Alright, alright. I could sit here and patronize you all with my apologies about how it has been sooooo long since I wrote, but that wouldn't actually do anything, now would it? And so, I am back. Perhaps even with a vengeance, but probably not. In all honesty, I have really missed you - what little audience I have. I have missed writing my random adventures, wild antics, and above all, day-to-day stupidities. What I find humorous in all this is that the last time I wrote, which was back in December, I recall I was dating a young gentleman. Said gentleman was well aware of my blog, and, when he spent the weekend, he specifically said "I better not show up in your blog!" - well too bad darling!! As fleeting as the moment is, here you are. And we are no longer dating - THAT much time has passed since I last wrote.
So here we are. The New Year is in full swing, and after what felt like an eternity, I am writing again. I suppose that as a welcome back post, I should start by explaining my leave of abscence. My ahem, beloved boss informed me - and the rest of my team for that matter - during a meeting in December that we were expected to make use of the $1500.00 we have at our disposal for continuing education and professional development. Free money you say? Yes please; just point me in its direction. As a result, I quickly found myself enrolled not only in Introduction to Project Management, but also Level 1 Spanish. In the blink of an eye, I signed away six - that's right - SIX entire Saturdays, as well as Tuesday and Thursday nights. Apparently, I thought this would be a good idea, and that more importantly, I was feeling up to the daunting challenge.
Fast forward past pneumonia plagued holidays, a cliché New Year's Eve midnight kiss and a return to work straight out of a horror novel, and I found myself about to begin class. I would love to say that I was mature about this, but the truth could not be further from. On the eve of the death of my social life for six weeks, I received a text from the dreaded ex informing me he would be attending a party where I would be that evening, with the sister of one of my best friends. Really? REALLY? Thanks for nothing - again. After sending my colourfully worded well-wishings to him, I decided to venture to the psychic fair in hopes of getting some sort of news that might turn this day around. *Allow me to digress for a moment: The day sucked in particular because not only would I see my ex, but I would see him at Cookie Monster's house - where Cookie Monster would be with his girlfriend, whom he met at Halloween...read back to Pumpkin Spice...On Ice to refresh your memory as to how horribly awry that night went.* I am still not certain why I thought any psychic would ever give me good news - as I sat down, I felt an ominous cloud settle over me. I shuffled and cut the deck, and the reading started. Failure. Yes, that is the FIRST card that was flipped over. W.O.W. I was aghast. Especially when three cards later, she flipped the Fool. I nearly lost my shit. The boy who had left me mildly broken-hearted but three days earlier had that EXACT card tattooed on his calf. I was on the verge of tears, and most certainly ready to leave. I'd had enough - time to get to this party, and get my drink on.
I woke Saturday morning after an awesome four hours of sleep in less than stellar shape. I took off like a bat out of hell - it was that or go back to bed. Not only did I arrive on time, I arrived ahead of time. The class started, and I was instantly absorbed - I could tell that the six Saturdays would be well worth it, despite having to listen to some really annoying people. I left that Saturday looking forward to the next five classes, and to the challenges the class would present. Spanish was much less exciting, pero, hoy yo hablo un poco de Espanol. Honestly, the first two weeks were not so bad, but it quickly became very obvious to me why I had decided early on in life to just plow through school - returning is really tough. Especially with a full-time job. The energy isn't the same anymore, priorities change, and it is battle to try to find time to dedicate to reading some very dry material, and completing homework assignments. After the ex moved out of the house last year, I stopped drinking coffee. It wasn't planned, but I liked that I felt better without it. School drove me right back into its sweet, loving arms. It was a brief encounter with hell, but I must admit, at the end of the day, I love going back to school. Even though it took away from just about everything else, I still totally rocked both my classes - 87% in Introduction to Project Management and an SC in Spanish - I assume based on test results and attendance I have a grade somewhere in the 85-90% range.
Paired with school came a complete and total lack of time to go to the gym. That and the second bout of pneumonia over the Christmas holidays led me to believe that perhaps a break from physical exercise was a good thing; it would let my lungs heal and get back into shape. It also meant that I no longer had that time every day where I could tune out and just observe life happening around me - I lost my primary source of writing inspiration!! Add to the lack gym time (or any time at all for that matter) the fact that I met a boy who lives out of town and you have the perfect recipe for me not writing. But even if we removed Mr. Paul from the equation, I still would not have had the time or energy to write. Truth be told, I wrote a post upon my return from the 514 back in January. It was almost complete, but as I re-read it, I couldn't help but feel disgust - I wasn't proud of what I had written. It lacked the usual depth you have all becomed so accustomed to, as well as any type of heart on my behalf. I just wasn't proud of what was displayed on the screen in front of me - how could I even think of clicking the "Publish" button. I deleted that post tonight, and at the same time made somewhat of a personal vow never to write when I don't feel up to it - why write garbage? Though I am certain some of these posts are questionnable in their nature, I am proud of all I have written so far - yes, even the "smut"...
And so on that note, welcome back. Welcome back to BATS, and welcome back to me, Miss Milie B. It is presently 10:15pm on a Wednesday night. As I look out my 11th story balcony window, I see a white screen, and millions of tiny snowflakes falling all at once. As mother nature covers the city in her white blanket, all I can think is it's nice to write again. No - it's excellent to write again, and I can't wait for my next post. I hope you all enjoyed your holiday season as much as I did mine, that your New Year has been nothing less than prosperous until now,and I hope you will all continue to read (and forgive my being M.I.A. for 3 months)!
-Milie B.
Showing posts with label Life Lessons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life Lessons. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Holidays: Friend Or Foe?
I know it has been quite some time since I wrote (at least that's how it feels on my end), however, life always seems to get in the way these days. No matter how much I get home and say "Write!!!", the opposite seems to happen. I really am sorry - I am hoping that in the spirit of the holidays, you can all forgive me. Since the countdown to Christmas holidays now has even less days than the last time I wrote, I thought I would discuss them some more, and whether or not they are the best or worst time of year. Granted everyone's opinion differs, this is MY blog, so right now, what matters is MY opinion...This is, after all, what has kept you coming back faithfully - my oh-so politically correct views, and obviously optimistic attitude regarding everyday subjects. Let's get to it, shall we?
If I appear a tad bitter about today's topic, the holidays, it is perhaps because if I look back to a year ago, I was in the crappiest place I have ever been for the holidays - the beginning of the end of what I had believed to be my "happily ever after". Work had distracted for most of the month, but once I was on vacation, I found myself at home, and feeling more alone than ever. Bambi, through no fault of her own, barely had enough time to sleep, let alone time for a few good heart to hearts with yours truly. Instead, I sought comfort and advice in one of my closest guy friends, and then found myself falling for him, which just made everything worse. Instead of spending the holidays with the love of my life, I found myself dodging him at every corner, contemplating everything we were and stood for - and everyone could see it. Everyone watched us crumble as though we were that lonely cookie left at the bottom of the bag, with no one to lean on, to one to help us stay whole and strong. And every night, as I told him that I loved him, and as I crawled into his arms in bed, I felt a piece of me die.
Fast-forward 12 months...Now, I find myself single and much happier than I was a year ago. But alas, the holidays is most certainly THE time of year that you want to have someone special in your life. It is always so nice to feel fuzzy inside as you feel that special someone's gaze on you as you open a present, solidly kick their ass at the annual Legault-Bédard Monopoly battle or as you sit by a fire and enjoy a nice glass of red wine. This year, I get to watch others do that, and take my place as a bystander. I won't get to feel that gaze, or be the culprit responsible for someone else's ear-to-ear smile as they open that gift I picked out perfectly. I will wake up alone on Christmas morning, I won't get to be snuggled under a mountain of blankets, or hear that "I love you" as I open my eyes, and I certainly won't be stealing kisses under the mistletoe hung in the front entrance. I can't help but feel a little sad about the fact that no one will be seeking ME out at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve, anxiously awaiting that cliché, but oh-so-delicious, first kiss of the New Year. This year, I will present my date as "my friend" at my work party, not my significant other...I will also pray that he doesn't pull a Hank Moody and hit on every girl there he finds to his liking, though technically, he is certainly allowed to - after all, there really is nothing going on between us.
Sigh.
Now, rewind to 11:00am today, December 14th, 2010. As I sat in a meeting at work half listening to my team mates, half asleep, someone brought up the dreaded subject of "coverage" while we are all away from the office for two weeks. Apparently, this person didn't remember that last year, NO ONE on our team had Blackberries, only Account Managers had bring-home laptops and oh ya - no one died. Our Out of Office responses on Outlook were enough for our clients to realize that we were on vacation and barring World War III, any issues they had could - and would - be resolved upon our return. To sum it up, last year, we actually got vacation. This year, the Account Managers have Blackberries and the assistants have bring-home laptops. And to a certain extent, we are ALL on call. What. The. Fuck. Is. THAT? So if I understand correctly, the office is closed for a week, I am NOT allowed to carry any of my vacation over to the new year thereby forcing me to take time off, but I am expected to check my emails to make sure the clients are supported? How does that make sense? Did I mention I don't get paid for having to check these emails? Not that I have to respond, I just have to check to make sure nothing is pressing, but that requires me to spend at least a half hour opening, reading and assessing emails - ya, I would say that sounds like working. I realize that sometimes you have to do things that aren't exactly "included in the job description", but this is most certainly pushing the envelope, and the expectations mean I won't get to fully enjoy my vacation. You aren't supposed to check your emails during vacation - the point is to take a break so you don't have a meltdown, so your brain can not think for a period of time - so you can come back feeling rested, and maybe even excited about the new year. And some might say that I should count my blessings since I have a job to begin with, and to those people, I say screw you - for 45K/year + the bullshit I put up with on an almost daily basis, checking my email while on vacation is NOT in my job description. If you want me to check them, then give me more money.
So, being single and having to check email aside, I must admit that I am looking forward to vacation - can I call it Fake-ation?- this year. Just a tad. This year, yet again, I get a whole two weeks off. My twin from another mother also gets a ton of time off, so the 21st, she is driving in from Toronto and coming to spend a few days with me before jetting to Montreal to see her family. I get to go shopping, have late breakfasts, sleep in (because she likes to sleep in too!) and just enjoy her company. When my turn finally comes to head off to the 514, I will be hitting up my friend's Latin Invasion soirée at an intimate little venue, and dance to my heart's content - also with a ton of friends that I don't see as often as I should. On the 24th, I know I can look forward to the traditional dinner with those closest to me, and even though I will be doing it up single-styles, I know it will still kick some serious ass. After all the Christmas brou-ha-ha, I get to hit up the Biodome and go hang out with some awesome mammals, rock the ski slopes with the twin, and do up some serious breakfast lounging at L'Avenue with another best girlfriend. I am then topping off that week with a New Year's celebration in cottage country, off the beaten path, where I can frolic in the snow, sleep late, and just be silly while enjoying home made pizza and having my butt handed to me during random occurences of "Game Time!".
I have yet to decide whether or not I am excited about the impending holidays. Technically, I suppose they have already arrived and are already sucking large, but I have decided to wear my optimist hat, and hope for the best. Don't get me wrong, I fully expect the worse, but I am willing to remain open to the idea that maybe this year will be different. This will be the last "usual" Christmas I get to spend with my family for the next few years, and I guess I would rather not write it off completely until I am at least half-way through it. And in the event that push comes to shove, I suppose a little booze can always help brighten the mess up.
Now to start thinking of resolutions I might keep...
-Milie B.
If I appear a tad bitter about today's topic, the holidays, it is perhaps because if I look back to a year ago, I was in the crappiest place I have ever been for the holidays - the beginning of the end of what I had believed to be my "happily ever after". Work had distracted for most of the month, but once I was on vacation, I found myself at home, and feeling more alone than ever. Bambi, through no fault of her own, barely had enough time to sleep, let alone time for a few good heart to hearts with yours truly. Instead, I sought comfort and advice in one of my closest guy friends, and then found myself falling for him, which just made everything worse. Instead of spending the holidays with the love of my life, I found myself dodging him at every corner, contemplating everything we were and stood for - and everyone could see it. Everyone watched us crumble as though we were that lonely cookie left at the bottom of the bag, with no one to lean on, to one to help us stay whole and strong. And every night, as I told him that I loved him, and as I crawled into his arms in bed, I felt a piece of me die.
Fast-forward 12 months...Now, I find myself single and much happier than I was a year ago. But alas, the holidays is most certainly THE time of year that you want to have someone special in your life. It is always so nice to feel fuzzy inside as you feel that special someone's gaze on you as you open a present, solidly kick their ass at the annual Legault-Bédard Monopoly battle or as you sit by a fire and enjoy a nice glass of red wine. This year, I get to watch others do that, and take my place as a bystander. I won't get to feel that gaze, or be the culprit responsible for someone else's ear-to-ear smile as they open that gift I picked out perfectly. I will wake up alone on Christmas morning, I won't get to be snuggled under a mountain of blankets, or hear that "I love you" as I open my eyes, and I certainly won't be stealing kisses under the mistletoe hung in the front entrance. I can't help but feel a little sad about the fact that no one will be seeking ME out at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve, anxiously awaiting that cliché, but oh-so-delicious, first kiss of the New Year. This year, I will present my date as "my friend" at my work party, not my significant other...I will also pray that he doesn't pull a Hank Moody and hit on every girl there he finds to his liking, though technically, he is certainly allowed to - after all, there really is nothing going on between us.
Sigh.
Now, rewind to 11:00am today, December 14th, 2010. As I sat in a meeting at work half listening to my team mates, half asleep, someone brought up the dreaded subject of "coverage" while we are all away from the office for two weeks. Apparently, this person didn't remember that last year, NO ONE on our team had Blackberries, only Account Managers had bring-home laptops and oh ya - no one died. Our Out of Office responses on Outlook were enough for our clients to realize that we were on vacation and barring World War III, any issues they had could - and would - be resolved upon our return. To sum it up, last year, we actually got vacation. This year, the Account Managers have Blackberries and the assistants have bring-home laptops. And to a certain extent, we are ALL on call. What. The. Fuck. Is. THAT? So if I understand correctly, the office is closed for a week, I am NOT allowed to carry any of my vacation over to the new year thereby forcing me to take time off, but I am expected to check my emails to make sure the clients are supported? How does that make sense? Did I mention I don't get paid for having to check these emails? Not that I have to respond, I just have to check to make sure nothing is pressing, but that requires me to spend at least a half hour opening, reading and assessing emails - ya, I would say that sounds like working. I realize that sometimes you have to do things that aren't exactly "included in the job description", but this is most certainly pushing the envelope, and the expectations mean I won't get to fully enjoy my vacation. You aren't supposed to check your emails during vacation - the point is to take a break so you don't have a meltdown, so your brain can not think for a period of time - so you can come back feeling rested, and maybe even excited about the new year. And some might say that I should count my blessings since I have a job to begin with, and to those people, I say screw you - for 45K/year + the bullshit I put up with on an almost daily basis, checking my email while on vacation is NOT in my job description. If you want me to check them, then give me more money.
So, being single and having to check email aside, I must admit that I am looking forward to vacation - can I call it Fake-ation?- this year. Just a tad. This year, yet again, I get a whole two weeks off. My twin from another mother also gets a ton of time off, so the 21st, she is driving in from Toronto and coming to spend a few days with me before jetting to Montreal to see her family. I get to go shopping, have late breakfasts, sleep in (because she likes to sleep in too!) and just enjoy her company. When my turn finally comes to head off to the 514, I will be hitting up my friend's Latin Invasion soirée at an intimate little venue, and dance to my heart's content - also with a ton of friends that I don't see as often as I should. On the 24th, I know I can look forward to the traditional dinner with those closest to me, and even though I will be doing it up single-styles, I know it will still kick some serious ass. After all the Christmas brou-ha-ha, I get to hit up the Biodome and go hang out with some awesome mammals, rock the ski slopes with the twin, and do up some serious breakfast lounging at L'Avenue with another best girlfriend. I am then topping off that week with a New Year's celebration in cottage country, off the beaten path, where I can frolic in the snow, sleep late, and just be silly while enjoying home made pizza and having my butt handed to me during random occurences of "Game Time!".
I have yet to decide whether or not I am excited about the impending holidays. Technically, I suppose they have already arrived and are already sucking large, but I have decided to wear my optimist hat, and hope for the best. Don't get me wrong, I fully expect the worse, but I am willing to remain open to the idea that maybe this year will be different. This will be the last "usual" Christmas I get to spend with my family for the next few years, and I guess I would rather not write it off completely until I am at least half-way through it. And in the event that push comes to shove, I suppose a little booze can always help brighten the mess up.
Now to start thinking of resolutions I might keep...
-Milie B.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Strategic Planning, 101
As a self-proclaimed procrastinator, I know all about putting things off until the last minute. Though it isn't exactly an enviable trait, I am proud to say that in doing so, I also developed the ability to write three 10 page essays in one day while studying at university. Recently, I have also been told at work that (perhaps) I need to be more proactive and less reactive. The truth of the matter is, I am actually very proactive, but it seems this only shines through when I actually care about the task at hand - or at the very least, am being treated with respect instead of being thrown under a metaphorical bus on a daily basis. But that's neither here nor there. I actually doubted my proactiveness until a friend told me he would be in my neck of the woods visiting for a few days...As you have probably already guessed, yes, this definitely has to do with sex...But it also served as an exercise in strategic planning - execution and observation of.
About a month ago, right after the disaster I like to refer to as Halloween 2010, Mr. T.O announced to me that he would be in town at the end of November. He informed me that he had picked up a contract here in Ottawa, and would be visiting/ working for about five days. Now, not to toot my own horn, but I knew when I visited the states in October that he found me to be a pretty awesome chick (I am quoting). I also knew from my visit that he is pretty bomb in das sack. So, when he mentioned his impending business trip, I knew two things were certain:
Being the proactive person I can apprently be, the first thing I did was run to the bathroom to grab my trusty Tri-cyclen, and then I ran to a calendar. After some quick math, and a quadruple-check (there was NO room for error here), I quickly realized that the weekend he would be in town was the dreaded "week" every woman gets to experience once monthly. This was simply unacceptable. I ran to the pharmacy and re-stocked knowing full well that if I didn't eat the sugar pills and started right away on the new pack, I would skip the week, and be free to frolic as late and as often as I pleased. In retrospect, this was an awesome move on my behalf. Awesome. When Mr. T.O finally arrived, I packed a bag and made my way to his hotel. It was funny because for once, I remembered to bring toothpaste, something I usually don't bring, only because I always anicipate the place where I am going will have some. Yet another awesome proactive move by yours truly, because Mr. T.O had none...When I left the next morning, I left it for him thinking this would save some time in his schedule - less running around meant more time to work, and the faster the work got done, the faster we could get back playtime.
The next time I was over, I found myself with gremlin breath...I had just devoured 3 pieces of pizza, and paired that with a large coffe, followed by a cigarette. Not very appetizing - it was my mouth and I couldn't stand the taste that was lingering around. In desperate need of some teeth brushing, and general oral cleansing, I made my way to the bathroom. Upon my arrival, I was quickly confused - I had left more than enough toothpaste for his stay (and for me to borrow if need be), yet the tube was nowhere to be found. I looked under towels, in a toiletries bag, on the shelves - nada. As embarassed as I was about my inability to locate something so simple, I asked "My mouth tastes like ass - where on earth did you put the toothpaste?". His answer, "In the shower, it's way more efficient if I can wash and brush my teeth at the same time!". Ahhh...So he was apparently all about strategic thinking as well - and I found this whole scenario amusing because I used to do the same thing. I crawled into bed shortly thereafter, in desperate need of sleep. It was time to wander off to dreamland...
Well...It seems as though Mr. T.O was even more of a strategic planner than I thought. He quickly joined in bed, and would have bet my left arm that he too was off to dreamland given the late night and long day he had just worked. I was wrong. He had gone so far as to work midnight athletics into his (our?) schedule. As we, ahem, got down to business, I was amazed yet again - normally, I keep latex products in all purses or bags or whatever. He had planned well enough in advance to actually relocate these from his backpack to the nightstand, to make them not only easily accessible, but also to save the time one (a.k.a. me) would spend looking and fumbling around for them. I won't go into any details regarding the 45 minutes that followed, but I will say that post-playtime, Mr. T.O was showered and back in bed in about 10 minutes flat. And as he crawled back in bed, and I began to doze off, I heard the unmistakeable clicking of a keyboard. That's right, he's also a machine - or workaholic, whichever you prefer. He was now planning his presentation for Monday morning.
I think we can all learn something from Mr. T.O - strategic planning plays a key role in being successful. Whether it is life, play or work, making a plan is not always such a bad idea (which reassures me, because I am such a planner!). These plans allow you to map out strategic ways of going about your business in an efficient manner so as to get more done in a short period of time, or to maximize the time you spend doing something - be it sex, work, vacation, etc. However, I think that the amount of planning we put into something is also indicative of its importance to us. I recently planned a dessert swap with some girlfriends of mine - I planned it because I know the holidays are stressful, and there is never enough time to bake, cook and get "life" done, and by doing this swap, I knew it would alleviate some pressure,and free up some time for my girlfriends to actually enjoy the holidays instead of spending them slaving in a kitchen. This way, they get a bunch of desserts, ready to serve, and only had to bake once (unless they choose to bake some more, but the point remains the same). I would never put this much effort into oh, I don't know, a potluck for work. Why? Because other than providing me with a decent salary, my work is simply not that important to me - it is not my passion, and as such, by no means deserves the love and attention that something I am passionate about deserves.
And remember, this is applicable to everything - strategic planning, I have found, is quite the tool when it comes to navigating busy shopping malls during the holidays!
-Milie B.
About a month ago, right after the disaster I like to refer to as Halloween 2010, Mr. T.O announced to me that he would be in town at the end of November. He informed me that he had picked up a contract here in Ottawa, and would be visiting/ working for about five days. Now, not to toot my own horn, but I knew when I visited the states in October that he found me to be a pretty awesome chick (I am quoting). I also knew from my visit that he is pretty bomb in das sack. So, when he mentioned his impending business trip, I knew two things were certain:
- I was going to get to hang out with him and finally get him to relax and get reacquainted with the meaning of the word
- I would have a few late nights due to midnight athletics
Being the proactive person I can apprently be, the first thing I did was run to the bathroom to grab my trusty Tri-cyclen, and then I ran to a calendar. After some quick math, and a quadruple-check (there was NO room for error here), I quickly realized that the weekend he would be in town was the dreaded "week" every woman gets to experience once monthly. This was simply unacceptable. I ran to the pharmacy and re-stocked knowing full well that if I didn't eat the sugar pills and started right away on the new pack, I would skip the week, and be free to frolic as late and as often as I pleased. In retrospect, this was an awesome move on my behalf. Awesome. When Mr. T.O finally arrived, I packed a bag and made my way to his hotel. It was funny because for once, I remembered to bring toothpaste, something I usually don't bring, only because I always anicipate the place where I am going will have some. Yet another awesome proactive move by yours truly, because Mr. T.O had none...When I left the next morning, I left it for him thinking this would save some time in his schedule - less running around meant more time to work, and the faster the work got done, the faster we could get back playtime.
The next time I was over, I found myself with gremlin breath...I had just devoured 3 pieces of pizza, and paired that with a large coffe, followed by a cigarette. Not very appetizing - it was my mouth and I couldn't stand the taste that was lingering around. In desperate need of some teeth brushing, and general oral cleansing, I made my way to the bathroom. Upon my arrival, I was quickly confused - I had left more than enough toothpaste for his stay (and for me to borrow if need be), yet the tube was nowhere to be found. I looked under towels, in a toiletries bag, on the shelves - nada. As embarassed as I was about my inability to locate something so simple, I asked "My mouth tastes like ass - where on earth did you put the toothpaste?". His answer, "In the shower, it's way more efficient if I can wash and brush my teeth at the same time!". Ahhh...So he was apparently all about strategic thinking as well - and I found this whole scenario amusing because I used to do the same thing. I crawled into bed shortly thereafter, in desperate need of sleep. It was time to wander off to dreamland...
Well...It seems as though Mr. T.O was even more of a strategic planner than I thought. He quickly joined in bed, and would have bet my left arm that he too was off to dreamland given the late night and long day he had just worked. I was wrong. He had gone so far as to work midnight athletics into his (our?) schedule. As we, ahem, got down to business, I was amazed yet again - normally, I keep latex products in all purses or bags or whatever. He had planned well enough in advance to actually relocate these from his backpack to the nightstand, to make them not only easily accessible, but also to save the time one (a.k.a. me) would spend looking and fumbling around for them. I won't go into any details regarding the 45 minutes that followed, but I will say that post-playtime, Mr. T.O was showered and back in bed in about 10 minutes flat. And as he crawled back in bed, and I began to doze off, I heard the unmistakeable clicking of a keyboard. That's right, he's also a machine - or workaholic, whichever you prefer. He was now planning his presentation for Monday morning.
I think we can all learn something from Mr. T.O - strategic planning plays a key role in being successful. Whether it is life, play or work, making a plan is not always such a bad idea (which reassures me, because I am such a planner!). These plans allow you to map out strategic ways of going about your business in an efficient manner so as to get more done in a short period of time, or to maximize the time you spend doing something - be it sex, work, vacation, etc. However, I think that the amount of planning we put into something is also indicative of its importance to us. I recently planned a dessert swap with some girlfriends of mine - I planned it because I know the holidays are stressful, and there is never enough time to bake, cook and get "life" done, and by doing this swap, I knew it would alleviate some pressure,and free up some time for my girlfriends to actually enjoy the holidays instead of spending them slaving in a kitchen. This way, they get a bunch of desserts, ready to serve, and only had to bake once (unless they choose to bake some more, but the point remains the same). I would never put this much effort into oh, I don't know, a potluck for work. Why? Because other than providing me with a decent salary, my work is simply not that important to me - it is not my passion, and as such, by no means deserves the love and attention that something I am passionate about deserves.
And remember, this is applicable to everything - strategic planning, I have found, is quite the tool when it comes to navigating busy shopping malls during the holidays!
-Milie B.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Respect - A Not-So-Distant Relative of the Ghost of Christmas Past?
R-E-S-P-E-C-T - find out what it means to me...Guess what?! You're about to, really! There are a bunch of other things I really want to write about, but since the holiday season is right around the bend (hurrah), I thought I would throw this one into the mix before I broach anything else. As usual, this decision is not based on purely objective rationale, but rather, on my general dislike for 90% of society as a whole. Now, you may think what you will, but I am certain I am not the only person who feels this way, and the holiday season just accentuates this feeling. It's almost as though the blinking, brightly coloured lights and high-pitched Fa-la-la-la-la's serve as fuel, and feed this fire, this lack of respect towards others.
Where should I even begin...Since I brought up the holiday season, I think I will run on that tangent. The battle, I have found, begins before even entering the shopping mall. Actually, it begins before you even park. A lack of respect can often be observed as one TRIES to find a parking spot. Everyone is always in a rush for some reason, and it's as though any common sense they might have also goes out the window. The parking lot no longer serves its intended purpose, but rather, is transformed into a battle to the death. People forget all about their side mirrors or rear-view mirrors, they drift around corners like they are auditioning for the latest installment in the Fast & Furious saga. In the event you are lucky enough to come across an empty parking spot, you should also be ready to duel, as there is a high to very high probability that someone else has spotted it too, and is now tracking you, like a mountain lion would it's prey, just waiting to snatch it up at the last second, leaving you back at square one. And don't for a moment think that someone will respect that turning signal indicating you are parking there - it is every man for himself.
Let's now assume that someone had enough basic respect to stop their vehicle, and allow you to cross safely at the crosswalk, designated mall entrance. After a few near-fatal misses, you have now reached what I like to refer to as the pinnacle of Hell. This my friends is where the battle ups it's ante, and the blood-lust begins. Everywhere you look, there are people - and not just people, but MASSES of people. People with children, people who live in retirement homes and move slower than a snail, people who are also letting the holiday stress get the better of them and having public disputes with their loved ones, who are equally stressed by this holiday shopping experience. When you walk into any given store, your mission is no longer just to make it out with "only what you NEED to buy", it is now to try and locate what you need, purchase it, and do so without taking out a few people along the way. Everyone has bags upon bags, and yet no one seems to be aware of this - anytime you try to make your way through a crowded aisle to get to whatever you need, you risk an eye because no one can keep the bags down low, at their sides, the way one should. To add to the stress, there are always a strict minimum of five children throwing various tantrums, screaming, crying and running between your legs out of control as you try to dodge the aforementioned mags. And then, just when you think you have finally done it, you reach for that item you so desperately seek, and someone gets to it before you do, snatching it right up from under your hands.
Feeling mainly defeated, but still slightly hopeful, you attempt to locate a store employee. Let's take another moment to remember that this holiday shopping period stresses out everyone, including the store employees. When you finally manage to locate one, you enter a 15 minute queue - not ideal, but you do want that thing you went to the store for. After a seemingly never ending wait, it is finally your turn! You explain to said employee what your situation is, and kindly ask "Was that the last one, or perhaps do you have another in the back somewhere?". The response you often get "Well if there's none left on the shelf, I guess there's none left!", often accompanied by one of those smug looks like he/she is just soooooo much smarter than you. Well, if you were smart, you would do your job - this means instead of giving me attitude, you would walk yourself into the back-store and check, I won't even know if you actually checked, but I will smile and say thanks even if you humoured me and only pretended to check, or at least offered to check another store location, or order it - anything really.
That scenario I just mentioned, it's a little like washing and rinsing your hair - repeat. in. every. store. After this long day of attempted (perhaps even successful) shopping, one last obstacle stands between you and home base, aka, your home. The damn parking lot - again. Remember everything I wrote about that parking lot earlier, well now, consider this - there is a good chance everyone has had the same general kind of day you have, so there is an even better chance that they are now just as irate with everyone around them as you are. This means that people have even less respect for you, your space, your car, and the obvious crosswalk you are so carefully and frightfully trying to traverse. As you finally reach your car, you can only hope that buddy who was parked thisclose to you before didn't leave a nice dent, and breathe a sigh of relief when you find your vehicle intact. As the cars slowly crawl out of the parking lot, you hear horns honking, see people (maybe even me!) swearing in their cars at the idiots in front of them and a few people are even kind enough to utilize sign-language, letting other motorists know exactly how they feel about them.
Listen up folks - I don't like most people in general society. I don't. And it isn't because I am not a people person, it is because of scenarios like these. No one seems to realize that the world's population is on the rise, and as such, it means you need to be more aware of your surroundings. It means you need to have respect for people's personal space, and throw out an apology once in awhile if you invade it. It means you have to understand that you are not the only person that is frustrated, but that yelling won't get you any further. It means you have to try to keep your cool even when you are about to lose your shit, it means you need to be the bigger person. Respect is a tough game - it is much easier to let your emotions get the better of you, and it is easy, especially during the holidays, to make yourself #1 and push others to the wayside. Let this holiday shopping season be a season of change - take a deep breath, and ask yourself - is this how I want to be treated? If you answer no, then remember that - keep yourself in check when you find yourself in one of these less than ideal situations, respect others and their space, and they might just do the same...But "might" is the operative word.
-Milie B.
Where should I even begin...Since I brought up the holiday season, I think I will run on that tangent. The battle, I have found, begins before even entering the shopping mall. Actually, it begins before you even park. A lack of respect can often be observed as one TRIES to find a parking spot. Everyone is always in a rush for some reason, and it's as though any common sense they might have also goes out the window. The parking lot no longer serves its intended purpose, but rather, is transformed into a battle to the death. People forget all about their side mirrors or rear-view mirrors, they drift around corners like they are auditioning for the latest installment in the Fast & Furious saga. In the event you are lucky enough to come across an empty parking spot, you should also be ready to duel, as there is a high to very high probability that someone else has spotted it too, and is now tracking you, like a mountain lion would it's prey, just waiting to snatch it up at the last second, leaving you back at square one. And don't for a moment think that someone will respect that turning signal indicating you are parking there - it is every man for himself.
Let's now assume that someone had enough basic respect to stop their vehicle, and allow you to cross safely at the crosswalk, designated mall entrance. After a few near-fatal misses, you have now reached what I like to refer to as the pinnacle of Hell. This my friends is where the battle ups it's ante, and the blood-lust begins. Everywhere you look, there are people - and not just people, but MASSES of people. People with children, people who live in retirement homes and move slower than a snail, people who are also letting the holiday stress get the better of them and having public disputes with their loved ones, who are equally stressed by this holiday shopping experience. When you walk into any given store, your mission is no longer just to make it out with "only what you NEED to buy", it is now to try and locate what you need, purchase it, and do so without taking out a few people along the way. Everyone has bags upon bags, and yet no one seems to be aware of this - anytime you try to make your way through a crowded aisle to get to whatever you need, you risk an eye because no one can keep the bags down low, at their sides, the way one should. To add to the stress, there are always a strict minimum of five children throwing various tantrums, screaming, crying and running between your legs out of control as you try to dodge the aforementioned mags. And then, just when you think you have finally done it, you reach for that item you so desperately seek, and someone gets to it before you do, snatching it right up from under your hands.
Feeling mainly defeated, but still slightly hopeful, you attempt to locate a store employee. Let's take another moment to remember that this holiday shopping period stresses out everyone, including the store employees. When you finally manage to locate one, you enter a 15 minute queue - not ideal, but you do want that thing you went to the store for. After a seemingly never ending wait, it is finally your turn! You explain to said employee what your situation is, and kindly ask "Was that the last one, or perhaps do you have another in the back somewhere?". The response you often get "Well if there's none left on the shelf, I guess there's none left!", often accompanied by one of those smug looks like he/she is just soooooo much smarter than you. Well, if you were smart, you would do your job - this means instead of giving me attitude, you would walk yourself into the back-store and check, I won't even know if you actually checked, but I will smile and say thanks even if you humoured me and only pretended to check, or at least offered to check another store location, or order it - anything really.
That scenario I just mentioned, it's a little like washing and rinsing your hair - repeat. in. every. store. After this long day of attempted (perhaps even successful) shopping, one last obstacle stands between you and home base, aka, your home. The damn parking lot - again. Remember everything I wrote about that parking lot earlier, well now, consider this - there is a good chance everyone has had the same general kind of day you have, so there is an even better chance that they are now just as irate with everyone around them as you are. This means that people have even less respect for you, your space, your car, and the obvious crosswalk you are so carefully and frightfully trying to traverse. As you finally reach your car, you can only hope that buddy who was parked thisclose to you before didn't leave a nice dent, and breathe a sigh of relief when you find your vehicle intact. As the cars slowly crawl out of the parking lot, you hear horns honking, see people (maybe even me!) swearing in their cars at the idiots in front of them and a few people are even kind enough to utilize sign-language, letting other motorists know exactly how they feel about them.
Listen up folks - I don't like most people in general society. I don't. And it isn't because I am not a people person, it is because of scenarios like these. No one seems to realize that the world's population is on the rise, and as such, it means you need to be more aware of your surroundings. It means you need to have respect for people's personal space, and throw out an apology once in awhile if you invade it. It means you have to understand that you are not the only person that is frustrated, but that yelling won't get you any further. It means you have to try to keep your cool even when you are about to lose your shit, it means you need to be the bigger person. Respect is a tough game - it is much easier to let your emotions get the better of you, and it is easy, especially during the holidays, to make yourself #1 and push others to the wayside. Let this holiday shopping season be a season of change - take a deep breath, and ask yourself - is this how I want to be treated? If you answer no, then remember that - keep yourself in check when you find yourself in one of these less than ideal situations, respect others and their space, and they might just do the same...But "might" is the operative word.
-Milie B.
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