Will This be in the Blog?

Back when I wrote on my blog every day, sometimes multiple times in a day, one of my favorite/most annoying questions was, "Are you going to write about this? Will this be in the blog?" I would usually scoff, sigh and little bit, and reassure whoever asked that contrary to popular belief, I don't post a minute-by-minute detail of my life and my thoughts on the Internet.

Then I thought, well, that would be fun. Because I am a sick blogger. I just goaded my friend Dee into writing a blog post about her new baby because I'm sick. She told me to back off which I respected because the sickness has not yet spread to my conscious. I'm only mildly ill. Anyways, I digress.

Since I can't talk about my actual work interactions or the name of where I work or even that I am affiliated in anyway with this company that may or may not be in finance (because the Lord knows, when my Compliance officer googled me, I thanked a deep sigh of relief because: 1) I don't blog about work and 2) My blog did not come up on the google search). (As a second parenthetical aside, who google searches someone while they are on the phone with them? It was like being in a weird game show with the announcer droning on, "Ladies and gentleman, let's see how many sites Google will take us to NOOOWWW with our finance professional!! Of course, I googled myself simultaneously to their google, so at least I wasn't completely surprised).

Jeez, that was such a long aside that I had to go to a new paragraph to distance myself from it. I clearly can't go by minute by minute because that would take too long and have to include horrible minutes where I picked my nose or pulled my undies down. It would be unpleasant for all of us. Here is what an hour-by-hour look at what tomorrow holds for me, with some minutes thrown in to make it spicier:

11pm - 6:30am - Sleep!

6:30am - 6:45am - Shower

6:45am - 7:20am - "Zac, stop playing around. I'm serious. We are running late. Are your socks on? What do you mean you only have one sock on? Where did the other sock go? Your Nintendo DS is in your bag. Yes, I'm sure it is fully charged. Can you please put your other sock on before I lose my mind. Hurry!!! I see the bus up the street.

7:20am - 7:40am - Get ready for work

7:40am - 8am - "Commute" to work. It only takes 20 minutes because of all the stop lights and traffic. It could be under 10 if I had a straight shot to my building.

8am - 9am - Read online news, figure out who I'm going to be calling, figure out who I called yesterday, catch up on any administrative tasks that I didn't do the day before because I got tired.

9am - 11am - Call as many strangers "cold call" or semi-strangers "warm call" as I possibly can. That can range anywhere from 40 to 150 dials.

11am - Leave for lunch seminar. Begin freaking out that no one will come to said lunch seminar.

12pm - 1pm - lunch seminar

1:30pm - 2:30pm - Finish the on-site administrative paperwork for the seminar and drive back to my suburb.

3pm - 5pm - Call as many cold and warm strangers as I can. Return phone calls from while I was out of the office. Check e-mail.

5pm - 6pm - Meet with a prospective client

6:15pm - Leave for home

6:35pm - 8:30pm - Hang out with Zac, even if he would rather play computer games than talk to me.

9pm - Read

10pm - Read some more or catch up on my favorite blogs.

11pm - Sleep

I don't usually blog too much because I've become the most boring kind of workaholic imaginable and I can't even write about my work interactions or my feelings about work. I've officially used the words "blog" and "work" too many times in this post. I'm going to end it now before I start throwing around terms that google might pick up on. Good night!

Burning Bowl

I don't know how Officer Hotness and Chaps make me do it, but somehow, by some unknown, mystical force, I agree to leave my house and go somewhere other than work during weeknights. I can't really describe how much of a hermit I am Sunday-Thursday. Those are Zac's days. Those are the days that I work, eat, parent, eat, and sleep. In that order. Prior to the past month, there has been little to no deviation in that routine.

Here it is on Thursday and I've been social twice this week. Last night I went to one of the worst open mic nights that my ears have ever had to experience. Then tonight I went to Chuck E Cheese with, who else, Officer Hotness, her kiddo, my kiddo, and Chaps, who doesn't have a kid, but might as well at this point. I was there for over two hours. We saw Chuck E dance two times. Two! That big rat can shuffle like no body's business. I think Chaps was only tempted to shoot the rat once when he surprised her the first time.

We all had our own plans for Friday and Saturday night, so I suggested Sunday. Again, let me empathize. Never before in Zac's six year history on this planet have I suggested hanging out on a Sunday after 3pm. Never.

On Sunday at 5:30pm, the four of us are all to arrive at Officer Hotness' house for a Burning Bowl ceremony. You can blame google for coming up with that name. Then they looked at me. What was I going to burn? I'm pretty sure a blank look crossed my face. I started taking a mental inventory of house, scanning from room to room in my mind. Everything I could think of, I owned and had no lingering emotional attachments to anyone else. Sure, my couch has been sat on by people that have hurt me, but I can't burn my couch. I don't have papers, photographs, or mementos from relationships past that conjure up...well...anything, because they don't exist. Clicker once wrote me a letter saying how proud he was of me, but it has been lost in move and I wouldn't want to burn it anyways. He's my best friend. I have nothing, but some lingering resentment towards my MBA professors and their idea of "appropriate" reading.

It didn't even occur to me until I got home. Oh, I have some things to burn. Some things that our powerfully significant to me and shaped how I felt throughout out October, November, and most of December. Those things weren't at home, though, which is why they didn't come up in the initial registry. I keep them at work. I want to look into a bon fire and rip into tiny pieces the words that remind me of that period of self-doubt, stress, and mental instability. I let someone knock me off my game. I'm bitter that it happened, but I'm stronger now. So I'm going to burn the papers that remind of those months. Those damn months when I questioned my career choice, my choice in friends and confidantes, and myself. It's those memories that I will burn on Sunday and with my kid sitting next to me on a school night, I will be thankful to be surrounded by love and support. But mostly, it will feel just so damn good to let go.

A Heaviness

I'm not sure what is going on with me (other than my computer seems to be boycotting the "t" button on the keyboard, which is frustrating). I hate that work has such a hold over me, but as I sit in my 1980's house that was decorated by an octogenarian, I can't help but wonder if I'm going to be able to keep enjoying my shag carpeting. Everything is fleeting and I was never confident that I could stay in house. It was too tenuous, too much of a risk for a single woman with a child.

Now I don't want to get out of bed. I think, "if I stay in bed, I can stop time. I can live inside my own brain and not have to interact with anyone. I can exist". Let's be honest. This is an improvement over where I've been recently in my life - when existing seemed harder than not existing. Now I can continue as long as I'm unconscious.

Going to work in the mornings is getting harder and harder. I'm not sure what to do. Just sleep I suppose. Sleep and therapy and maybe some soft blankets and old stuffed animals.

In the Market

I've sat on this blog post for a couple of days, which must mean that I'm maturing a bit because normally I would have just let it fly on the Internet and see where everything landed. Although my job constantly reminding me about our "social media" policies where I'm forbidden to talk about work and warned against "posting overly personal information" might have something to do with this.

Let's see...what can I tell you? I broke a handful of rules at work and I thought I was going to be fired. I actually broke rules that I didn't even know were rules. That's not surprising given how highly regulated the finance industry is. I sometimes wonder if I should get approval before e-mailing. So, my boss was out of the office for a week and that entire week I was convinced that he was going to come back and fire me. I do an amazing impersonation of Chicken Little.  I'm told that I'm overly dramatic for no reason. I think it has more to do with being fired or asked to quit from more jobs than I can shake a stick at.

I actually received a written warning and I've decided to continue on at the firm where I'm working. It's a great firm and a great opportunity, but there's another problem (there always is, right? If there weren't, what on Earth would anyone blog about).

I've been at this firm for about a year. I'm starting to get comfortable at work with my coworkers, but if I've learned anything about myself it's that I have absolutely no tact or sense of foreboding. Basically, I jump before I think - in regards to everything, particularly to personal relationships. I suck and I'm shocked that anyone ever wants to be friends with me. I can't tell you how many times I've had to apologize for being myself. Here's the cycle: I get comfortable and stop faking or monitoring my actions or reactions; I stick my neck out and do something that I'll later categorize as "stupid"; I realize that it's stupid because I hurt the people around me or make them think that I don't have a lick of common sense; I apologize; I go back to faking my actions and reactions. The cycle goes on and on.

For everyone that says "just be yourself and everything will be ok" hasn't had to apologize for being themselves as much as I have. Just saying. I don't know where you learn common sense for relationships, but I'd like to. Any ideas? I'm in the market, in more ways than one.

Confused and Scared

I know that I've been really vague lately on this blog, but that has a lot to do with the reasons that I'm confused and scared right now. Personally, I'm relying on good friends and the advice of mentors. Professionally, I'm in a much different place now than I was a year ago when I started my job. I'm not sure what's next and the fear and uncertainty is keeping me up at night.

Here is what I do know: I love helping people. That's why I went to Mongolia with the Peace Corps, that's why I worked in non-profits for five years in Houston, and that's why I got into a job as a Financial Advisor. I like helping people. I'm a "fixer". If you tell me a problem, I'm going to rack my brain to come up with a solution.

Here is what else I know: I work hard. I try my best and everything I do and most of the time I'm successful. Sometimes, I fail miserably. I wonder what period I'm in now. Inventors didn't become great by succeeding their first try.

I take comfort in remembering that.

Oh right

It's 7:30pm and I'm outside sitting on my new patio furniture (that have cushions and everything!), typing in the dark, waiting for Zac to get home from baseball practice. To put this mildly, I have had a bad day. I started crying on the way home while talking to Clicker as he was getting ready to go network with airplane pilots and enthusiasts. I, meanwhile, am thinking about how nice these chairs will be when my home is foreclosed on. At least I'll have somewhere comfortable to sit on the corner underneath the freeway. Yeah...it's been that kind of day.

Here's the round-up from this weekend:

1) Got dumped
2) Got laughed out
3) Got bitched out by a husband because his wife yelled at him
4) Worried that I was being treated differently because of who I want to date
5) Tried unsuccessfully to recruit 50 or so people into my networking group so I can rejoin.
6) Had a massive case of paranoia hit me in waves.
7) Took my computer outside with blatant disregard of South Texas mosquitos.

So, I was dating someone. We went out five times and I'm too scared to even talk about it on my computer. I guess it doesn't matter. I liked the person and now it's over. Back to the single life, although I could really use a pep talk because coming home alone tonight was very, very tough.

When I'm not getting put through the ringer personally, I'm getting it professionally. Sometimes (well, most times) I worry that I don't have enough self-esteem to handle my job. Actually, it's the rejection at the job that revolves around the job that I worry about. Sometimes I can't even pick up the phone to dial because I can sense the rejection. As my recent history clearly indicates, I like to reject myself before others have the chance.

Now I'm home and life with the 8cc of fill in my band is challenging. I've lost 40lbs, but the amount of food I can eat is so small and I get so sick quickly. I get nervous about eating. Right now I'm really hungry, which is a recipe (pun intended) for disaster. So I have to decide: do I just stay hungry or try to eat slowly and try to not get sick?

I need a damn hug.

Heaps O'Stress

You know how sometimes people create drama? Like if there is none in their life then they go out and meet a couple of random people who show up at their house all drugged up and they end up having to call the cops, but not before someone's ex shows up and threatens to beat up everyone? I've never done that or even come close, but I'm starting to wonder if I may have a similar tendencies.

I just finished my masters program. Life should be simpler, easier - but it's not. I work more, for starters. Every week I put in about 50 hours, sometimes more depending on how much I network and if it's at night or early in the morning. I got a house that scares the crap out of me. I actually asked my boss today if I could get a second job to help afford this place, but I was told no. My firm interprets FINRA rules to say that advisors can't earn income anywhere outside of the firm. I guess I can understand that you don't really want someone to solicit your business if they are ringing you up at Pier One on the weekends, but still.


So, that sucks. Every budget in the world can't make someone feel more confident when they can see disaster on the horizon. The irony  that I'm a Financial Advisor does not escape me. Don't worry, I feel properly humbled.
 
There is just something wrong. Most of the time I can't even put my finger on it. I'm losing clumps of hair at night and in the shower, presumably from stress and/or poor nutrition. I cry a lot. I was admitted to the ER with chest pains that turned out to be no form of cardiac event that any test could detect. I've seen specialists. I've asked about my hormones and vitamins. I'm on a "wait and see" regimen with all of them. It's frustrating. I'm a do-er and I get the distinct feeling that I'm doing something wrong or even just merely not doing something right.

and don't even get me started on dating. and the dog that keeps eating my high heels, even when I put them in my room and "close" the door (note to self: figure out a way to lock the master bedroom from the outside). The dog also constantly chases the cat in a carnival rendition of the "Farmer and the Dell" every hour that they are both awake. and I never expected that living in double the space would make my life feel more empty.

hmm...that's something to think about. Thanks for letting me have this, albeit, one-sided conversation. I feel a little bit better now.

The Eyes Have It

Hmm...I’m not even sure what happens when I step away from the computer that long. I swear it feels like I just updated, but then I check and see that it’s been two weeks. I’ve learned some important lessons during that time:

 

• I have to always chew my food completely before I swallow. This sounds self-evident, but once you realize how much food you swallow only partially chewed, you’ll see why this was such a big lesson to learn. My little, un-filled band opening can only tolerate so much food before food backs up directly in my esophagus, somewhere in my chest. It does feel a little like what I imagine a heart attack might feel like, only there is also queasiness involved. Also, there is a lot of grabbing of my chest and gulping down air feeling like I’m being quickly suffocated under the pressure of my food

• Passing a Group 1 life, accident, and health exam does not mean that a person suddenly has a license to sell insurance or variable annuities. It means that I passed the exam. The license is applied for separately.

• I’m really slow when it comes to cold-calling businesses and individuals. Even when I try to be fast, I only get about 35 calls made before I start to wonder if I should be calling at a different time. Like Saturday. Maybe I should quit school with one module left and just cold call all-day Saturday and not go into the office on Mondays, Wednesdays, or Fridays. Just a thought.

• I think I’ve lost 10lbs of water weight since there is no super noticeable difference in the way my clothes fit. 

• I can’t stress how important it is to get a regular eye exam, especially if you are overweight. See below for more details.

 

Those are the primary lessons that I’ve learned. In reference to #4, I went to my optometrist after a blurry spot developed in my vision in class on March 5th. I had been having horrible, horrible headaches with pain radiating from my eyes and had talked to Aunt Jen about headaches related to hypertension. She said basically that they would be the worst headaches of my life and most likely I’d stroke out before I had time to complain about how bad my head was hurting. She’s comforting, that one. Her vast knowledge of medical conditions and symptoms just makes her a little bit of downer sometimes.

 

So, I was at the optometrist and she says that my eyes are dry, but even more concerning to her, she sees visible damage to my optic nerves. Then she told me to not go back to work for the day and go immediately to the optomologist she was recommending for me. I went and had a battery of eye tests done, including dilation and vision field. The doc came in and discussed my results. There was a circle of occlusion around my left eye and large swaths of blindness in my right eye, around the periphery, where I couldn’t correctly see the small, blinking white light. Then he showed me the optomap picture of my inner eye. It turns out that optic discs are supposed to look clear, relatively flat, with well-defined margins. My optic discs look….freakish. Just imagine holding onto a balloon in the middle. Then squeeze your hand. See how the top of the balloon puffs out from the air pressure? Now imagine that happening in the back of your eyes.

 

He explained that the lack of blood into my optic nerve and blood vessels around my optic disc hemorrhaging were causing my headaches and blurry vision. The medical profession has come up with a great term to describe this phenomenon. It’s “pseudotumor cerebri” . Pseudotumors have symptoms like a tumor, without actually having a tumor. These symptoms include: headaches (check), blurred vision (check),and increased intracranial pressure (check and check). But then he said he had to rule out an actual tumor and he continued the doctor shuffle to a neurologist.

 

The next day, the neurologist confirmed the previous two doctors’ findings and ordered a MRI and MRV. He also put me on acetazolamide to reduce the pressure in my spinal fluid by getting rid of excess water. Side effects include: increased urination (check), bad taste to carbonated beverages (check – I’ve finally had to reduce and occasionally eliminate Diet Coke and beer), and tingling in outer extremities, like hands and feet (check). He said, and the U.S. National Library of Medicine concurs, that the condition occurs most often in obese, premenopausal women. My acne medication - minocycline - also has increased intracranial pressure as a possible side effect. I've stopped the medication, but haven't seen any improvement in my vision. Sometimes there is no known cause and the only treatment is to lose weight.

 

MRI and MRV were normal. My spinal tap to check for infection in my spinal fluid and to monitor my spinal pressure is being scheduled now. Cross your fingers for the best.

 

Series 66

No, I have no idea why it's called that either. All I know is that when I got hired onto my company in late October 2010, I knew that I would have 90 days to pass the Series 7 and the Series 66 examinations. Series 7 is a 250-question, five hour test with an hour break in the middle. It's over federal law and the test designers seem fixated on options and municipal bonds. I was told point-blank by one of my coworkers in the office that if a client ever asks about the underwriting of a municipal bond, that I should fire them as a client. No joke. Basically, once you pass the tests, you aren't really required to retain the information, especially since most of the public will have no idea what you are talking about if you start mentioning bear straddles or naked puts. It kind of sounds like both of those should be done in private, no?

The Series 66 tests your knowledge of state laws, without actually being specific to any one state. The State Administrator, who is a shadowy figure at best in the study materials, can require that an investment advisor representative (aka: me, known as a broker or financial advisor in most circles) take the test before they can trade securities in any state. You can see why taking just the Series 7 would be problematic then. I suppose I could sell securities in Puerto Rico or Guam, but since I'm not planning on leaving one of the 50 states anytime soon, I also had to take the Series 66. I like living in a state. States are good.

The actual test is 100 questions long and they give you two-and-a-half hours to complete it. I found that I either know the answer to the question or don't. 99% of the questions on the Series 66 don't involve math so it's basic problem solving and memory recall. Does the State Administrator have this power? What about this one? If we blindfolded the State Administrator and put him in a room with three issuers of corporate securities, a rabbi, and two investment advisors, what do you think would happen? That sort of thing.

There was a couple hard questions that I'm kicking myself for not knowing, mostly because I feel like after 18 months in a MBA program I should have known them. I had to completely guess on how to find the alpha of a stock when given the stock's beta and the expected return. Uhh...6.8? Yeah, that's what I went with too. Then there was a question about the minimum value of an investment needed to fund a monthly stipend of $1,000 in perpetuity with an expected 3% rate of return. There wasn't enough information to do present value calculations since I didn't have the risk free rate so I just started doing some math long-hand with my calculator. It was only after I submitted my test that I realized I had assumed a 3% MONTHLY rate (or 12% annually,  which is huge if you imagine getting that rate of return forever) instead of a 3% ANNUAL return (or .03/12 monthly, which is much more reasonable). I think I've actually had this question in one of my finance courses and I'm pretty sure I got it wrong then too. Fortunately, most people think about college tuition or retirement in terms of an annual amount of money. I'll leave the calculations on monthly cash flow streams to annuity providers. They have charts and everything.

Today also coincides with Day 1 of my liquid diet. I had some eggs this morning because I didn't want to feel sleepy during my test. I had a protein shake for lunch and I'm about ready to go have another. The commercial that got me today while I was watching tv was for an Italian restaurant, but I managed to stay out of the kitchen, although I'm back to feeling hungry and a little stabby right now.

13 more days of this. Really?!?

T-1

The next big, "pass or you're fired" test is tomorrow at 8am. I was going to study more tonight for Erika, but I fell asleep and then my Dad called four times to wake me up. Good news - I'm up. Bad news - I didn't study any more.

Here's hoping that Houston doesn't close down the freeways tomorrow. Fingers crossed for me!

The Rule of 5 and 3

The only thing blander than my posts about a pair of fat shoes (which I need to return to the store) and my impending liquid diet has to be my geekdom enjoying studying all things financial in the world of legal finance.

 

Under the Uniform Securities Act (USA for short – yes, really), the statue of limitations for criminal penalties is five years, the maximum fine is $5,000, and maximum sentence for prison is 3 years. 5-5-3. For civil penalties, the statue of limitation is either two years from the discovery of the offense or 3 years after the act occurred. 2-3. The fines are worse on the civil side. Under the Securities Act of 1933 (more three’s), a person that purchased a security based on a false or misleading statement of a material fact or omission can sue:

 

• Every person that signed the registration form
• All directors of the security issuer
• All their attorneys
• And their accountants (although presumably not your attorney’s accountants. Probably just the security issuer’s accountants)
• The appraisers
• The underwriters
• A parent company
• AND Everyone and their Mom for your court fees, attorney fees, and the cost of the security OR the current market value of the security, whichever is greater.

Here is what I learned today: Crime pays. Committing fraud doesn’t. As long as you don’t mind three years in a federal minimum security prison (and really, your sentence will most likely be reduced if you are a high-profile criminal like Martha Stewart on her insider trading charge), $5000 penalty, and the revocation of your securities license from here into eternity, a criminal charge is the way to go. Basically, make sure the profit from your crime is large enough to sustain you after you get out of prison, and after the civil litigation which will almost certainly ensue, because you most likely won’t be able to get a job and the talk show circuit only pays so much. Just keep that in mind That’s the rule of 5 and 3.

 

 

 

I Heart My New Job

I just past the three-month mark at my new job in late January. Basically, all I’ve done in the past three months is read, attend lectures and presentations, attend more presentations, wonder why all variable annuity wholesales seem to be talking in code and wonder if they make sense to each other, take a licensing exam (which I passed!), and read some more. That being said, I’m in love with the freedom and benefits of my new job. It also doesn’t hurt that I’m interested in personal finance and have been exposed to many of the concepts I’m learning through my MBA course.

 

In random order, here are some of the things I heart about my new job:

•  Learning all sorts of things about the financial industry through reading The Wall Street Journal and study materials for my licensing exams. The financial nugget I learned today is regarding IRS taxation. The IRS loves symmetry. For example, you have to wait 9 months after conception of a child to claim the child as a dependent on your tax returns. Basically, anyone inutero is considered property of Mom (or more accurately, part of Mom) according to the IRS. On the other end of the life spectrum, you have 9 months after the date of someone’s death to pay their estate taxes. Estates are only taxed on property or assets AFTER your funeral costs, debt obligations, and marital and charitable deductions. Provided you aren’t married, this gives your beneficiaries a really good excuse to throw you a $20,000 funeral and spring for the mahogany casket to avoid some tax liabilities. Just saying. Your funeral could be the best party that anyone has ever thrown for you. You also might make that case for the day of your birth. There is some symmetry here.

• I work in a suburb now, so I can go to the mall or shopping centers during lunch and never worry about parking. This is such a dramatic change from my working career on the East side of Houston, where even policemen patrol in pairs. I went shoe shopping at lunch today after receiving my first, full child support payment since August (and yes, I realize that makes all payers of child support – FOBs – want to hit someone. I can almost hear the single, divorced Dads screaming: “Child support is to benefit a CHIILD!” Yeah, well I’ve benefited a child for the past six years with little help, so maybe cut me some slack). I went and got my foot measured at the store that Erika, the other female broker in my office, recommended. I am a perfect 8 ½ wide. The salesman went into the back and come out with no less than 7 pairs of shoes for me to try on. I chose a sleek, fitted pair of heels that don’t make me want to hurt someone. All that I was back to my office in under an hour.

• Bariatric over rider on company health insurance. Seriously. Can I get a Amen? Cash rates for lap band run anywhere from $9,900 (not including lab fees for pre-surgical testing) to over $18,000. I have to pay my deductible and up to the annual maximum of co-insurance. Let’s just keep this between us, but I have something/someone called a bariatric care consultant because I work for such a large company. 

• I can also go and get a massage and go to the chiropractor at lunch.

• My commute is 15-minutes when I hit the traffic lights. It’s about 10-12 minutes when the lights are green. That’s added an hour and a half onto my day that I’m not spending commuting.

• Getting paid to read and take tests for three months.

• Free food at lunch twice a week and most afternoon presentations. Occasional free alcohol at happy hours that are sponsored by wholesalers.

If there is some line between grateful and bragging, I hope I've managed to stay on the grateful side. Of course there are negatives, but I'm looking on the positive side.

 

 

Well....There is That

Thank you for the support from my last blog post. It was a very difficult time, but I'm hoping that I've turned a corner. I worked with one of my former teammates from school, which made work incredibly uncomfortable. I also found out that I wasn't qualified for a management training program at work, so I started looking for a new job. I went to a two-day career fair at my University and met a guy talking about the brokerage industry that was a Tulane alum. I walked up to him after his talk and we started talking. He called me the next week and we continued our conversation. I sent him my resume and cover letter. Later that week I was asked to come in for a math/finance/economics test and completed a personality test online. Then I was asked to come in for an interview. Then I went in for a second interview at a branch office that is 3 miles from where I live.

....and....I got the job. I know, I was more surprised than anyone. I know work as a Financial Advisor trainee at one of the largest retail brokerage houses in the US. I was accepted into their three-year training program. I quit my old job, took a day off, and started my new job on Friday.

It's all happened so fast. It feels like just last week I wrote my last post about barely making it through each day at work. Now I'm studying for my Series 7 and 66 brokerage and insurance exams and buying business suits. It's a little bit Alice in Wonderland and it hasn't completely sunk in yet. It's hard for me to really believe that my life has taken such a good turn. I'm hesitant to scream, "Woo hoo!" because I still have the same medical challenges that I've had for the past seven years. It's still easier for me to fall asleep than stay awake. But wow...what a difference a month can make.

Crash(es)

I'm not sure how so much time has passed since I last blogged. There has just been a lot going on. I'm finishing up my first month here at my new job. To finish the story from the previous post, I received a verbal warning for showing up late to the Houston branch and not calling into my corporate managers (although I did call in, immediately, to the branch itself, but apparently I didn't follow correct protocol by letting everyone know at corporate). The warning was then written down on paper and signed by my boss. I had the option of also signing the paper and having it put in my H.R. file or writing a rebuttal letter, but I chose the easiest option and just accepted the letter, as it was, and filed it for myself.

What's even more disturbing than a written, verbal writing within the first month of my job has been what's been going on while driving to work. I've been in three accidents in two weeks. There, I said it. All of them have been my fault and all of them have occurred on my way to work in the morning. With the first accident, I simply looked down at my phone and rear-ended the person in front of me. There was minimal damage to the hood and license plate that I took to a body shop and had repaired that day. Accident #2 occurred just three days later. The roads were wet from rain and I was driving too fast for the gridlock of Houston rush hour traffic. The car in front of me stopped and I slammed on my brakes and skidded into him. Since I was braking so hard, the front of my car actually went under the bumper of the car in front of me. The hood damage that I had repaired was compounded into a wrinkly mess of metal and red paint transfer on the front of my car.

Accident #3 was by far the scariest. I was driving to San Antonio for work. It's about a three-and-a-half hour drive each way. I was only a mile or so from my exit, doing about 75 mph in a 70 mph speed zone on a two-lane stretch of highway outside San Antonio. I looked into the passenger seat for the notebook that I had written my directions on and my car drifted into the gravel on the left-hand side of the road. I overcompensated by turning the wheel sharply to the right and braking hard. The car went into a spin. I crossed over the right-hand lane and ended up traveling in the wrong direction on the westbound freeway. My car slammed into a curb, exploding the wheel, causing the back tire on the driver's side to go flat. Thankfully, no one was in the right-hand lane when I went over and all the cars stopped or went around me. A Good Samaritan and his son put on the car's donut, which was barely drivable. I turned on the flashers and drove 20 mph to the San Antonio branch.

I was going to have the car towed to a tire dealership where I could get a wheel and a tire put on, but apparently one of the advantages for working for a distribution company that has a lot of transportation equipment is deals with guys that will come to the facility for basic repair and maintenance. By 4pm that day, I paid a guy $100 to put on a steel wheel and used tire in the branch parking lot. I was on my way home by 5:30pm, very slowly this time. The car's alignment was pulling hard to the right and there was a strange burning smell. I made it home and the car went into the body shop for the damage sustained during Accident #2 and #3.

I wish I knew what it all meant. On Monday night I couldn't sleep. My mind wouldn't stop racing thinking about what could have happened had there been another car in the right-hand lane or if I had a head-on collision with another car while I was traveling in the wrong direction. I had risked my own life and the life of strangers traveling on the same road. I called a crisis center. The woman that finally answered, after putting me on hold for ten minutes, thinks that I'm possibly trying to sabotage my new job. She said I should give myself the freedom to look for another job if I continue to get in accidents and have such a high level of stress that I could possibly become distracted doing daily tasks, like driving.

There is something to be said about managing my stress better. I feel like I'm finally getting into a new routine and getting used to my hour long commute, although some days are better than others. I am still exhausted by the end of the week and my school work has been suffering. I limped my way through the past module and am having a hard time completing the final take home exam for my marketing class. I'm trying to not to beat myself up about it, just realizing how high my stress level is right now. That's just easier said than done.

And Then There Are Days

Where you are probably better off staying in bed. Contrary to appearances to the contrary, I actually try pretty hard to be a professional, put together young woman that is a shining representative of her company. Then there is reality. I was tired when I woke up today and decided that once my Dad got Zac off to school that I would go back to sleep...just five minutes I rationalized. Except I can never sleep just five minutes. An hour later I woke up in a panic and raced out of the house. Guess what I forgot to take? If you guessed the medication that helps me avoid falling asleep while driving, you'd be correct. I realized this error about half way through a tour of a box factory when I couldn't keep my eyes open.

So besides showing up late, I feel asleep sitting up while watching a purchaser work her magic on the computer. Basically, I've been worthless today. Worse than worthless, bordering on an embarassing liability for the corporate office. I'm at the branch office this week and somehow can't seem to find the words: "I'm off my meds today" to describe my erratic behavior.

I have more to write about my new job, new school for Zac, and new commute for me, but I'll save that for a time when I have access to a keyboard bigger than my thumb. Wish me better luck tomorrow. I need it if I'm going to keep this job.

The Job

About three months ago I started looking for a new job. I didn't tell many people about it, but I had a growing feeling that I wasn't going to be successfull professionally or personally at my current job. There are many reasons that I don't want to go too far into on here. The good news is that I found a new job and have given notice at my old job. My last day of work as a Grants Manager of social service non-profit in East Houston will be Wednesday, January 20th. I have two floating holidays that I don't get paid for, so I'm taking those on Thursday and Friday.

Now the drama with the new job is that I was recommended for it by a woman on my team in grad school. She reads this blog and my team has decided that I should refer to her as "Sunshine" from here on out. After my post on duality, I was terrified that Sunshine would regret recommending me for a position on her team. After all, didn't she have some kind of duty to tell her employer that they were considering hiring a crazy woman? Fortunately, Sunshine didn't do that and my fears and worries were for nothing.

I have four more working days to wrap up my job as a Grants Manager. It feels almost overwhelming when I think of all the deadlines that I have to communicate to people and all the final projects I need to wrap up. Everytime I do some menial, administrative task I think: "And that will be the last batch of thank you letters that I need to write and get my boss to sign" or "This is the last time I'll have to go through this contract." It's kind of beautiful really, just a bit tiring.

At my new job, I'll be working with Sunshine and four other people on a team as a Project Manager for a corporation. The business has about 1,000 employees and 50 branch and satellite offices in the U.S., Mexico, and Canada. It's my first corporate job and I was officially welcomed to the team with a tour of the office that included the refrigerator full of soda that is stocked by someone in the office for everyone to drink and hot water in the bathroom. I have to confess: I've been washing my hands in the bathroom in cold water for two-and-a-half years because my non-profit doesn't have hot water. I can't wait to leave that behind.

In honor of the occasion, I've made a list of everything that I won't miss at my current job:

1. Incredibly loud pages in English and Spanish over the phone system for someone to move their car out of the loading only zone.
2. Feeling like I'm constantly in college during finals with all the papers I have to write and submit by their deadlines.
3. My coworkers switching from English to Spanish when I walk in the room so they can discuss the workings of the photocopier in "private".
4. Being called the white girl
5. Reporting on everything I do and am working on a regular basis to my boss.
6. Constantly worrying about if the agency is going to have enough money to stay open.
7. Being blamed for the agency not having enough money because I didn't write enough grants.
8. Feeling like my work was never good enough.

I think that about sums it up. Am I nervous about my new job? Definitely. The former direct supervisor (it's a long story) that interviewed me says he considers the team I'm joining some of the best and brightest minds at the company. He uses them to solve problems and smooth out relationships between distributors and suppliers. It's a totally new field, but I'm excited about learning something new and moving on from my current position.

Did I mention that the job comes with all the Diet Coke I can drink? How could I not be excited?

Endurance

Somewhere between 6:45pm and 7:00pm last night, I hit the wall. My eyes could barely stay open and I was pretty sure that any stemware that stood between me and a chair would be broken on my way down off the step ladder. Normally, I wouldn't be around large quantities of fragile items, but yesterday was my second day at my second job.

Getting a second job sounded like a good idea. I would just work a couple of extra hours around the holiday to pay for unexpected expenses (like a $450 a/c repair on a car that has already had its a/c system repaired three separate times). I also wanted to pay down debt that has been mounting up lately (see unexpected car repairs and root canals). With those lofty goals, I reapplied at a Pier 1 store close to where my parents live. I worked at a Pier 1 store in New Hampshire. Apparently it is a disastrous combination to mix hormonal women and household decor: no less than five of us got pregnant within four months. I found out that I was pregnant with Zac within weeks of another associate finding out that she was pregnant with twins. It was baby mania accented with the smell of lavender room mist spray.

Fast forward four years and I'm back working at Pier 1. Oddly enough, inflation has had the opposite effect on salaries for sales associates. I'm told that the phrase, "cost of living" doesn't really exist in Texas. It's more for Yankees and their delicate sensibilities than for people living extremely close to large forces of nature, like category 3 hurricanes. You just have to suck it up and put your plywood purchases on a credit card down here.

Anyways, I've worked a lot of long hours at my primary job this past year. One of the reasons that I got a second job was because I knew that it would force me to balance out my life. I couldn't work 12-15 hours at the job because I would have to leave and work 4 hours at another job.

Something happened along the way, though. Somehow I forgot about the wall that long-distance runners hit when their glucose levels dip too low and they feel like they want to lay down and cry. I hit the wall. I couldn't wait until 10pm to eat. I felt like an out-of-shape runner trying to do a 10k. I don't have the same endurance that I did when I worked two jobs in New Hampshire. I require more sleep now and certainly more daily calories than before. While eyeing the red tile under a breakfast table for a cozy spot to lay my head, I thought, "I need to start training for this. I need protein snacks and shot of glucose every 3-4 hours. I need more water and maybe Gatorade. Maybe then I'll be able to make it until 10pm without breaking three wine glasses and a ceramic vase."