No Regrets

I’ve often heard it said that in life you never regret what you did; you regret those things you didn’t do.  Hmm.  Are you sure? Just one look at my old photo albums and I can see plenty of things I regret.

Photos from grad-school parties show a serious lack of fashion sense, which of course I regret.  I’ll cut myself some slack here since I was poor.  I will say that my sequined high-top tennis shoes (my creation) added some flair to my otherwise bland wardrobe of jeans and tops.  And my hair! I may have actually been close to a mullet.  Let’s just hope I needed a haircut and hadn’t made it to the salon.

Looking back at my career, there was the time I turned down an opportunity to interview with a small start-up. Happy with my job despite the low pay, I didn’t even try to talk to the start-up even though one of my best friends worked there. In my mind, it couldn’t possibly be as interesting or fulfilling as my current job.  I’ll never know how an interview may have turned out or if I would have liked working there.  One thing I do know: I regret not interviewing and potentially getting in on the ground floor, including stock options that later would prove to be so lucrative that I could be writing this from my winter home in Tahiti.

Over the years I’ve seen the error of my thinking. Of not trying something new.  Now I’m much more willing to at least investigate opportunities – both professional and personal – rather than simply declaring my life “fine as-is”.

Hubby and I have applied this line of thinking to our travel, taking advantage of opportunities that we never before dreamed of, not wanting to look back with regret at not going, doing, seeing.  Hard to regret riding a camel by the great pyramids at Giza.   I do regret my screaming while the giant camel stood up with me in the saddle; that was embarrassing.  Who knew that a scream would echo around the pyramids?

When the lay-off hit, my mantra became “no regrets”.   This stroke of bad luck was really good luck in disguise, giving me the opportunity to do whatever I wanted.  If I wanted to try something, I was going to try it, as long as it was legal and didn’t break the bank.  Any fear I had was pushed aside by the bigger concern that I might rush into a new job too fast and find myself once again stuck in the rat race without at least considering a new venture.

So I pressed on, past any naysayers and concerns from well-meaning friends; past my own self-doubt.  I wrote my thoughts and dreams and strategies on a large grease board with “NO REGRETS” emblazoned at the top.  And guess what?  I’ve actually been able to check a few things off the list.

Living a “regret-less” life is not easy and I’m not going to pretend that I do it well.  Many times Hubby has to give me a pep-talk before I worry myself out of something without giving it a try.  I find that it takes more courage and determination to try something new vs. staying with something familiar.  Worries flood in as I venture out of my comfort zone to try new things. “What if” questions are always top of mind.

I’m not sure where some of my “regret-less” ventures are going to take me.  But one thing’s for sure: I’ll look back someday with a smile, knowing at least I tried.

© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved

Rear-View Strategy

I’m an expert when it comes to seeing the benefit of life’s happenings.  Bold statement, I know.  But I really am an expert at this and can definitely answer the question “why” as it relates to life events.   As long as they’ve already happened, that is.

In the midst of things, I often wonder “why” things are the way they are.  Especially during the not-so-good times.  I think, “I’m a nice person, what good could possibly come of this?”

Or more simply stated, “What the #@!*”?

Some years ago, Hubby announced that one of the many items on his bucket list was a trip to the Indianapolis 500.  Ever the supportive wife, I told him he’d better find someone else to go with him as I certainly was not going to waste time on such a dumb sport, cars perpetually driving to the left for hours.  And by no stretch of the imagination would I ever agree to spend a weekend in the middle of a race track in an RV, as I’d seen people do at the races on TV. 

The very next week I earned a promotion to manage my company’s national sponsorships and promotions.  I’m sure the look on my face said it all when my new boss gave me a folder and said, “We’re just negotiating a motorsports agreement with Indianapolis; see what you can do with it”.  Aughh!  I clearly remember the grin on Hubby’s face when he heard the news and realized that he would get to accompany me to the Indy 500 to see cars drive in a perpetual left-turn.

Determined to do my best at this new opportunity, I dug in and learned everything I could about the sport and why it could benefit our company.  Turns out it’s not so dumb after all.

Ever watch an auto race?  Athletes the size of jockeys driving multi-million dollar computers on wheels, singularly focused on that perpetual left-turn for hours and miles on end.  They’d better be focused. At speeds of over 200 mph, even they can see the emergency crews on the edge of the track. 

And talk about strategy – they’ve got a plan for everything.  When to change tires, when to pass another car, when to re-fuel.  Races are won by hundredths of a second so every decision must be well thought out.  

It wasn’t too long into my new job that I officially became a “gear-head”, knowing more about the sport and the drivers than most men.  Luckily for me I never had to stay in an RV.

Fast-forward several years. A recruiter called, looking for someone with very specific career experience:  retail, strategy, marketing, and - believe it or not – motor sports.  Someone with Indy experience.  Wow.  What an odd combination, yet it was me all the way.   I got the job - and I had a light-bulb moment as I remembered my “what the #@!*” thought when I was handed the Indy folder.

I would love to say that all of this happened because of strategic career moves on my part.  I would love to show you a planning document that I developed early in my career, outlining the skills I should acquire on my road to success.  But I can’t.  Nope, as strategic as I am in my work, even I wasn’t prepared for every twist and turn. 

Yet every experience, good and not-so-good, seems to enhance my future.  Even the lay-offs in our house hold have been beneficial. Hubby and I discovered hidden skills that have led to new opportunities. We realized that although we loved our jobs, we can shift gears, adapt and move on to something new.

Out of the motor sports chapter of my life came more than a job opportunity.  I also gained a great group of friends and colleagues that I’m still in regular contact with, including drivers and others in the race industry.  Hubby bonded with several of the other husbands that attended the races while we women worked (isn’t that how it always goes?).  Once at home, we became a dinner group called “The Trailing Spouses”, named lovingly after our Hubbies who trailed after us at such events.

 Yep, I’m an expert at rear-view strategy.  Wish I could identify it a bit sooner, although now I try to simply accept what’s happening and prepare myself for future benefits.  

In the meantime, I’ll keep driving to the left.

© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved

Happy Birthday to My Blog

A year ago today, Hubby and I were sitting in the home office, trapped in the house due to an ice-storm.  Both of us were at our computers. He was working; I was surfing the net for job opportunities and playing the occasional game of solitaire.  As I tried to stay warm, it dawned on me that exactly one year earlier I had been laid off. 

I started thinking about my year and remembered that only a few months earlier I had begun to write about my journey through unemployment. The intention was that I would start a blog.  But I let my personal doubts and fears creep in, thinking “why would anyone want to read this?” and “I’ll be embarrassed to let anyone read my writing”.     

I guess the ice storm froze all my fears, and as we shivered in the home office I plugged in the flash drive loaded with my writing.  Overcome by a moment of bravery, I wrote my first blog post and alerted the world through Facebook. 

Immediately I regretted my decision, certain that friends across the country were laughing at my writing.  Fear was back. I pulled a blanket over my head so no one could see me cry.

Within seconds I had my first response.  Hubby had to read it to me; I was too nervous.  “It’s good!” he said.  “They like your post”.  

A tiny bit of courage started pushing my fear aside.  A few days later I wrote another post and broadened my audience.  More good response and lots of encouragement from friends to keep writing. Tales of the Terminated™ was born!

It’s been a year of writing and I’ve loved every minute of it.  My heart-felt thanks to everyone for your encouragement and support.  My writing has been fun as well as therapeutic.  It brought the opportunity to write a monthly column for the paper.  And most surprising of all, it has helped me find work. 

Funny to think that my personal tales from the lay-off have provided a silver lining to an otherwise dark cloud.   

Tales of the Terminated™ is far from done. I’ve got so many personal tales as a result of the lay-off.  And I’m no longer afraid to share my thoughts and observations with the rest of the world.

Happy 1^st Birthday, Tales of the Terminated™.  I’m so proud of you.

© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved

Competitive Careering

To say I’m competitive is an understatement.  Every time I complete something at work or in my personal life, I immediately begin to evaluate what I would do better next time. Just ask Hubby.  We’ve been married fifteen years and I’m still evaluating our wedding and reception, looking at things I would do differently if I had a chance to do it over. Not that I’m looking for that chance, but the perfectionist/competitor in me just doesn’t stop.

I’d tweak my dress a bit, add a trumpet to the music, wear different shoes and most importantly, I’d eat something at the reception.  I’m sure the food was great; we just didn’t get any of it.

With everything I do, it’s like I’m in a race to be the best.  Sometimes it’s against me, if there’s no one else to compete with.

Not sure where I got this competitive streak; it’s not like I played competitive sports or anything.  It probably started in elementary school with competitive recess. Who can jump rope longest? Climb the monkey bars faster?

Whether it’s getting the best grades, being in the best club, having the best outfit, succeeding at work – I always want to be the best. Even having the best room in a hotel is a big deal.  Yep, it can be really hard to live with me.  Hubby is not saying a word about this last statement.  Smart man.

So you can imagine how I felt upon receiving an email from that ever-popular networking site Linked In, informing me that a former colleague had been promoted to President of a global company.  How fabulous! Of course I immediately sent a note offering my heartfelt congratulations.

While I do wish him well and I’m sure he’s very deserving, there’s a part of me that’s a tiny bit envious.  OK, a lot envious. Completely and utterly envious, jealous and every other similar word you can think of.

Thoughts of “why him?” run through my head.  I’m just as smart, why isn’t this me?  What’s wrong with me and my career? Waa, waa, waa, I cry at this pity-party. Instead of feeling great for him – after all this is his news – I feel caught in a competitive trap, that somehow my career is not as good, that I’m not living up to my potential and that fate has indeed struck me a raw deal. 

The excuses run through my mind.  “I’m not able to move half-way around the world for work”, “Those jobs probably require incredible sacrifice”, and my favorite excuse, “He must have naked pictures of the executives”. 

Truth be told, there are probably numerous reasons why he’s excelling. He’s smart, he has indeed made personal sacrifices and he’s worked his butt off. 

It’s hard not to compare ourselves to others.  The things we strive for at work - title, money, prestige, accomplishment – add up to one thing: confidence.  I know, I know, we shouldn’t place all of our worth on our career.  Perhaps if I had children I could channel some of this competitive energy towards my kids so they could excel at recess. 

I know I’m not alone in feeling less-than-successful when hearing news of someone else’s career advancement.  Such feelings become amplified if we’re stuck in a job we don’t like or if we’ve been laid-off.  Good news from others can be a bitter pill to swallow.

Here’s a radical idea: let’s just be happy with our own accomplishments, rather than tethering our feelings of success to a comparative analysis of someone else! 

Did I just hear crickets?  I can tell by your silence you think I’ve lost my mind.

Actually I agree with you.  The idea of being happy with ourselves and our career without comparing ourselves to others is powerful, although incredibly difficult to achieve. I find myself at odds with this concept all the time.   

 Dad always used to tell me “just do your best and that’s good enough”.  I wish it were that simple.

© Tami Cannizzaro 2012  All Rights Reserved

Calling In Sick

It had to happen sooner or later.  It makes me so frustrated.  I just hate it.

I should have recognized the symptoms over the weekend.  Something just didn’t feel right, like I’d worked out too hard at the gym.  Except that I hadn’t been to the gym in the past few days.

Then it hit with a vengeance.  The tickle in the throat, the sudden chills.  By dinner time it was a full-on attack, with my throat burning and my entire body aching.

What’s up?  All through the holidays I tried to eat right, exercise and get enough sleep.  Especially with the added stress of job hunting.

I’m pretty sure it was the last holiday party that got me.  Lots of folks in close quarters.  Especially the “close talker” – you know, the kind that invades your personal space.  This one cornered me with nowhere to run.  I tried to back away, but there was no room.  Trapped! So close that I could feel his breath as he spoke.  Ick.   I would have offered him a Tic-Tac if I’d had one.  Or maybe I should have sprayed a disinfectant to kill any potential germs.

And now I’m sick.  Mr. In-Your-Face is just fine I’m sure, and probably close-talking someone at his office right this second. 

I allowed myself to sleep a bit late this morning.  When I finally had the strength to get out of bed, I grabbed the phone to call in sick.  Funny thing, how do you call in sick when you’re laid off?

It seems cruel to be reminded of the lack of work when you’re sick.  Isn’t there a hotline like 1-800-IAM SICK, or something? Anyone I could call to let someone know?  There’s got to be someone who could listen to my hoarse voice and cough, someone to justify the sick day.  Hubby doesn’t want to get near me for fear he’ll catch the dreaded crud that I’ve got.  I don’t blame him.

The dog tries to console me as I drag myself to the couch. She brings me a squeaky toy, hoping that a quick game of toss will make me feel better.  I accept the slobbery toy, figuring her germs might somehow be a cure for the crud.  Unfortunately, the crud stays and I have a hand full of slobber. Her attention is nice, but she doesn’t understand why I’m upset.  No one to call, no one at work wondering if I’m really sick or wondering if I’m able to get some work done as I lay on the couch. 

Sigh.  Sick with the crud and no one cares.  Not entirely true; Hubby cares and so does the dog, but I’m talking about the stressful kind of caring that comes with worrying about work while you’re sick.  Humph. I can’t even enjoy the sick day since there’s nothing to worry about. 

Do you suppose the good people at Career Builder or Monster want to know if I’m sick?  They’re probably wondering why I haven’t been online to look for new opportunities. 

Even Facebook isn’t interesting today.  Those who are working don’t want to hear about my sore throat or runny nose or that I’m still in my p.j.’s.  They would make all sorts of comments about how nice it must be not having to worry about work.  If only they knew.

Whine, whine, whine.  I guess that’s what I’ll do today.  Just in case you were wondering, I did call someone.  Our local pizza delivery guy.  At least he knows I’m sick and he offered to bring me a pizza for only $10.99. 

Pizza and whine.  It’s a good day to be sick.

© Tami Cannizzaro 2012 All Rights Reserved

Forced Family Fun

Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukah!  Happy Kwanza!  Best wishes to you and yours as you celebrate the holiday season.

We’re on a plane.  Not right this second, but we will be shortly.  A quick day trip to spend time with my family.  All of us, together under one roof.  Lots of fun; tons of food.  Yes, it’s a long day.  I think of it as a time-honored tradition, one that we all agree to even if it is just once a year.

My friend refers to holidays as Forced Family Fun. 

At first I thought this was a bit sad.  Doesn’t everyone want to travel great distances or host large groups, all in the name of family tradition?  How could you miss Auntie’s famous yellow Jell-O salad with potato chips, the one that no one eats but tradition says we’re required to have? How about the high-decibel shrieking of dozens of kids running through the house?  What about peace, love and harmony? Earplugs, anyone?

Who am I kidding?  As much as I love my family – and I really do; they are the best – sometimes it just seems like too much.  Stressed out from work, overwhelmed with the millions of things going on in our lives, with no time to relax and enjoy the season - for Hubby and me, family time is the last thing on our list.  Top of the list is sleep, followed closely by a couch potato contest to see who can remain on the couch the longest. We’d just like a day without obligations to enjoy the peace and quiet.

 Yet every holiday, families around the world spend time and money simply to be together. 

We load up the car, drive long distances, sleep on the floor or the couch or wherever, share a bathroom full of toddler toys, step all over each other in a house that’s too small even for the family that lives there – and for what? A turkey dinner?

No. We do it for family.  Tradition. A sense of belonging.  And most importantly, for us.

It’s not always easy to travel to these get-togethers, nor is it easy to be the host.  And when people start getting cranky I try to remember that there will be a day when the older relatives are gone and we’ll be left to fend for ourselves.  We’ll long for the day when we actually were required to be somewhere for the holiday, and we’ll actually miss the shrieking kids as we try to re-create Auntie’s Jell-O salad.

Maybe the holidays are Forced Family Fun.  You know what?  Bring it on.  I’m ready.

© Tami Cannizzaro 2011 All Rights Reserved

Time is a Funny Thing

Time is a funny thing.  Seems like it either moves too slowly or too fast; never at the right speed. 

When I was a kid, time seemed to move at a snail’s pace during the school year.  Especially around Christmas.  As soon as Thanksgiving was over, mom and dad would start decorating and shopping.  Sis and I started counting the weeks, days and minutes until Christmas.  It was both exciting and agonizing.  Once the brightly wrapped presents came out, we could hardly contain ourselves, pleading with mom to let us open just one present early.

After the holidays, time seemed to come to a screeching halt. All I could see were the endless months of school ahead.  It was hideous.  Despite that I was a good student and basically enjoyed school, it still seemed never-ending.

When the final bell rang on classes I’d run home, thinking about the long, glorious summer months that lay ahead.  Sleeping late, swimming, bike riding, skating and watching cartoons with no responsibilities. It was awesome!  Yet with the blink of an eye, it would be time for school again.

The older I got, the faster time moved.  At college, school became a year-round task, measured by semesters and short breaks.  Summers were fun but definitely not care-free since I attended summer school each year.  A normal class load on steroids is not, by definition, fun.  Gone were the illusions that Christmas was light years away. 

When the lay-off hit, the first thing I thought of – aside from looking for work – is that I would finally get some time.  Time to do the things I’d been putting off, clean the closets, hit the gym, connect with old friends, finish at least a dozen projects that were in various stages of completion and of course, relax.  Others told me to be careful, that time moved slowly without work and that I’d get bored.  Something must be wrong with me because I’ve never been bored. During the first few months I was the busiest non-working person ever. Hubby and I joked that it’s hard to believe we ever had time to work with all the other stuff there was to do.  Time just flew by.

As I took on consulting gigs and assorted part-time work, once again time became a blessing and a curse.  Productivity went up the busier I became, yet personal satisfaction decreased as I was stretched so thin.  Gym work-outs became 15 minutes – if that – and personal goals were put on the back-burner.

The constant struggle to focus on career, look for a new job, and/or build a consulting business, make money in the meantime, and find time for family – that’s where I’m at now. 

To top it off, my one day each week that’s supposed to be dedicated to working on personal goals has become a fire-drill for the umpteen other things that I’m trying to juggle.  It’s hard to eliminate any of the items on my plate as they are all meant to help my career.  And it’s frustrating.

Maybe I should develop a time machine or other contraption that would slow things down, allow me to savor the moments.

Despite the time crunch, there are plenty of positives.  The good news is that I’m vertical.  And I’ve got options.  Too many options, but at least I’m engaged in the game of life.  I’m happy to have things to keep me busy, as I hear from others in the workforce that they are worried about their jobs as work slows down in this economy. I need to remember this when I get frustrated.

Yes, time is a funny thing.

© Tami Cannizzaro 2011 All Rights Reserved