Marty Nemko's Blog, page 418

Susan's Saga: an unvarnished look at work today. Episode 9: Procrastinating

[image error] The Sapian Family Saga Part II: Susan's Saga  Episode 9: Procrastinating
In the previous episode, a claim by a student's parent that Susan had created a hostile environment toward gays was found baseless. But disgusted by the unfair inquisition, Susan then quit. 

But now what?

That job had fallen into her lap, the result of her volunteering. But now she needed to find a job, with no time for additional months of volunteering and schmoozing in hopes it will lead to something. 

She dreaded having to look for a job:

No matter how she carefully she crafted her resume, if honest, it would unlikely be top-of-the-stack for any job, even a menial one. She felt she needed all her ducks in a row but had few ducks, in a row or otherwise. 

She found the networking game distasteful. She was, for example, repulsed at using social media for leads, for example, retweeting someone's posts not because they were so wonderful but because it makes the person more likely to tout you. As a result, judgments are made not on merit but on scheming.  She didn't mind getting together with her close friends but they'd be unlikely to have a useful job lead.  

Cold-calling target employers is a surprisingly effective job-search strategy but Susan was shy even about stopping someone on the street for directions. The thought of bothering employers not advertising a job and pitching herself felt anathema. That was especially so because she felt she brought little to the table, basically saying, "I'm not great but would you hire me anyway?"

Nor did she feel good about requesting an informational interview. Even if she told the employer she wasn't expecting a job from him or her, she feared it would be perceived as a ploy to access an employer, like cutting in line at a movie theater whose performance will be sold out. 

Even answering ads--the least offensive of the job-search methods--felt onerous. She knows that many people carefully answer dozens of ads and usually don't even get the courtesy of a rejection--silence is today's rejection letter. And reports of hundreds of applications even for jobs at Wal-Mart could make anyone procrastinate. 

And indeed procrastination had been Susan's career cancer, indeed life cancer. So often she knew what she should do but couldn't make herself do it. She'd rationalize that she'd feel more like doing it tomorrow but too rarely did. Even though she was well aware that the short-term pain of doing the task would be outweighed by the long-term benefit, she rarely could get comfortable being uncomfortable.

She did step-up the Excel tutoring sessions with Ben. That would add a duck to her row. 

One day, Ben asked her how her job search is going. When she tepidly answered, "Okay," Ben said, "It's easy to put off looking for a job. Part of my tutoring service is being a loving taskmaster."

The word she mainly heard was "loving." She thought, "That doesn't sound like what a guy with a girlfriend would say. Maybe they broke up?" But after being rebuffed when she invited him to dinner, she'd keep those thoughts to herself. "Okay, loving taskmaster, what should I do?"

"Obviously, you have to break the job search into baby steps. Write it on a whiteboard or something. Then, every time you get an item done, erase it or put a check-mark next to it. When you're tempted to procrastinate, picture how you'd benefit if you landed a good job...

"Like be proud of myself. Be able to afford stuff." 

"And what could happen if you did procrastinate."

"Be a bag lady."

"I doubt that would happen but...

"I have a hard time getting started."

"Maybe be more conscious of that moment of truth, that moment you're deciding, usually unconsciously, whether to do the task or do something fun."

"The problem is it all seems so enormous, trying to land a job."

"Might it help to ask yourself, "What's my next one-second task?" That's a friendly, unintimidating amount of time."

"Like even turn on the computer."

"Yup. Even that can get you started. Then ask yourself, "What's my next one-second task?"

"And then I'm an object in motion, which tends to stay in motion."

"Right."

"I really procrastinate when I reach a hard part." 

"Maybe you should struggle with a hard part for just a minute or so. If you haven't made progress by then, chances are that more struggling won't help. It'll just make the process odious and you'll want to procrastinate more."

"So what do I do when I reach a roadblock I can't make progress on in one minute?"

"Either figure you can let it go and work on something else, or if you can't, call someone to get help. Even me." 

Susan didn't want to jump on that lest she reveal her feelings about him but she didn't want to ignore it either so she said, "I worry I won't stay on track."

"How about this? Every night, you make a list of what you hope to accomplish tomorrow and email to me. I'll make a point of checking my email every night before I go to bed."

That sounded sexier than if he offered to check in the morning. "Was he flirting?" she wondered. And she got her answer. 

"Susan, is your offer to make dinner still good?"

"Still good."

"Would it help if we don't schedule it until you feel you've made good progress in your job search?"

She thought, "That will motivate me more than all those procrastination tips." But all she said was, "Okay." 

The next episode is HERE.

Susan's Saga: An unvarnished look at work today. Episode 8: A Hostile Environment

The Sapian Family Saga Part II: Susan's Saga  Episode 8: 
A Hostile Environment
In the previous episode, Susan's volunteering at King Middle School paid off: She got a six-month contract to fill in for the school's attendance officer.

On her first day, she arrived early, both to check out her room before the school day's chaos began and because she wanted to go into the teacher's room, that inner sanctum she had never penetrated except when, as a child, Susan's teacher told her to bring in her coffee cup from the classroom. 

After congratulating Susan, the teachers settled in to their usual talk, which often pitted the idealists against the burnouts. The idealists, for example, were excited about the latest innovation: The Common Core Standards, which would establish high standards for all kids: "High expectations are so important!" In contrast, the burnouts had been through many cycles of innovations du jour: hope followed by a disappointing reality followed by the next innovation du jour. This morning, one burnout read from the 6th grade math standards: 

Apply the properties of operations to generate equivalent expressions. For example, apply the distributive property to the expression 3 (2 + x) to produce the equivalent expression 6 + 3x; apply the distributive property to the expression  24x + 18y to produce the equivalent expression 6 (4x + 3y); apply properties of operations to y + y + y to produce the equivalent expression 3y. "

The burnout's punchline: "You really believe the best use of our time, of our kids' time, is to teach them 1,000 standards like this?"

Ms. Wright had been through many such cycles and at a staff meeting cynically took the middle ground: "I'll support you when you want to adopt the new program and I'll support you when you're ready to drop it."
 
For Susan's first three months as attendance officer, everything went fine. She was able to track down more truants than did her predecessor, who had been doing it for years. 

Then one day after school, Ms. Wright came to Susan's room:

"Susan, the mother of one of the student assistants claim you have created a hostile environment for gays."  

"What?! Who?!



"Dana."

"What? I can't believe it. He kept asking for days off for no good reason and after a while I kept saying no. I'll bet he went to his mother and made up that hostile-environment stuff so he could get his days off."

"Susan, whenever an accusation is made related to race, gender, or sexual orientation, I'm required by law to conduct a thorough investigation. You might want to contact the union lawyer. And our lawyer advised that it's safest if we suspend you---with pay, don't worry--until the investigation is concluded."

Susan was so offended. "I'm not at all anti-gay. I did absolutely nothing anti-gay. And now I have to endure this?!  For nothing?!" Still, she felt scared.

Two months and three depositions later and still no feedback. Susan was really scared now. "If they were finding me innocent, Ms. Wright would be saying things like, "Don't worry, it's just a formality." But nothing. 

Finally, she received a terse letter, "Dear Ms. Sapian, the investigative panel found you not-guilty of any wrongdoing. You may resume your position at your earliest convenience. Thank you for your patience in this matter." 

She was relieved but incredulous at it all. And she was embarrassed because she was pretty sure all the teachers knew about it and assumed she must have done something: "When there's smoke, there's fire." Every time a teacher would see her, she'd be thinking, "There's Susan the gay-basher."  Especially with just a few weeks left on her contract anyway, Susan decided to quit.


Ms. Wright said all sorts of nice parting words but when Susan asked whether her employment reference would make any mention of the bogus claim, Wright decided to cover her legal ass: "If you agree not to file any employment claim, I'll give agree not to mention it."

Susan was again incredulous: "I deserve a great reference. You just said I deserve a great reference and now you want me to give you something so I can get what you should be gratefully giving me, especially after what you've put me through?"

This time, Susan won.

"I'm sorry, Susan. You're right. You'll get a strong reference with no mention of that claim.

"That bogus claim."

"Right, that bogus claim."

Susan couldn't resist a parting shot:

"You let that parent trigger a massive, demeaning investigation of me whom you know did nothing wrong, yet you ignore terrible, burned-out teachers who, year after year, damage kids."

"Those burned-out teachers didn't start that way. After two years, they get tenure and I can't touch them."

"You can't?"

"Not without years of remediation efforts you know won't work, documenting every little thing, and then the union's high-powered lawyers usually find some a way to get the teacher off on some technicality. It's easier to just use my time and stress where it's more likely to make a difference."

And with that, Susan walked out, again back to the starting line. Now what?

I hope to post the next episode tomorrow morning.

Susan's Saga: An unvarnished look at work today. Episode 7: Luck

The Sapian Family Saga
Part II: Susan's Saga  Episode 7: LuckIn the previous episode, Susan's bravery, this time in inviting her tutor to dinner, again didn't pay off. He had a girlfriend, he lived too far away, blah, blah, blah. 

So she was back to the starting line, except that she was enjoying her after-school volunteer gig directing Rent at that gritty middle school. Those same kids who wouldn't sit still for geometric theorems and Shakespeare's intricacies were, in rehearsal, as focused as a dog on a bone.

Alas, Susan's bad luck continued. During one of those rare moments the kids were acting up, between acts of the brush-up rehearsal before the final performance, the principal, Ms. Wright walked in.

Susan thought, "Oh my God. I'm going to get fired. Then I'll have nothing. Absolutely nothing." And when Ms. Wright said, "Would you step outside a moment, Ms. Sapian?," Susan was sure she was a goner. The principal wouldn't want to embarrass Susan in front of her students. She was going to tell Susan that today is her last day.

But sometimes only when it's darkest do we see light. When they got outside, Susan said,  "I'm so sorry Ms. Wright, they're usually quite good. I..."

Ms. Wright interrupted "Don't worry. It happens to all of us. That wasn't why I came by. You've done a great job with Rent. Very impressive with quite a tough group of kids. How'd you like a paying job? We need a attendance officer for the rest of the school year. Ours just got into a car accident and will be out until next September and I thought of you. $44,000 a year plus full benefits."

Susan couldn't help herself: She started to cry. "Yes, oh yes, Oh thank you!"

Susan thought, "So the career counselor was right! Volunteer and do a good job and you may get a job!"

"Can you start tomorrow?"  

"Yes, oh yes!"

The next episode is HERE.

Susan's Saga: An unvarnished look at work today. Episode 6: Excel

The Sapian Family Saga Part II: Susan's Saga  Episode 6: Excel
In the previous episode, Susan left her job as a clerk in a fertilizer store after just two hours. Even a $12 an hour job required a lot, including knowing how to use Excel, which she didn't. She was embarrassed and decided she'd take an Excel class.

"Should I take it online? No, I probably wouldn't finish. I like students around, the teacher there. "One of those Microsoft-approved private classes? Maybe. Expensive. They offer one at North Central Washington State U" (fictitious.) $450, not too terrible. If the instructor gets good ratings on RateMyProfessor.com, I'll sign up." Alas, the instructor was listed as TBA but Susan decided to take a chance. 

After the half-hour drive, 15 minutes to find parking, and a five-minute walk in the rain, she arrived at class, thinking, "God, I'll have to do this in reverse after class is over. Maybe the online course would have been a better idea."

She felt even more that way after class started. The professor, while unquestionably brilliant, just couldn't explain things well. For him, how to use Excel was natural, so intuitive that although he tried, he just was unable to explain it clearly enough to mere mortals who need to learn it cookbook-style."

And it wasn't just Susan. When almost half the class failed the midterm, she dropped out. 

Now what? She still wanted to learn Excel. "Maybe a tutor?" She looked in Craigslist and an ad jumped out at her: 
Kind, patient person loves tutoring beginners in all Microsoft Office applications: Word, Excel, Powerpoint, Access. I live in Moscow, ID but we can work by Skype. Don't know how to use Skype? I'll show you. It's cool. Call me. My name is Ben: 206-730-3958.Susan called him right up. And the tutoring went very well. 

While Ben was always friendly, he never really said much about himself. So one day, she took the first step: "Why do you tutor?" 

"I'm one of those software engineers who's good but not great so I can now only get project work. So every few months I have to spend a couple of months looking for my next project. Tutoring helps me pay the bills"

"Do you like project work?"

"Sort of. You're always working on something new and the adrenaline rush of deadlines can be exciting. But I always feel that, hanging over my head, if I'm not good, fast, and willing to work 14 hour days, they'll hire an H1-B immigrant or offshore my job to India...Tell me about you?"

Susan couldn't believe the next words that came out of her mouth: "Maybe we can talk about it over dinner. Would you like to come here for dinner?"

"Susan, I could make the excuse that I live four hours away but it's really that I'm still involved with someone."

The next episode is HERE.

Susan's Saga: An unvarnished look at work today. Episode 5: Chemistry

The Sapian Family Saga Part II: Susan's Saga Episode 5: Chemistry
In the previous episode, Susan joined Rotary in an attempt to find job leads. She found one and perhaps something more.

On Saturdays, not having to get Adam off to school, Susan enjoyed sleeping late and lolling with coffee and the newspaper but today, she had to get up early to get to her one-day trial as the clerk at Rory's Ag Supply. While she wanted--well she needed--to get a job, she hated having to give up the coffee and paper, especially for a $12-an-hour clerk job at a fertilizer store.

As she was driving to the store, she thought, "I can't believe I said yes. All that career counseling and identifying my skills, interests, values, and big goals and I end up saying yes to a $12-an-hour job selling fertilizer because he said I wouldn't have to do much on the computer and because he flirted with me? "David died less than three months ago, what the hell am I doing?!"

After just a bit of the flirty, smiling eye contact, which the lonely Susan couldn't help but reciprocate, Rory got down to business and explained each of the products. 

Susan thought, "My God how many fertilizers: high-nitrogen for growth, low-nitrogen later in the season for fruits and flowers, organic, inorganic, fast-release, slow-release, multi-release, with trace elements, without 'em. And then there are the chemicals: the pesticides, the fungicides, the herbicides, the fumigants, the growth regulators, the adjuvants, in sprays, powders, drenches, gases. And those names: Imazapic, 2-4 D Amine, Atrazine 4L, Metsulfutorl Methyl DF, Oxadiazon 50WSB, Prodiamine 65WDG, Sethoxydim E-Pro, Azinphosmethyl 50W, Imidacloprid 75WSB, Chlorothalonil 720SFT, Propioconaloze E-Pro14.3 MEC. It's a miracle we don't all have cancer."

Rory reassured, "Don't worry. You'll get it. Baby steps, a little at a time. Besides, you can always ask me for help." 

She thought, "Yeah, right. I'll be so embarrassed--Every time a customer asks a question, I'll have to say, 'Wait a minute?' and run back to Rory? I'll look like an idiot. I'm going to do this? For $12 an hour? And give up my coffee and newspaper Saturday mornings?

The clincher was when Rory said, "Oh and here's your computer. You'll mainly just be doing some basic spreadsheets on Excel. You do know a little Excel don't you?"

"I thought you said I'd need to do very little on the computer?"

"Doing some basic spreadsheets on Excel is doing very little."

Offended, embarrassed, Susan said, "Rory, I really appreciate your offering me the job but I'm glad we agreed it was a trial. This just isn't right for me."

Rory turned on the flirtatious look, "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

After only two hours on the job, she was back in her car and thinking: "I'm not even good enough for a $12 an hour job. Damn, he's right. Excel. That's really basic. I'll need that for almost any job. I'll take a class. That's what I'll do. I'll take an Excel class."

The next episode is HERE.

Susan's Saga: An unvarnished look at work today. Episode 4: Rotary

The Sapian Family Saga Part II: Susan's Saga Episode 4: Rotary
In the previous episode, Susan followed her career counselor's advice to "explore new vistas," although she did it with perhaps a bit too much vigor: everything from yoga to hip-hop dancing, spiritual retreat to whitewater rafting. She then decided she might do better with a different kind of exploration: She joined Rotary.

For the uninitiated, Rotary is not the group that wears fezzes or conducts secret rituals involving dead-language mumbo-jumbo. It's as mainstream as America gets: mainly a bunch of middle-middle-class people, disproportionately small business owners, who get together every week or two for breakfast or lunch, fun fundraisers and, although it's officially discouraged as tainting of its charitable mission, to make business and career connections.

There are 34,000 Rotary clubs, 6,000 in the U.S. There even was one in Sage River, which is the one Susan joined or, more accurately, was invited to join. Not just anyone can get into Rotary--you have to be sponsored. Fortunately, her yoga teacher was a member. Susan thought, "See, taking yoga may have been good for my career after all!" 

Every two weeks, her Rotary club meets for lunch, and Rotarians eat like the mainstream Americans they are. No "garden salad, dressing on the side and a sparkling water with a wedge of lime." More likely, it's chicken-fried steak, mac and cheese, a coke, and apple pie for dessert. When Rotarians say they're watching their weight, it usually means they'll skip the a la mode...for today. 

As she waited in the buffet line, she mused, "Is it really better for restaurants to throw out the mountains of buffet food that's always left than to give it to the poor? Wouldn't that likely to do far more good than harm?"

Wanting to fit in, as Susan moved through the buffet, she joined the contest to see who could fit the most calories on a plate. She figured that by the time the waitress came by to take plates, the porkers wouldn't notice that two-thirds was left on hers.

Susan was equally planful in deciding where to sit. "No, not at that table where 60-year-olds would be seen as "young uns." Nor at the one with Gen Z'ers--they're not likely to have career connections. Then she spotted a table with mainly midlifers and an empty seat, and she and her 3,000-calorie plate headed for it like someone trying to get the last good seat in a movie theater without looking like she's trying too hard. 

Week after week, Rotary conversation never went further than Huskies football, kitchen recipes, or if she was lucky, who was sleeping with whom. Indeed, it was in such a conversation when, Rory, who owned the ag supply store in town, turned to her and said, "Of course, that's not something you would do." Susan blushed and deliberately pursed her lips dismissively, just as a new widow should. But privately, she welcomed the flirtation, even from a Joe Sixpack, maybe especially from a Joe Sixpack. 

More weeks passed and Susan deliberately did not sit at Rory's table. But one time, Rory sat down at her table, right next to her. And as they were getting up to leave, he said, "I could use a little help at the store. Might you be interested?" 

"I'm working at the school." 

"Not on Saturdays. How about a half day on Saturdays? Just greet the customers, help 'em if you can, answer the phone, a little paperwork, almost nothing on the computer."

"Almost nothing on the computer." She thought, "Amazing how that negates the other negatives: a guy trying to flirt with me a new widow, a clerk job, at a fertilizer store?"  

She weakened: "I don't think so." 

"Try it one Saturday. If you're not completely satisfied, we'll refund your money. No questions asked."

"And he's funny," she thought.

"Okay, one Saturday."

"I think things are gonna work out just fine." And he stared into her eyes. 

The next episode is HERE.

Susan's Saga: A continuing series on work today among other things. Episode 4: Rotary

The Sapien Family Saga Part II: Susan's Saga Episode 4: Rotary
In the previous episode, Susan followed her career counselor's advice to "explore new vistas," although she did it with perhaps a bit too much vigor: everything from yoga to hip-hop dancing, spiritual retreat to whitewater rafting. She then decided she might do better with a different kind of exploration: She joined Rotary.

For the uninitiated, Rotary is not the group that wears fezzes or conducts secret rituals involving dead-language mumbo-jumbo. It's as mainstream as the U.S. gets: mainly a bunch of middle-middle-class people, disproportionately small business owners, who get together every week or two for breakfast or lunch, fun fundraisers and, although it's officially discouraged as tainting of its charitable mission, to make business and career connections.

There are 34,000 Rotary clubs, 6,000 in the U.S. There even was one in Sage River, which is the one Susan joined or, more accurately, was invited to join. Not just anyone can get into Rotary--you have to be sponsored. Fortunately, her yoga teacher was a member. Susan thought, "See, taking yoga may have been good for my career after all!" 

Every two weeks, her Rotary club meets for lunch, and Rotarians eat like the mainstream Americans they are. No "garden salad, dressing on the side and a sparkling water with a wedge of lime." More likely, it's chicken-fried steak, mac and cheese, a coke, and apple pie for dessert. When Rotarians say they're watching their weight, it usually means they'll skip the a la mode...for today. 

As she waited in the buffet line, she mused, "Is it really better for restaurants to throw out the mountains of buffet food that's always left than to give it to the poor? Isn't that likely to do far more good than harm?"

Wanting to fit in, as Susan moved through the buffet, she joined the contest to see who could fit the most calories on a plate. She figured that by the time the waitress came by to take plates, the porkers wouldn't notice that two-thirds was left on hers.

Susan was equally planful in deciding where to sit. "No, not at that table where 60-year-olds would be seen as "young uns." Nor at the one with Gen Z'ers--they're not likely to have career connections. Then she spotted a table with mainly midlifers and an empty seat, and she and her 3,000-calorie plate headed for it like someone trying to get the last good seat in a movie theater without looking like she's trying too hard. 

Week after week, Rotary conversation never went further than Huskies football, kitchen recipes, or if she was lucky, who was sleeping with whom. Indeed, it was in such a conversation when, Rory, who owned the ag supply store in town, company, turned to her and said, "Of course, that's not something you would do." Susan blushed and deliberately pursed her lips dismissively, just as a new widow should. But privately, she welcomed the flirtation, even from a Joe Sixpack, maybe especially from a Joe Sixpack. 

More weeks passed and Susan deliberately did not sit at Rory's table. But one time, Rory sat down at her table, right next to her. And as they were getting up to leave, he said, "I could use a little help at the store. Might you be interested?" 

"I'm working at the school." 

"Not on Saturdays. How about a half day on Saturdays? Just greet the customers, help 'em if you can, answer the phone, a little paperwork, almost nothing on the computer.

"Almost nothing on the computer." She thought, "Amazing how that negates the other negatives: a guy trying to flirt with me a new widow, a clerk job, at a fertilizer store?"  

She weakened: "I don't think so." 

"Try it one Saturday. If you're not completely satisfied, we'll refund your money. No questions asked."

"And he's funny," she thought.

"Okay, one Saturday."

"I think things are gonna work out just fine." And he stared into her eyes. 

I hope to post the next episode tomorrow morning.

Susan's Saga: An unvarnished look at work today. Episode 3: Explorations

The Sapian Family Saga Part II: Susan's Saga  Episode 3: Explorations
In the previous episode,  Susan's career counselor gave her a common-sense but welcomed homework assignment: explore. "Planned serendipity," the counselor called it.

That's just what Susan was ready for, so she dove in. First, it was yoga. Or I should say, first, she bought a $165 Lululemon yoga outfit, $68 yoga mat, and---I'm not kidding--$38 yoga towel. But while the mountain and fighter poses were fine, even the supposedly easy dog-bending-down pose was, well, unfelicitous to her long-dormant body. "I can't believe some of them--They're like the contortionists in Cirque du Soleil." And yoga as a career networking opportunity? Not exactly: All of her classmates seemed less oriented to career than to the upward-facing-dog pose, and the conversation never got more career-related than which bodyworker to hire to heal them from yoga.

But Susan liked being physical, albeit a little less so, so she signed up for a hip-hop dancing class. But her hop wasn't so hip and conversation was impossible in the next-door lounge. Susan thought, "Twenty minutes in here and you're deaf. Maybe the owner is an audiologist trying to (ahem) drum up some business."

Okay, so maybe that was the wrong kind of dancing. Figuring she'd merge her dancing desire with her spiritual searching, she went on a retreat, the highlight of which was moonlight nude shamanic dancing. She couldn't make herself take her clothes off. Hell, she couldn't even make herself stop laughing as they waved sage brush and incense around as their bodies swayed and bounced in the moonlight.

Working on Rent with the kids in the middle school kept her grounded, although there was one kid she wanted to pillory. Right before Easter vacation, that kid decided he was going to try to climb up the set---He made it halfway up before the canvas tore, right in the middle of the Empire State Building. 

She felt like resurrecting him but instead attempted an Easter vacation rebirth or at least rejuvenation on a whitewater rafting trip in Costa Rica. Should she go on the Class II, Class III, or most challenging Class IV? She decided to be brave---and fell out of the boat, bobbing down the river. Thank God for a branch that stuck out. She grabbed on just before she would have been in need of resurrection. 

Back in Sage River, Susan sat by the fire, reflecting on her explorations and realized she needed a different sort of exploration. So she joined Rotary.

The next episode is posted HERE.

Susan's Saga: a continuing series on work today and all manner of other things. Episode 3: Explorations

The Sapien Family Saga Part II: Susan's Saga  Episode 3: Explorations
In the previous episode,  Susan's career counselor gave her a common-sense but welcomed homework assignment: explore. "Planned serendipity," the counselor called it.

That's just what Susan was ready for, so she dove in. First, it was yoga. Or I should say, first, she bought a $165 Lululemon yoga outfit, $68 yoga mat, and---I'm not kidding--$38 yoga towel. But while the mountain and fighter poses were fine, even the supposedly easy dog-bending-down pose was, well, unfelicitous to her long-dormant body. "I can't believe some of them--They're like the contortionists in Cirque du Soleil." And yoga as a career networking opportunity? Not exactly: All of her classmates seemed less oriented to career than to the upward-facing-dog pose, and the conversation never got more career-related than which bodyworker to hire to heal them from yoga.

But Susan liked being physical, albeit a little less so, so she signed up for a hip-hop dancing class. But her hop wasn't so hip and conversation was impossible in the next-door lounge. Susan thought, "Twenty minutes in here and you're deaf. Maybe the owner is an audiologist trying to (ahem) drum up some business."

Okay, so maybe that was the wrong kind of dancing. Figuring she'd merge her dancing desire with her spiritual searching, she went on a retreat, the highlight of which was moonlight nude shamanic dancing. She couldn't make herself take her clothes off. Hell, she couldn't even make herself stop laughing as they waved sage brush and incense around as their bodies swayed and bounced in the moonlight.

Working on Rent with the kids in the high school kept her grounded, although there was one kid she wanted to pillory. Right before Easter vacation, that kid decided he was going to try to climb up the set---He made it halfway up before the canvas tore, right in the middle of the Empire State Building. 

She felt like resurrecting him but instead attempted an Easter vacation rebirth or at least rejuvenation on a whitewater rafting trip in Costa Rica. Should she go on the Class II, Class III, or most challenging Class IV? She decided to be brave---and fell out of the boat, bobbing down the river. Thank God for a branch that stuck out. She grabbed on just before she would have been in need of resurrection. 

Back in Sage River, Susan sat by the fire, reflecting on her explorations and realized she needed a different sort of exploration. So she joined Rotary.

The next episode is posted HERE.

Susan's Saga: An unvarnished look at work today. Episode 2: Career Counseling

The Sapian Family Saga Part II: Susan's Saga  Episode 2: Career Counseling
In the previous episode, Susan started to contemplate life without David--including a fear she'd end up a bag lady. She decided to look into finding a career counselor. 

First, Susan called a career coach she ended up calling The Moneygrubber: He'd only sell a $4,900 bronze package, $6,900 silver package, or $9,900 gold package. Susan thought, "Way too much. Besides anyone who makes you commit that much money up front probably is afraid that after a session or two, you'll quit."

Susan called the next counselor, "The Tester:" That counselor would devote three sessions to an alphabet soup of career assessments: DISC, SII, and, of course, the MBTI (Myers-Briggs Type Indicator.) One of the few specifics Susan still remembered from her college courses was when her psychology professor said, "Those career 'tests,' especially the Myers-Briggs aren't much better than a horoscope."

Susan called the third counselor "The Listener:"  "Uh huh," "Tell me more." "I hear you saying" (then parrots back.") Susan thought, "She'll never teach me anything. She's like those consultants who steal your watch to tell you what time it is."

Susan decided to do at least one session with the fourth coach, Michelle, whom she called The Practical Dreamer. Susan liked that Michelle said, "I keep my head in the clouds, feet on the ground," whatever that means.  Susan also liked that Michelle would, a week before the first session, email Susan a probing new-client questionnaire to complete at home. That would serve as the springboard for the session. That way, Susan wouldn't have to pay the counselor for all that questioning-and-answering. Plus, Susan would have the time to reflect on the questions rather than having to come up with a great answer on the fly.

In fact, Susan felt she got more from answering the questionnaire than from the session with Michelle. Susan's questionnaire answers made clear that her career non-negotiables were: a creative component and working in an organization rather than solo so she'd have lots of people contact and a support infrastructure. Her best abilities were staying calm, leading kids, and a refined aesthetic. Her core value was education. Susan wondered whether all those stood out simply because her most recent activity was directing Rent at the high school.

Susan also worried, "Isn't all that too vague?" Michelle responded, "Getting more specific would be false precision. You could be content in many fields and settings. For example, you never would think of being in soybean processing but if a nice person offered you a good job helping him to set up his soybean processing facility, I'd bet you'd give it a try. Right?" Susan agreed. 

At the end of the session, Michelle gave Susan a homework assignment that, while just common sense, felt right: "Explore, maybe volunteer. Put yourself in places you might learn more about yourself, be exposed to new career ideas and to people who could give you a good job lead" 

Susan left after that two-hour session feeling she had gotten her $400 worth but decided not to make another appointment. She'd simply follow Michelle's advice to explore. 

The next episode is posted HERE.