feel potentially exempt from that.

Plus, with 30 carries so many expectations... marriage, children, family, and the general "having your shit together" thing. And who knows if I'll get to any of that. I'm not convinced. That's OK, it really is, but I'm anticipating it to feel heavy just the same. Perhaps the problem is I've always acted older than my age... the curse of the only child who spent more time with her parents and adults than anyone else. I think I'm worried that I missed out on something though, in all honesty, I have no interest in making this next year a mulligan for time lost.

Oh well. I'm off to have a truly great day. And a truly great year. I just needed to get this off of my chest. And, I know when I re-read this blog again twenty years from now, I'll laugh out loud at it's foolishness. Hooray for that.

On what else but...pie

As a public service I'd like to share the following article from Epicurious.com.

http://www.epicurious.com/restaurants/best_eats/pie?mbid=rss_epilf

It highlight's America's best places for.. pie.

Moody's Diner was a staple of my childhood so I'm simply overjoyed that it has been acknowledged on a national level. I have indulged in their strawberry rhubarb and blueberry more than I really care to admit. It's also a throwback to the days of the real diner, and a gathering place for both the local and state communities. Way to go, Moody's!

On stubbornness...

Only children and the Irish are known for their stubbornness. As a member of both groups, I knew I'd never be able to escape that fate. But, having convinced myself that I'm a bit of a pushover, I thought I'd somehow magically defied it. You can't be a pushover AND be stubborn, can you?

I realized today that these characteristics are, in fact, mutually exclusive. Just because I'm non-confrontational (and thus, can be a pushover to achieve some level of harmony) doesn't mean that I can't be unwavering and, well, unreasonable.

There is a woman I work with who makes me want to rip my skin off of my body. She is one of two people in my entire life who, the minute she enters the room, I fight the desire to throw punches. Her very presence changes my temperament from friendly and easygoing to cranky and defensive. There are a number of reasons for this, some justified, others not, but it really does take every ounce of energy that I have to maintain civility when she's around.

The worst part? I'm pretty sure she knows it. OK, that's the second worst part. The very worst part? She's trying REALLY hard to make right with me, and I can't find the strength of character to budge.

She just called me over to her office as I walked down the hall. Sometimes I even go a different route to avoid her completely, but she heard my voice so there was no hope this time. Once we worked through some business, she asked what shoe size I wore. "8 1/2" I answered. "Aw, shoot, sure you can't squeeze into an 8?" "No chance," I replied. "Shucks," she said, "I'm cleaning out my closet and had a couple of pairs of shoes I thought you might like. But, wait. What size do you wear for clothes.. are you.. oh.. about a 6?"

Let's get something clear. I'm a fairly healthy girl with an athletic build. But one thing I'm not is a size 6 and that is apparent to pretty much everyone. "That's kind of you, but, no far from it. I wear a (like I'm going to put it in writing!)" "Really? Hmm.. Well, I have this size 8 dress that would look adorable on you but I thought it might be too big. Perhaps not. I'll bring it in for you to try on." "That's kind of you. Thanks for thinking of me," I replied, in as measured a tone as I could muster.

The woman is complimenting my figure and offering me free clothes and I still can't find the strength to just take a deep breath and see her with new eyes. I need some coping techniques, pronto..

Bourne to be the end..

I'm a major movie buff. As such, I always mean to write movie reviews but somehow neglect them. I guess I'm convinced I miss something major that should be conveyed, or that I'm the only one who still feels Rosie O'Donnell's monologue in Beautiful Girls is one of the greatest moments in movie history. Oh, how the mighty are fallen. I meant her, not me.

I caught The Bourne Ultimatum yesterday. I had to see it soon before it couldn't possibly live up to the hype and I hated it by default. Sure, the media buzz has been strong, but the buzz in my ear from friends and co-workers even stronger. "You're going to love it!" "You HAVE to see it." I'm happy to report Bourne didn't disappoint, so if you haven't seen it yet, stop reading this review so I don't ruin it for you by hyping it up even more and you're simply left with, "Uh, what's the big deal?" Just go. Yes, just wear that. You look fine.

Bourne is a great action movie in its purest form. It doesn't try to be too smart or too clever, though it's smart enough, the dialogue is fast but not cute, and the story itself moves quickly, and through a wide variety of gorgeous European scenery. It also incorporates beautifully choreographed fight scenes, some of the best including minimal gun violence, and the car chase scenes are signature Bourne and lend just enough suspension of disbelief. If you're like me, you had a hard time with the 18-wheeler vs. fighter jet sequence in Live Free or Die Hard. This was a nice departure. The quality of the film is lifted a notch higher, even, with the consistency of color in the shots. The "grey" that defines the Bourne films keeps with its voice and tone. I like that the only time color really comes into the films is when Marie, Bourne's departed girlfriend, played by the lovely Franka Potente, is involved. And if you have not seen Run Lola Run, you are missing out on what is among the best female performances in the action genre ever courtesy of Potente.

The cast is fantastic. Though always impressive, the star power in Ultimatum is superlative to the other Bournes, and the casting carries meaning. Everyone in it was cast well and with purpose. My guess is it takes the freedom of a successful model like Bourne to achieve that; to do something with such a strong cast beyond enjoy the power of the presence of their name on the trailer. For example, I haven't seen David Strathairn since Good Night, and Good Luck and I appreciated his reintroduction in a big budget but nevertheless meaningful effort. Joan Allen shines, as usual, and I didn't want to throw my Icee at a "harmless and I guess she had to be there" Julia Stiles, another success. I'm continually impressed by the range of Albert Finney, in this role "Dr. Pure Evil", and I keep meaning to reconnect with some of his earlier work. And Scott Glenn is back! He looks like hell but it was nice to be reminded of just how much I enjoy him as an actor. He plays prick better than anyone I can think of. Just watch The Right Stuff if you don't know what I mean. Even when he's a good guy, he's a prick.

Of course, I've yet to mention Damon, who has mastered this role with no trace of smugness that could easily creep into the character. His character development remains strong, despite minimal dialogue, and he does not stray from his mission. I like that he's not distracted from his determination to learn how he came to be Bourne. I also appreciate that there's been no effort to incorporate another love interest. I always liked the handling of the love story in the first and (you'll miss it if you blink) second films, and it means a great deal as a female that the creators understand you can still pull us in without a condescending romance. I will confess to getting nervous during a couple scenes where a history or a future between Damon and Stiles seemed possible, and I was grateful they never saw it through. Though, it would appear, there's still room for it in the future. Finally, the strength of the Bourne character comes through upon learning that, whoops, maybe he wasn't such a "victim" after all. Nevertheless, you're still on his side.
Like every character, no one is all good, and no one is all bad. You can justify it all. Yet another reason to enjoy the subtle complexity the Bourne series offers. Everyone is human. So what if they're also a killing machine.

The Bourne Ultimatum defies the curse of the sequel/trilogy and actually seems to improve with every film. Which is why it needs to stop. Right now. It could easily pick up again, but it would have to alter directions completely and I just don't think it's appropriate. Not having read any of the Bourne novels, I'm uncomfortable that the character has been tackled by multiple authors (though not the adapted novels) and I can only see it taking on a 24/Keifer Sutherland angle in which I am not at all confident. I envision some sort of Bourne interpretation of a "kinder, gentler" assassination program. Egad. Please don't.

On the torture on the radio...

It's been a rough year for a few of my married friends. Divorce, potential separation and a lack of communication have reared their ugly heads, making it more and more of a challenge for me to remain optimistic at every wedding I attend. And, oddly enough, with each passing trouble, I feel I have less and less to offer in terms of advice or encouragement.

I spent the afternoon with a friend who is experiencing some of these troubles. We talked for hours with seemingly no true answers or resolutions, but left simply with the hope that she and her spouse could find the strength to change, to grow up, to listen, to forgive. I get the sense I have more faith in that possibility than she does.

As I got in the car and drove home, my fingers displayed some major ADD. They were on auto pilot as they shuffled through my pre-programmed radio stations. There wasn't a single song I could commit to. Everything just hurt my heart. Love ballads, Coldplay and all bands that sound like them (FIE!), even the peppier stuff just left me frustrated. I was either going to cry or beat my head against the wheel in frustration. I'll confess I did one of the two (and to give you a hint I have no mark on my forehead). I couldn't stand anything I heard, but couldn't take the silence either.

It got me thinking about listening. Do I ever really listen to music unless there's something wrong? Sure, it's on, and I experience it, but in a much more peripheral manner. I couldn't take it. And it just made me wonder what she was listening to as she drove home and was she still ok. I hope she is. I hope she's feeling as strong, caring and beautiful as the woman she is.

On proof that, every once in a while, the US isn't the biggest source of global absurdity...

Australia's version of the USPS has announced they are rolling out a postage stamp featuring Brad Pitt & Angelina Jolie. Insert joke about licking your Brangelina half of choice here.

I don't know why, but it just feels classier to wait until celebrities die, like we do here in the US, process who was really relevant after all, and THEN issue a postage stamp. Think Elvis Presley, Judy Garland..

Then again, the USPS had to reissue the Star Wars postage stamps. Maybe we reign supreme on the global chump scale after all.

On humble submissions..

I offer you Conan O'Brien and John Krasinski discussing George Clooney. Otherwise known as Celtic Not's Perfect Storm/Holy Trinity of Male Awesomeness... Enjoy..

On things "The Man" should be ashamed of...

Here's my theory on how this happened. A middle aged ad executive laments his unluckiness in love. "WWED? What Would Elvis Do," he thinks to himself. Wait... WW- E.D?!?!

On important reminders...

Today I was reminded that there are certain aspects of my job at which I am particularly good. Or, at the very least, I can have days where I'm really "on". It's funny, though, how I can struggle with my co-workers in terms of communication and relationships, but how I can communicate to a rather large group of anonymous strangers in a meaningful, entertaining and effective way. How I can draw them in with that and make them seek me out for another interaction. Makes me wonder. I think I'm a pretty effective communicator with those close to me, so there's just this middle, gray area with those in between that seems to be a weakness of mine. Or maybe I'm too hard on myself. Or maybe I just don't know how to walk that line of people who have that intimacy of not being a stranger, but the distance of not being a friend. I'm ok working alongside that relationship, but leading people with whom I have that relationship seems to cause stress.

Seems to me I should either find a way to add more distance or attempt more closeness with these people. Given the reality of the situation, I guess distance would be best. It's just letting go of that desire to be liked and my craving for real friendships and relationships that always manages to get in the way.

On bad things that have yet to happen to me...

There are some new people who've started at my office in the past week, both of whom have relocated from out of state. Both are engaged.

One woman's fiance was driving down from Philly today with a truck load of belongings from their old apartment. It was his first trip down and he was meeting her on campus to pick her up before bringing the load to their new abode.

"Where are you," she said into her cell phone, with a bit of an edge. He was very late. She looked panicked by his response.

"Any idea where Shriver Laboratory is," she asked me.

I looked puzzled. "Um, not at all." Ours is not a school known to have entire buildings devoted to laboratories.

If you've never seen a petite woman get SERIOUSLY pissed off, I don't recommend it. It's one of the more terrifying things I've ever witnessed. Their anger doubles their size to make up for what God didn't give them. Remember that scene from The Mask when Jim Carrey's eyes popped out? Her eyes did nearly the same thing.

Her beloved fiance, the one who is relocating for her new job and who has been by her side as she's gone through her job search showed up at the wrong university. Nevermind she'd left driving directions for him to the RIGHT university. He ignored those directions and did his own thing, showing up at a campus where she is not, nor ever has been, employed or even interviewed.

Men have really got to learn to listen better. Particularly if their lady is really short.

On reasons to always watch reruns of The Office...

Other than the obvious (Jim), I just noticed, during this replay of the bat episode of The Office, that Angela stops, drops and rolls when she sees the flying rodent.

Amidst all of the chaos of the different character reactions, I didn't notice this the first time around. Genius.

On the "Oh no!" uttered aloud while alone...

While driving home from work today it happened, for the first time, but for what I am certain is, sadly, far from the last.

I got a "spam" text message.

And here we go. CURSES!

On nonawkward awkwardness...

So what's the deal with meetings?

I really like the people on my staff. Well, most of them. Truly, I do. I have really good relationships with my one team in particular, the one that has always been mine as opposed to the ones for whom I am currently "PsuedoBoss" (think RoboCop without any weapons or armor... aka the US Military). We laugh a lot, we're nice to each other and, for the most part, we really do get along.

So what is it about putting them all together (they also like each other) in a room, around a table, with me at a head chair that suddenly makes things SO bloody awkward?

I try to keep things as light as possible with this crew. But, suddenly, my jokes aren't as funny, my sarcasm isn't returned, nor are my smiles or enthusiasm. Ok, maybe they are a little bit, but only in subtle undertones. It's as if they're afraid of each other's reactions. Sometimes I wonder if they don't want to be seen by others as kissing up.

The thing is, I really AM that funny and charming. Doesn't that make it ok to get caught? I just don't see why meetings have to be painful. When I was in that professional position, and before I had 7 back to back meetings to run to in a day (not kidding - that's coming up on Monday), I loved meetings. Then again, maybe that's why I keep getting promoted too fast.

It sucks to be such a dork sometimes.

On a change of perspective...

I did something today I've been wanting to do for 19 months and 10 days.

I rearranged my office.

I have loathed my office set up since day one. I have an awkward shaped office, was given a desk and a partial desk to form an L shape, and was as far away from the window in my office as was humanly possible. I was also placed in such a way that even if my door was wide open, no one could really see if I was in there. So, even if a colleague had a meeting with me, they still had to peer around the door as if they were interrupting. Or, even worse, they'd peek through the crack in the door to see if I was there. That was annoying as sin.

So, today, I decided to take charge. Actually, it was a lot like being in college again. We have a big event tomorrow at which I'm speaking, and I was already well beyond my self-imposed deadline to have my remarks done. I had a morning full of a meetings but an afternoon to devote to my speech. Since I finally spoke up about wanting the rearrangement this morning, and I was assured it could happen that day, I got to spend about two hours making my space at least workable. This, of course, allowed me to procrastinate finishing my remarks even longer. When I was in college, I typically had to clean my room before starting a paper or studying for exam. Pretty funny. And, in case you're curious, I did finish them tonight. I actually think the refresher to my office made me more productive.

I'm totally digging my new space. First of all, I'm now as far away from where the roaches seem to emerge as I can possibly be. Plus, I'm right in front of my window. Granted, the way it's all set up my back is to the window, but I really don't care. I also face the door. The look of shock on faces who passed by and glanced in was awesome. Without fail, people smiled. "Hey! This is great!" I automatically sensed that the new space was more welcoming, more inviting and friendlier. Perhaps I'll now be perceived as a little less evil because of it. I also heard some feng shui nonsense about the space as more "balanced" now, which I politely nodded at and widened my eyes to imply interest, but mocked in my mind the entire time. Hee hee.. that was fun.

So the new office arrangement was inspired to complement my new work attitude. Since my space has a bit more warmth to it, perhaps that can assist in my perspective. I'm just trying to be a little more Bob Marley in my approach to work. Less anger, more marijuana. Ok, no, not really. I simply don't want to be so stirred up all the time. I want to be more chill. Let more roll off of my back. By making my space happier, I hope I've taken another step closer to achieving that.