Do Nothing for Two Minutes

As a follow-up to my last blog, maybe we should all try this website, Do Nothing for Two Minutes.

I failed, but that's no surprise.

Pause

I'm stealing borrowing the name of today's post from a far-away friend, whom I've only seen once in the past, oh, five years?, and keep up with mostly through comments on Facebook statuses. Somehow in all of that, I still feel a connection in our lives. See, technology can't be all bad.

She recently started a blog, aptly named Pause, as a New Year's resolution to do just that in her life.

I'm envious of that. Pause is something I most certainly have not been doing since January 1.

Just look at the last post date of this blog. Over a week. I haven't taken pause to organize my thoughts, update my friends, enjoy some moments to myself, or even be happy in my new job.

Instead, I have been frantic. I have been overloaded. I have been weighed down by new things. I have felt the burden of an unrealistic "to do" list that will never be fully accomplished. I have felt guilty about this. I have let myself believe that every single day I am letting others down by not doing enough or being enough or accomplishing enough. 

Even the dog. Those big brown eyes, so used to having my in the house all day every day... I couldn't take it any more an hired a dog walker. (I love how we I think I can alleviate guilt by throwing money at it.)

It was a rough two weeks settling into the new job. I wasn't mentally prepared to be going into an office every day (I kept thinking about the mess at home, or the things to take to the dry cleaners, or the projects half started). I also walked into a perfect storm of sorts where the other account managers happened to be on travel, and lots of crazy stuff happened with the clients, and there I was, dealing with it best I could on my own. Everything was flying around me, and I just couldn't feel like I was settled and under control.

This week has been significantly better, and yesterday -- last night in particular -- I tried to take my friend's inspiration and pause. (If you count sitting on the couch with a glass of wine and Modern Family pause, which I totally do.)

I finally got into an office space that I can start making my own, my peers are back, everything got done last week and I wasn't fired for any of it. The dog is getting her exercise, I'm getting my mind back to preparing the house (dinners, cleaning, shopping, errands) for being done on weekends, and, best of all, the sun is staying out just a little bit longer every day.

I'm embarrassed (not the right word... frustrated? disappointed in myself?) at how much I let the franticness of the past two weeks get to me -- really, really get to me, deep inside. But maybe with the reminder of a new blog on my reader, I can remember to pause, too.

The Learning Curve

The learning curve is a funny thing, isn't it?

I don't intend to be so unimaginative as to quote a dictionary definition, but that's mainly because it's really, really complicated (who knew?), and trying to figure out the original and evolving meanings of the phrase "learning curve" in order to appropriately follow through with this metaphor as it formed in my mind would probably take me until lunch.

Instead, I'll just tell you what I mean.

I'm not starting this job in an entry-level position. Far from it. I'm being hired for my base of knowledge, skill, and experiences. Things I already know and have already done.

And, sure, I know there's going to be a lot to learn with any new job, like the clients and budgets.

But there is so much more to learn, and that part is exhausting. Even if you throw in other "gimmies" like how to work the copy machine and where they keep the FedEx materials (still don't know that answer, by the way) or whether you hit "9" before you dial a number to get an outside line.

People expect you to ask those questions. You don't feel embarrassed to ask them, and they feel helpful for providing the guidance.

So what about who to "Cc" on an e-mail? How do you ask that? And did you know that the answer changes depending on whom you ask? Are people freakishly insistent on naming files a certain way, and that if you put a date in the title along with "v2" that throws off the way they scan for what they're looking for? Are there words the boss likes and (really, really) doesn't like in copy? If you've been asked to do something, but a bunch of other people collaborate, who, exactly, is the one that sends the (don't you dare use the word "final") version to the client?

Those are all more difficult to decipher.

I had a great first week last week here, and felt like I learned a ton. But the entire above examples of hard-to-learn things happened... yesterday. In, like, an hour. Plus a few more.

I'm not upset or even embarrassed or think anyone (other than me) left the day yesterday thinking, "That Maureen really screwed up today..." But I did get home with my head exploding full of newly learned nuances of the office, and dread of what additional ones I still don't know -- until I make more mistakes.

I'm the new girl, which I haven't been for over eight years. And I was hired to step in and pick up all the clients and tasks and responsibilities of someone who is leaving after eight years at this firm.

So excuse any incorrect usage in me saying that I feel like my learning curve just got awfully steep.

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Bonus, if you didn't see this on Twitter of FB, an incredible "mock case study" of how a PR firm could handle planning a little girl's birthday party. It's totally worth the watch. (thanks, Joe)

Getting Noticed

When I went to New York City with Mike in December, we met with my brother Frank for lunch. He asked how my business was going, and I told him that, honestly, I needed to come up with a better business plan than, "shit falls in my lap," because so far, that's been working out pretty well for me.

And I was optimistic about 2011. I had one (albeit small) client lined up for work during the first quarter, with that work likely continuing throughout the year. Several projects bidded out that were pretty promising. I was going to give it until the end of March until I really made any decisions, and see how much revenue I could pull in during that time.

So when a client that I did work for in October called with an immediate need for someone to help out while one of their VPs transitioned to another job, I was there.

When I went in Tuesday morning, I didn't expect a full-time job offer a mere two-hours into the first day I was "helping out."

But I got one.

And I accepted it.

I'm floored. When I picked back up writing this blog, after being laid off from a place I had given my heart and soul to, I didn't know what was going to happen. And quite frankly, I didn't know what I wanted to happen.


Creating the business was an incredibly rewarding experience for me. I needed it. I needed to do something after the layoff. Needed to prove something, mostly to myself. But I was demoralized, and I didn't know any other way to deal with it but to work harder and longer more creatively and with more passion than ever before.

It was like when my first boyfriend at college broke up with me, and instead of sitting in my dorm room lamenting the relationship, I put on black pants way too tight, took some vodka shots with my roommates, and went dancing.

When he heard about it the next day (because in college, you only date within your circle of friends, right?), he approached me and told me that he couldn't believe I "got over" him so fast. He wanted me to be sad, to beg him to take me back, to not be able to see how I could ever have a boyfriend as good as him.

Even if I felt those things at the time, the only way I could deal with it was dress cuter, flirt more, accept invitations, and, without saying it, make so very clear that I could do better, and deserved more.

So even though I'm not sure most people at my old organization even remember my name, I needed to prove I wasn't defined by them.

And wouldn't you know it, while I was working harder, keeping up with contacts, and learning new skills, someone else noticed.

Just like I told Frank, this fell into my lap. But I worked really, really hard to make sure I knew the right people, was in the right place, and did the quality work in order to make that happen.

P.S. It's Goddard Claussen Public Affairs, an issue advocacy and public affairs firm. I'll be working in client relations, juggling multiple clients and making their needs happen. More tomorrow (or Tuesday) on the job specifics, when the formal announcement is made.

P.P.S. I'm happy. I'm really, really happy.

The Cookie Extraveganza

New Year's Day had us up early enough to be the very first customers at the local Starbucks of the New Year. Literally. We stood outside the door and waited for them to unlock it.

Mike, Rob, Kristin, Goldie and I piled into the SUV and began the trek to McKeesport. Because of the weather forecast, the Winter Classic hockey game was moved from it's original 1 p.m. start time to an 8 p.m. start time. That meant my plans for a fancy-smancy dinner were blown to pieces.

Upon our McKeesport arrival, Mike and Robert decided to do some defensive eating before the cookie making. Since there are only fast food restaurants in McKeesport, we ended up at KFC. Where I promptly dared the two of them to try a double-down.

They decided to split just one.

Robert wasn't really amused by this suggestion.

It was so disgusting that this was as much of it that the two of them combined could not eat.

On to happier things. The cookie making was a huge success. I already showed you how prepared for us Heather was, what with aprons and recipes. We got to work as soon as we arrived, and, well, I think these pictures can show you how much fun we had -- and how many cookies we ate -- more than I can.

Making the PB Ritz sandwiches, ready for chocolate dipping.

She's a born cookie-maker!

Dipping the PB Ritz sandwiches. It took serious technique.

Mmmmm. Chocolate, AND wine.

This system was set up for the Raspberry Jam Thumbprints. Heather weighs a small amount of dough, rolls it into a ball, dips it in egg wash, rolls it in coconut, places it on a pan, pushes her thumb into it to make a hole and fills that hole with jam.

After baking.

Heather and coooookies.

Kristin rolling out the sugar cookie dough.

More peanut butter Ritz sandwiches.

Do you know how hard it was not to just devour them all. Oh, wait, I did.

The Raspberry Jam Thumbprint assembly line.

Mike putting the left over melted chocolate to good use.

Peanut butter blossoms with candy centers.

Sugar cookie icing.

We were nearly comatose by this point, and we only made 4 different types of cookies. Heather makes over 12 different types at a time, and does that for 4 straight days during the holidays.

A bit more Crayola than Christmas.

Sugar Coma

I am in a sugar coma.

And while that is a horrible excuse, it is the true one. There must be something to what Rob says about how if you eat (or don't eat) a certain way for a long time, you become physically ill eating it.

As in, yesterday, I ate more flour and sugar than I consume in over a month total.

And yet I ate it. And now I'm in a sugar coma.

I will post a full low-down of the cookie making tomorrow, I promise. Until then, you can see these photos on Facebook. And the post will be significantly enhanced after getting Kristin's pics from the day, also.

Until then, I'm going to stare blankly at the TV until I pass out.

I Wasn't Kidding

Big Deal

This is a Big Deal.

No sooner had I hit "publish" on that last post, and the cookie-maker sends me this picture.

She's ready for us. Game on.

Happy New Year's!

Happy New Year!!!

Packed in the car right now with the Keelings, Mike, and the pooch, headed to Pittsburgh. The Winter Classic is today, and Mike and Robert are going to the game. Kristin and I are along for the ride. We had planned to drive up early New Year's Day, get the boys to the 1 p.m. game, then all go out in the newly renovated Shadyside area and this really cool looking restaurant tonight, all dressed up and decked out.

On a cookie euphoria Christmas night, Kristin and Barb came up with the idea that Kristin and I would go to the cookie-maker's house and get our own, private, Western Pennsylvania cookie-making lesson while the boys were at the game.

Kristin, to put it mildly, is ecstatic about the cookie-making.

Then mother nature went and put a crimp in our plans, and the forecast is 50 degrees and raining in Pittsburgh today, so the game has been moved to an 8 p.m. start time. This really only disappoints me, as it means no fancy dress and dinner.

Otherwise, cookie-making is still on, with Mike and Robert going to McKeesport with us.

I haven't been able to quite explain to Kristin the Big Deal that this is -- the whole, opting to go visiting in McKeesport and flattering the cookie-maker with the highest compliment ever, that we want to learn her cookies. She still thinks we're putting them out, and has been trying to insist on bringing ingredients and gifts and other bribes.

She has no idea.

Others have been invited over to the cookie-maker's house because it is such a Big Deal that we are all arriving. It is such a Big Deal that last night, the cookie-maker sent me this photo, of the party favors she has made for us -- printed up recipes of all the cookies we'll be making.

I fully expect that by the time the boys leave for the game, Kristin and I will be in a sugar-induced coma, ready for bed.