Okay, first, I never saw the movie (or read the book) I've referenced here, but my daughter talks about it all the time. And second, before you say that there couldn't possibly be any perks of being unemployed, read on. And know that I can only write this with a sense of humor because starting Monday, I will be anything but unemployed, at least for the next few months of soaps online production.
So, without further ado---
1. You learn a little more about the people in your building. I never would have known about the elderly man who sits in the lobby, either alone or "holding court," all day every day or the woman who comes home midday to walk her dog when no one else can. I never would have known that I was far from the only person looking for work--it has been a way more common situation than I'd imagined.
2. You learn a little more about your apartment. I would like to say you keep it a lot cleaner, but that would be a baldfaced lie.
3. You experience a school bus strike not just as an untenable monkey wrench in your daily schedule, but as a chance to see new things with your kids and encourage their independence.
4. You have the ability to decide on a dinner and buy the ingredients that day to cook it. (Okay, I did this probably fewer than ten times over the course of a year, but...)
5. You have time not just to keep in touch with old friends, but to make new ones, and to cultivate those friendships so that they will continue even when there isn't as much time for coffee meetings and lunches.
Clearly, the perks aren't the whole story. My children, who have heard a lot of "no," and my husband, who has dealt with a lot of bill-paying, and my bank account, which hasn't seen a lot of action, can all tell you that. But, as I head into an exciting new challenge, I am determined to remember what most of this last year has done for me (not just TO me) and my family. If we can't find value and joy in even the hardest of situations, then, the way I see it, we waste a whole lot of time along the way. I haven't got that kind of time to waste. And, when you think about it, does anyone, really?
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Wiggle Room
As I was walking out the door this morning, at the time I know I need to in order to make the train to Stamford that I'm supposed to take without taking a cab to get to the train station, my daughter said, "Mommy, I have a question." I listened as I opened our door and she started to ask, but by the time I would have had to answer, I had said, "Bye, have a good day," and I was gone.
That is the difference between Stamford and the Upper West Side (where the ABC soaps were based for years). There is no wiggle room, at least none without cost. If I don't make the correct train, I will be late to work, or standing at the Stamford station or taking a cab from the Stamford Station or driving to Stamford myself. There are options, but each is costly in one way or another, and if I am traveling to Stamford to work, I certainly don't want to be spending everything I work for on those kinds of options.
As I walk through Grand Central every morning, I see thousands of people who are doing the very same thing. For years, I heard members of the One Life to Live crew talk about how long they'd be waiting for their next train or bus if we didn't finish in the next fifteen minutes. At the time, what I took away from it all was an ongoing resolve to stay in the city--to remain free of such unforgiving transportation schedules and the ramifications of them in an industry that frequently works long days. And, yet, here I am. As all of those friends of mine got used to the effect of train and bus schedules on their days, my family and I will too. We will learn to ask questions earlier, and make lunches more efficiently. I will learn to make the train time my friend (as I am doing right now, writing this post so that my home time will be freer for my kids).
And we will find wiggle room again. It might just be in other places.
That is the difference between Stamford and the Upper West Side (where the ABC soaps were based for years). There is no wiggle room, at least none without cost. If I don't make the correct train, I will be late to work, or standing at the Stamford station or taking a cab from the Stamford Station or driving to Stamford myself. There are options, but each is costly in one way or another, and if I am traveling to Stamford to work, I certainly don't want to be spending everything I work for on those kinds of options.
As I walk through Grand Central every morning, I see thousands of people who are doing the very same thing. For years, I heard members of the One Life to Live crew talk about how long they'd be waiting for their next train or bus if we didn't finish in the next fifteen minutes. At the time, what I took away from it all was an ongoing resolve to stay in the city--to remain free of such unforgiving transportation schedules and the ramifications of them in an industry that frequently works long days. And, yet, here I am. As all of those friends of mine got used to the effect of train and bus schedules on their days, my family and I will too. We will learn to ask questions earlier, and make lunches more efficiently. I will learn to make the train time my friend (as I am doing right now, writing this post so that my home time will be freer for my kids).
And we will find wiggle room again. It might just be in other places.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Small Victories
As I am not quite full time in Stamford yet, I was home today. But, as my son was not quite full time at school today (half day for parent-teacher conferences), what started out as a day intended to accomplish all the little things that will fall through the cracks once I am full time turned into a not so productive, schleppy kind of a day. Complete with rain.
On a day like this, made up of too-short pockets of time, it is easy to bemoan the number of things that have not gotten done, and believe me, I'm not too happy about the status of my to-do list. But I find that it is much more productive to focus on all the little things that DID get done, the little victories in the face of an unusual schedule and less than perfect weather conditions.
I put children on school buses (okay, that's not really an accomplishment, it's just a daily event). I made three lunches (okay, well, two and a half, really, since one child had a half-day and didn't really need a lunch. And I gave two drinks to one child and none to another, but...) Perhaps I should skip past the kids' departures!
I scheduled yearly checkup visits with my kids' pediatrician (which will have to be changed because not only are they too soon for the insurance company, they are in direct conflict with another commitment). I cleaned piles of stuff off the couches (and those piles have now been replaced with other piles). I laid out an ad for my daughter's school yearbook (which will likely change when she sees I have used a several year ago picture of her). I bought tickets for one daughter's play (but only for other people, not for us, since we can't seem to figure out which of the six performances we'll attend). It appears that all these things will be on a to-redo list tomorrow. Sigh.
So, on this half-day conference day, what I can say I really accomplished would be picking up my son from his half-day bus and having my conference with his teacher. With a few rain-filled bus and subway trips in between. Oh, and lunch and a book for the half-dayer.
And, I guess today, those will be my small victories.
On a day like this, made up of too-short pockets of time, it is easy to bemoan the number of things that have not gotten done, and believe me, I'm not too happy about the status of my to-do list. But I find that it is much more productive to focus on all the little things that DID get done, the little victories in the face of an unusual schedule and less than perfect weather conditions.
I put children on school buses (okay, that's not really an accomplishment, it's just a daily event). I made three lunches (okay, well, two and a half, really, since one child had a half-day and didn't really need a lunch. And I gave two drinks to one child and none to another, but...) Perhaps I should skip past the kids' departures!
I scheduled yearly checkup visits with my kids' pediatrician (which will have to be changed because not only are they too soon for the insurance company, they are in direct conflict with another commitment). I cleaned piles of stuff off the couches (and those piles have now been replaced with other piles). I laid out an ad for my daughter's school yearbook (which will likely change when she sees I have used a several year ago picture of her). I bought tickets for one daughter's play (but only for other people, not for us, since we can't seem to figure out which of the six performances we'll attend). It appears that all these things will be on a to-redo list tomorrow. Sigh.
So, on this half-day conference day, what I can say I really accomplished would be picking up my son from his half-day bus and having my conference with his teacher. With a few rain-filled bus and subway trips in between. Oh, and lunch and a book for the half-dayer.
And, I guess today, those will be my small victories.
Monday, March 11, 2013
I Can Do That!
Almost 15 years ago, I co-produced and directed a video called "I Can Do That," which aimed to help girls learn about and aspire to careers not traditionally pursued by women. We interviewed working women about their jobs and preteen girls about their aspirations, and to this day, I think about how capable the girls were of saying they were good at doing certain things, at owning their strengths. It has taken me years to get to that point, despite having accomplished a variety of things in my career and with my family. When I think back to those girls, I am reminded of how interesting that ability made them, and I wonder if they, now women in their 20s, have continued to have that ability as they have started their careers. (Given that they were part of a video about non-traditional careers, I also wonder where they ended up!)
One of the nice things, I am realizing, about Stamford, is that, while I am doing some of the same things I have done for years, it is different, and new enough to let me be that "I Can Do That" person. I can bring all that I have learned--on soaps, on sitcoms, on reality shows, and in life--and know that, in doing so, I can own my skills. I can say "I'm good at," and back it up with confidence and experience.
Although "I Can Do That: A Career Video For Girls" came out over a decade ago (and with help from my producing partner and a whole lot of donors, was distributed free to hundreds of schools nationwide), it still resonates with me today. Because, while many of us may question our abilities on a daily basis, it is always a good day to change course, and instead have the strength to say "I can do that!"
One of the nice things, I am realizing, about Stamford, is that, while I am doing some of the same things I have done for years, it is different, and new enough to let me be that "I Can Do That" person. I can bring all that I have learned--on soaps, on sitcoms, on reality shows, and in life--and know that, in doing so, I can own my skills. I can say "I'm good at," and back it up with confidence and experience.
Although "I Can Do That: A Career Video For Girls" came out over a decade ago (and with help from my producing partner and a whole lot of donors, was distributed free to hundreds of schools nationwide), it still resonates with me today. Because, while many of us may question our abilities on a daily basis, it is always a good day to change course, and instead have the strength to say "I can do that!"
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Second Sets of Eyes
When I started writing this blog, one or both of my daughters read each post before I published. They gave grammatical and content notes, or sometimes just a thumbs up. It was because they read every day that they knew what I was thinking and because they read every day that they were able to "pinch write" for me when I was sick. But days go by quickly, and the habit of having them read has largely fallen by the wayside.
I realized last night how much I miss that step in the process. It was a night when I was writing far too late. When, after a long day, most of me just wanted to be in bed. But I wrote the post, and when the girls asked to read it and did not exactly give that thumbs up, I was far beyond being able to revise it before posting and going to bed. I hit "publish," and I went to bed feeling terrible that I hadn't been able to address their notes.
While almost any blog comes from the writer's thoughts and feelings, and while one of the glories of this blog is writing and not spending days and months to revise, there is nothing like a second set of eyes to make a post (or any piece of writing) at least a little bit better. Not only was having my kids read a way of letting them approve writing that might make reference to them, it was almost a bonding experience, a reminder that sometimes kids know better, and I gave that up in order to be able to write and publish whenever I wanted, without being responsible to my young editors.
How I felt after last night's un-edited, not exactly thumbs up post has taught me a lesson. So, though my kids may be doing homework or practicing piano, I will once again be calling upon them to read. Because, while "Not Washed Up Yet" may be filled with my words, it is the story of us all.
I realized last night how much I miss that step in the process. It was a night when I was writing far too late. When, after a long day, most of me just wanted to be in bed. But I wrote the post, and when the girls asked to read it and did not exactly give that thumbs up, I was far beyond being able to revise it before posting and going to bed. I hit "publish," and I went to bed feeling terrible that I hadn't been able to address their notes.
While almost any blog comes from the writer's thoughts and feelings, and while one of the glories of this blog is writing and not spending days and months to revise, there is nothing like a second set of eyes to make a post (or any piece of writing) at least a little bit better. Not only was having my kids read a way of letting them approve writing that might make reference to them, it was almost a bonding experience, a reminder that sometimes kids know better, and I gave that up in order to be able to write and publish whenever I wanted, without being responsible to my young editors.
How I felt after last night's un-edited, not exactly thumbs up post has taught me a lesson. So, though my kids may be doing homework or practicing piano, I will once again be calling upon them to read. Because, while "Not Washed Up Yet" may be filled with my words, it is the story of us all.
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Thinking and Feeling
When I was between jobs, I did a great deal of feeling. Which is not to say I didn't think a lot too--about how to rework my resume, how to learn new computer programs, how to coordinate my children's schedules and activities when I was sitter-free. But I had a lot of time to feel as well. Feel sad, feel frustrated, feel angry, feel discouraged. And once in a while, when I was enjoying my family or returning from a good job interview, I would feel elated.
Working, however, means a lot more thinking than feeling. While in my line of work, there is an element of feeling to make the most sensitive edits and tell the most compelling stories, a working person is generally expected to think through solutions, work out logistics, and leave emotions at home. So, this last week, the thinking has largely obliterated the feeling. When we sit down to family dinner these days (yes, we try for that daily), the discussion quickly turns less to how we feel and more to how we will get all of our daily jobs done.
There's nothing wrong with thinking. In fact, the mental gymnastics are kind of a welcome relief from any number of feelings I've had over the last year. But not wearing my heart on my sleeve creates a completely new vibe at home, and a new vibe for writing this blog. I have to dig deeper for the real emotions. They're there, just sometimes a little harder to find.
So, despite the new writing challenge, I'll be embracing some of the thinking for now. It makes things a little trickier. But it feels pretty darn good.
Working, however, means a lot more thinking than feeling. While in my line of work, there is an element of feeling to make the most sensitive edits and tell the most compelling stories, a working person is generally expected to think through solutions, work out logistics, and leave emotions at home. So, this last week, the thinking has largely obliterated the feeling. When we sit down to family dinner these days (yes, we try for that daily), the discussion quickly turns less to how we feel and more to how we will get all of our daily jobs done.
There's nothing wrong with thinking. In fact, the mental gymnastics are kind of a welcome relief from any number of feelings I've had over the last year. But not wearing my heart on my sleeve creates a completely new vibe at home, and a new vibe for writing this blog. I have to dig deeper for the real emotions. They're there, just sometimes a little harder to find.
So, despite the new writing challenge, I'll be embracing some of the thinking for now. It makes things a little trickier. But it feels pretty darn good.
Friday, March 8, 2013
Don't Forget To Enjoy
You would think that, having had more at-home time on my hands than usual, I would have spent a lot of hours preparing for my kids' birthday parties. But suddenly the first was upon me, and I was completely UNprepared. So I spent much of today baking a cake, cleaning, and in general, worrying about my daughter's party. Had I arranged just the right things for her and her friends? Would the logistics come together, or were there gaps in my planning that would cause the whole thing to come crashing down?
And then I realized that this is a celebration of her birth a bunch of years ago. Though not planned to the nines, it is a party in a line of parties that have been uniquely hers. And it is an event that will occur just once this year. No matter how it comes together, it will come and go before I know it. So above all, I should make sure to enjoy it.
What? Enjoy it? It's my daughter's party--I'm just the organizer. Maybe, but how often do you have the opportunity to do a kids' activity? How often do you have the opportunity to make your own pasta bar and watch how different people approach it? How often do you have the opportunity to eat cake and ice cream and get a little extra icing because it's you who made the cake?
I find that as parents, and just as people in a busy world, we spend so much time making arrangements for everything, trying to ensure that things go off without a hitch, that we often forget to stop and enjoy the fruits of our labors. With the rush to the next event always upon us, we end up more concerned with continued accomplishment than with what we have actually produced.
So today, as I watched nine kids stuff teddy bears, and sing, and chow down on pasta with assorted sauces and cake with green frosting, I laughed and snapped funny pictures and licked the frosting from the spoon. Because a birthday comes just once a year. And you shouldn't forget to enjoy it.
And then I realized that this is a celebration of her birth a bunch of years ago. Though not planned to the nines, it is a party in a line of parties that have been uniquely hers. And it is an event that will occur just once this year. No matter how it comes together, it will come and go before I know it. So above all, I should make sure to enjoy it.
What? Enjoy it? It's my daughter's party--I'm just the organizer. Maybe, but how often do you have the opportunity to do a kids' activity? How often do you have the opportunity to make your own pasta bar and watch how different people approach it? How often do you have the opportunity to eat cake and ice cream and get a little extra icing because it's you who made the cake?
I find that as parents, and just as people in a busy world, we spend so much time making arrangements for everything, trying to ensure that things go off without a hitch, that we often forget to stop and enjoy the fruits of our labors. With the rush to the next event always upon us, we end up more concerned with continued accomplishment than with what we have actually produced.
So today, as I watched nine kids stuff teddy bears, and sing, and chow down on pasta with assorted sauces and cake with green frosting, I laughed and snapped funny pictures and licked the frosting from the spoon. Because a birthday comes just once a year. And you shouldn't forget to enjoy it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)