Yesterday, I was working in one of our Chantilly offices until about 2 pm. At that point, I decided to head home because the weather report was calling for a snowstorm to roll in starting about 4 pm. I didn't want to get caught out in it, and I am set up to work from home. So I packed up my proposal, and I headed to my house.
The weather predictors were right on the money with this one. About 4:30 pm, I heard this noise that sounded like my cats getting into something in the kitchen. I got up to follow the noise and realized that it was sleet and hail on my deck making that weird noise. It was coming down really hard and really fast. I quickly emailed my colleagues that I knew were still in the office to get out while they could. But there was a part of me that felt like maybe I was overreacting to the news. Could it be that my weeks of working at home have made me gun-shy for being out in bad weather? A little sleet, a little hail. Not all that bad. And about a half hour after it started, the hail and sleet had turned into rain. Now, I really thought I'd overreacted.
Until about a half an hour after that when the snow was blowing so hard that it looked like it was falling horizontally. It was amazing to watch - quite beautiful actually. I posted about the snow on Facebook, and a few other friends indicated that they were heading home.
Later in the evening, other friends started posting about long commutes. Hours and hours spent on the road. This morning, I heard from several friends who had ridiculously long commutes home. My nephew-in-law, for instance, had a 5-hour commute to go 6 miles. He could have walked faster. Another friend, who is a labor and delivery nurse, couldn't have left even if she'd wanted to. Because her relief couldn't get to the hospital. Another friend didn't get home until after midnight, despite having left downtown DC at 6 pm. And a few friends ventured out to try to get home, only to turn around and go back to the office and spend the night there.
They're dubbing this storm "Carmegeddon" because of the number of abandoned cars by the side of the road. I no longer feel stupid for having left the office when I did. I'm just grateful that I made myself do it.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Switching Sides
I am a restless sleeper. I think I've written before that I rarely sleep through the night. I'm usually up several times, though usually I don't physically get up and out of bed.
Usually, I wake up and roll over. And go back to sleep.
It starts at the beginning of my sleep cycle. I usually start to fall asleep on one side (I only sleep on my side(s)) and then, just as I'm drifting off, I turn to the other side. I have no idea why this happens, but it happens just about every night.
Sometimes I consciously switch sides. Or perhaps semiconsciously would be the better term. Maybe I'm in a strange position on the one side, and a body part is uncomfortable. I usually sleep in a pretty classic fetal position, legs bent to almost 90 degrees and at 110 degrees from the rest of my body (that is, more than 90 degrees from my torso but less than straight). But sometimes, I turn further toward the mattress, so that I'm almost on my stomach except my torso and head. That's a pretty big twist in waist and hips. Depending on how much yoga or other exercise I've been getting, that position sometimes becomes less comfortable. When it does, I rarely just pull my legs up into the more fetal position. Instead, I roll over.
The other time I semiconsciously roll over is for bad dreams. If I'm having a bad dream - and I dream a lot - then I will "wake" myself up and turn over. Most of the time, that changes my dream focus enough that I will not continue the dream on the other side. Not always, but most of the time. If the dream involves something that's really bothering me - a work problem I'm trying to fix - I will sometimes have to roll over several times to "shake it".
Some people have called this kind of sleeping tossing and turning. Somehow that image implies a more frantic state than I am usually in. I prefer the term switching sides.
Usually, I wake up and roll over. And go back to sleep.
It starts at the beginning of my sleep cycle. I usually start to fall asleep on one side (I only sleep on my side(s)) and then, just as I'm drifting off, I turn to the other side. I have no idea why this happens, but it happens just about every night.
Sometimes I consciously switch sides. Or perhaps semiconsciously would be the better term. Maybe I'm in a strange position on the one side, and a body part is uncomfortable. I usually sleep in a pretty classic fetal position, legs bent to almost 90 degrees and at 110 degrees from the rest of my body (that is, more than 90 degrees from my torso but less than straight). But sometimes, I turn further toward the mattress, so that I'm almost on my stomach except my torso and head. That's a pretty big twist in waist and hips. Depending on how much yoga or other exercise I've been getting, that position sometimes becomes less comfortable. When it does, I rarely just pull my legs up into the more fetal position. Instead, I roll over.
The other time I semiconsciously roll over is for bad dreams. If I'm having a bad dream - and I dream a lot - then I will "wake" myself up and turn over. Most of the time, that changes my dream focus enough that I will not continue the dream on the other side. Not always, but most of the time. If the dream involves something that's really bothering me - a work problem I'm trying to fix - I will sometimes have to roll over several times to "shake it".
Some people have called this kind of sleeping tossing and turning. Somehow that image implies a more frantic state than I am usually in. I prefer the term switching sides.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Has It Been Two Years Already?
I noted the date today as Inauguration Day, every four years when we elect a new president. So two years ago, today, was the day we inaugurated our first black president.
I don't usually go political in my blog. There are many political blogs out there already, and most of the time I'm only semi-informed anyway. But I couldn't help but notice the date and think back to the energy and enthusiasm that you could feel across the country just two short years ago, and where we are today. It's sad how quickly the tides turn.
This morning's Washington Post had a headline of "House pass health repeal; move is mostly symbolic". 245 members, including three Democrats, voted to repeal the healthcare legislation that the previous Congress passed about a year ago. Healthcare reform is something that I pay attention to as my work involves federal health IT systems and so is obviously affected by these kinds of major changes. Both the ARRA legislation and the healthcare reform act (Affordable Care Act) will have a major impact on our industry. Apparently the symbolic gesture will now be followed by attempts to whittle away at the provisions of ACA.
The bee in the bonnet - at least from what little I know - seems to be requiring everyone to have health insurance or pay a fine for not having it. Personally, I think insurance - any insurance - is a bit of a racket. Generally, I think, we end up paying for much more than we receive in return. For example, I've had automobile insurance since I've owned cars. So since 1986, when I bought my first car, I've paid $60-100 a month for this insurance coverage. That's 25 years x 12 months x all those dollars = a whole lot more than the one claim I ever had to process. But most states do require auto insurance. In Virginia, you can not have it, but you have to declare that and I think you pay extra on your car (maybe; I don't really know). From what I understand, there was a hue and cry when automobile insurance first became required, as well. Now I think most people take it as a given.
But the other thing I think about is the difference in costs - auto vs. health. Worst case scenario, your car is totaled. For most of us, that's not more than $20k or $30k that the insurance company would have to shell out. Considering I've paid out about $20k insurance over the years, seems about right. But the costs associated with health are both larger and potentially longer. Your car gets totaled; you get a new car; you essentially start the car process all over again. Your new car isn't affected by the old car's accident.
But with your health, everything that happens can have long-term consequences. That same accident that totaled your car may have hurt you as well. Probably did in fact. And only a few days in the hospital can quickly equal the total of what we have paid into health insurance. So I believe that health insurance actually is worth paying for. The other reason that health insurance is important is for preventive care. Most auto insurance doesn't cover routine maintenance of your car. But health insurance should cover routine maintenance of your body. Because preventive care has been proven to improve people's health overall and reduce the costs of care in the long term. Without health insurance, people don't go for routine care. They only go when something really bad has happened. And they may not have a usual doctor who knows their history and what medications they may be taking. That can cause problems as well.
So I believe that requiring health insurance will be a good thing. And I believe that Obama was right to push for it. And I'm sad that the House (and others) are trying to whittle away at it.
I don't usually go political in my blog. There are many political blogs out there already, and most of the time I'm only semi-informed anyway. But I couldn't help but notice the date and think back to the energy and enthusiasm that you could feel across the country just two short years ago, and where we are today. It's sad how quickly the tides turn.
This morning's Washington Post had a headline of "House pass health repeal; move is mostly symbolic". 245 members, including three Democrats, voted to repeal the healthcare legislation that the previous Congress passed about a year ago. Healthcare reform is something that I pay attention to as my work involves federal health IT systems and so is obviously affected by these kinds of major changes. Both the ARRA legislation and the healthcare reform act (Affordable Care Act) will have a major impact on our industry. Apparently the symbolic gesture will now be followed by attempts to whittle away at the provisions of ACA.
The bee in the bonnet - at least from what little I know - seems to be requiring everyone to have health insurance or pay a fine for not having it. Personally, I think insurance - any insurance - is a bit of a racket. Generally, I think, we end up paying for much more than we receive in return. For example, I've had automobile insurance since I've owned cars. So since 1986, when I bought my first car, I've paid $60-100 a month for this insurance coverage. That's 25 years x 12 months x all those dollars = a whole lot more than the one claim I ever had to process. But most states do require auto insurance. In Virginia, you can not have it, but you have to declare that and I think you pay extra on your car (maybe; I don't really know). From what I understand, there was a hue and cry when automobile insurance first became required, as well. Now I think most people take it as a given.
But the other thing I think about is the difference in costs - auto vs. health. Worst case scenario, your car is totaled. For most of us, that's not more than $20k or $30k that the insurance company would have to shell out. Considering I've paid out about $20k insurance over the years, seems about right. But the costs associated with health are both larger and potentially longer. Your car gets totaled; you get a new car; you essentially start the car process all over again. Your new car isn't affected by the old car's accident.
But with your health, everything that happens can have long-term consequences. That same accident that totaled your car may have hurt you as well. Probably did in fact. And only a few days in the hospital can quickly equal the total of what we have paid into health insurance. So I believe that health insurance actually is worth paying for. The other reason that health insurance is important is for preventive care. Most auto insurance doesn't cover routine maintenance of your car. But health insurance should cover routine maintenance of your body. Because preventive care has been proven to improve people's health overall and reduce the costs of care in the long term. Without health insurance, people don't go for routine care. They only go when something really bad has happened. And they may not have a usual doctor who knows their history and what medications they may be taking. That can cause problems as well.
So I believe that requiring health insurance will be a good thing. And I believe that Obama was right to push for it. And I'm sad that the House (and others) are trying to whittle away at it.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Fact Or Fiction
My book is going to be a combination of memoir and imagined fiction. The reality of what happened, followed by what might have happened had I taken a different path. It's been interesting to explore what might have happened. But I'm actually finding it harder to write the memoir part.
I've read quite a few autobiographies. I think it's a fascinating glimpse into what makes people tick. Why did they do the things they did? How did they do them? Why?
One of the first autobiographies I read was "Is That It?" by Bob Geldof. He wrote it shortly after Live Aid to explain how these amazing benefit concerts had been pulled together by a relatively unknown punk rock guy. The title came from a kid who was apparently expressing disappointment that the concerts were over. He was waiting for more. I think Geldof chose that title because he himself didn't want the concerts to be the end but rather the start of giving to impoverished Africa. They may have prompted that kind of giving. They also propelled Geldof into something of a statesman's role in trying to figure out how best to use the funds raised. And the concerts themselves went on to spawn many other fund-raising concerts, including Farm Aid.
But as I'm writing my "fact", I have come to wonder about the dialog found in such autobiographies. Now while I'm sure Bob Geldof may remember that one kid's comment as a pivotal one, I doubt that he - or anyone - can recall all the conversations he had with the various performers in the days leading up to the shows. Even writing his story shortly after they happened, I'd be surprised if he recalled the exact words he had with people in the months of planning. I keep meaning to go look at the book and see how much dialog there is. Because that's what I'm struggling with.
It's easy to imagine conversations that might have taken place. For the fictional pieces, I can put myself in the imagined moment and believe that I can create a fairly accurate portrayal of what the conversation might have included.
But trying to recall actual conversations nearly 30 years later, in some cases, seems like an impossible task. I remember the gist of what was said. I remember the outcomes, what happened as a result of the conversations. But even such momentous conversations as my one and only marriage proposal are gone from the reaches of my memory.
I am finding, however, that the details of what happened when - the timeline of the events - is easier to construct now that I have to laid it out. A led to B, which led to C. Or B happened between A and C, and so had to have happened in this timeframe. Names of people who have long since moved out of my life are also coming back. Not easily but gradually. I will end up changing most of the names anyway. After all, the memoir parts are not always comfortable to think about and sometimes include things best left between the two parties involved. So a little fiction will be interjected in the changing of names and possibly a few other elements. The parties who were intimately involved will know the real story. Whether they choose to acknowledge that is up to them.
Which is probably why I have found it easiest to write the "facts" around my relationship with a man who died a few years ago. He's not here to judge me and whether I have told the true tale. Almost no one - in fact, no one besides the two of us - know the actual facts. And my memory is fuzzy at best on some. The other "true" stories will be harder. Because they need to be true enough to be believed and lead to the imagined life stories. But still perhaps a blending of fact and fiction. Remembered or reimagined conversations. Snippets of the true facts laced with true-to-the-best-of-my-recall events.
So not fact or fiction. But instead fact and fiction.
I've read quite a few autobiographies. I think it's a fascinating glimpse into what makes people tick. Why did they do the things they did? How did they do them? Why?
One of the first autobiographies I read was "Is That It?" by Bob Geldof. He wrote it shortly after Live Aid to explain how these amazing benefit concerts had been pulled together by a relatively unknown punk rock guy. The title came from a kid who was apparently expressing disappointment that the concerts were over. He was waiting for more. I think Geldof chose that title because he himself didn't want the concerts to be the end but rather the start of giving to impoverished Africa. They may have prompted that kind of giving. They also propelled Geldof into something of a statesman's role in trying to figure out how best to use the funds raised. And the concerts themselves went on to spawn many other fund-raising concerts, including Farm Aid.
But as I'm writing my "fact", I have come to wonder about the dialog found in such autobiographies. Now while I'm sure Bob Geldof may remember that one kid's comment as a pivotal one, I doubt that he - or anyone - can recall all the conversations he had with the various performers in the days leading up to the shows. Even writing his story shortly after they happened, I'd be surprised if he recalled the exact words he had with people in the months of planning. I keep meaning to go look at the book and see how much dialog there is. Because that's what I'm struggling with.
It's easy to imagine conversations that might have taken place. For the fictional pieces, I can put myself in the imagined moment and believe that I can create a fairly accurate portrayal of what the conversation might have included.
But trying to recall actual conversations nearly 30 years later, in some cases, seems like an impossible task. I remember the gist of what was said. I remember the outcomes, what happened as a result of the conversations. But even such momentous conversations as my one and only marriage proposal are gone from the reaches of my memory.
I am finding, however, that the details of what happened when - the timeline of the events - is easier to construct now that I have to laid it out. A led to B, which led to C. Or B happened between A and C, and so had to have happened in this timeframe. Names of people who have long since moved out of my life are also coming back. Not easily but gradually. I will end up changing most of the names anyway. After all, the memoir parts are not always comfortable to think about and sometimes include things best left between the two parties involved. So a little fiction will be interjected in the changing of names and possibly a few other elements. The parties who were intimately involved will know the real story. Whether they choose to acknowledge that is up to them.
Which is probably why I have found it easiest to write the "facts" around my relationship with a man who died a few years ago. He's not here to judge me and whether I have told the true tale. Almost no one - in fact, no one besides the two of us - know the actual facts. And my memory is fuzzy at best on some. The other "true" stories will be harder. Because they need to be true enough to be believed and lead to the imagined life stories. But still perhaps a blending of fact and fiction. Remembered or reimagined conversations. Snippets of the true facts laced with true-to-the-best-of-my-recall events.
So not fact or fiction. But instead fact and fiction.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Welcome To The World
Miles Christian Kowalewski was born at 4:36 on Friday, January 14, 2011. We have been waiting for his arrival for almost nine months now. No one more than his parents, of course.
Linnea and Jason will be phenomenal parents. Young Master Miles will never doubt that he is loved. He will be a handsome boy with intelligence to match. He will grow up to respect the environment. He will also respect those who think differently than he does. He will love all humankind, as long as they are respectful of each other, regardless of race, creed, color, sexual orientation, or any of the other qualities that make humanity interesting. He will be honest and caring.
How do I know all of these things? Because he is going to be raised that way.
Linnea and Jason will be phenomenal parents. Young Master Miles will never doubt that he is loved. He will be a handsome boy with intelligence to match. He will grow up to respect the environment. He will also respect those who think differently than he does. He will love all humankind, as long as they are respectful of each other, regardless of race, creed, color, sexual orientation, or any of the other qualities that make humanity interesting. He will be honest and caring.
How do I know all of these things? Because he is going to be raised that way.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Feelings Of Inadequacy
A couple of years ago, I was invited to join an advisory board. I met the dean when I was in a marketing role and she was looking for someone from my company to participate on her board. It wouldn't have been me. It would have been one of the senior staff, probably our chief medical officer. In the end, my boss decided not to pursue participation on the advisory board. But the dean and I developed a friendship. About once a quarter, we would meet for lunch. We talked about the changing health industry. Her perspective in academia was very different from mine in industry.
Once I changed companies, the dean asked me to join her board. I told her I didn't think I was senior enough, but she didn't agree. Whoever approves these things at the university must have agreed because I was asked formally. My boss in my new company decided that it was okay for me to be on the board. And so I joined the board.
This year, the college is trying to fund a building for the college on the larger university's campus. The university and the state don't have the money for the building, so the advisory board is trying to help raise the funds. If we can raise some of the money, hopefully it will spur the state to pony up the rest of it.
To raise the funds, the members of the advisory board have been asked to recommend people and companies who might have funds to donate. Large amounts of money. And this is where I feel inadequate. Because I don't have those kinds of connections. I know people who know people, but I don't know anyone directly who has that kind of money. I don't move in those circles. I'm just not that senior.
And I feel bad about that. And it reiterates my feelings that I may not be right for an advisory board. Inadequate.
Once I changed companies, the dean asked me to join her board. I told her I didn't think I was senior enough, but she didn't agree. Whoever approves these things at the university must have agreed because I was asked formally. My boss in my new company decided that it was okay for me to be on the board. And so I joined the board.
This year, the college is trying to fund a building for the college on the larger university's campus. The university and the state don't have the money for the building, so the advisory board is trying to help raise the funds. If we can raise some of the money, hopefully it will spur the state to pony up the rest of it.
To raise the funds, the members of the advisory board have been asked to recommend people and companies who might have funds to donate. Large amounts of money. And this is where I feel inadequate. Because I don't have those kinds of connections. I know people who know people, but I don't know anyone directly who has that kind of money. I don't move in those circles. I'm just not that senior.
And I feel bad about that. And it reiterates my feelings that I may not be right for an advisory board. Inadequate.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Party Animal
Most weekends, I have one event to go to. Sometimes it's a concert or some other musical event. Sometimes it's just a meal with a friend. Sometimes it's dinner or something with my family. It's a rare weekend when I have both days completely open, but most of the time that's just fine with me. It's good to have free time, and it's good to have things to look forward to.
This past weekend, I had two events. Friday night, I went with an old friend to see some folks we know play at a local coffeehouse. Before the show, he took me to dinner. The dinner and show was my Christmas present from him - a very nice one indeed. Dinner was at a new restaurant to me, and it was very tasty. After dinner, we headed over to the show, which started at 8 with an opening act. Neither of us particularly liked the opener, but we were looking forward to the trio who would be performing as the main act. One of the guys, the eponymous front man, usually plays with a folk band that has become a national act after years of playing local clubs and bars. His usual bandmates weren't on the bill with him, but rather he was playing with a couple of other folk buddies, including one guy from another band that my friend and I had been seeing for years. It was something he did regularly - every 5 years on his birthday. So with two of the three guys being musicians we enjoyed, we figured the show would be good. And it was, complete with a happy birthday tribute. But it was getting late, and my friend had to get up early, so we left before the encore at about 11 pm. By the time I got home, it was about a half hour later. I read a little before settling down to sleep at a little after midnight.
Saturday night, the rescue with which I volunteer was having an annual fundraiser. The woman who founded the rescue also owns a couple of local restaurants, and the volunteers and others associated with the rescue took over one of those restaurants to eat, drink, and celebrate another year gone by. And to raise some money for the rescue. One of the very active volunteers started the event as a fundraiser for her birthday - instead of giving presents, give to the rescue. A lovely sentiment that had raised quite a bit of money for the rescue each year. The event officially ended at 10, but at 10:30 we were still jawing. And then I stopped by the other restaurant on my way out to get some rescue-related clothing, available only at the other restaurant at the other end of the strip mall. By the time I got to my car, it was again 11 pm. I got home, got ready for bed, and it was almost midnight again.
This was not the norm for me. It had been. In college, I rarely went to bed before midnight. But then again, I arranged it so I never had classes before 10 am if I could help it. And often not before 11 am. And I was younger then. These days, staying up past midnight two days in a row is exhausting.
And it was the second weekend in a row that I had had such late nights. The previous weekend was New Years. My sister-in-law hosted a party on New Years Eve for my brother's birthday, which was later that week, and for the family to celebrate the change of years. The plan had been to have dinner and potentially stay up together till the ball dropped. We didn't make it that late, though. My very pregnant niece and her husband were the first to leave about 10:30 pm. My father and mother made it about another half an hour later. That left me with my brother and his wife, which just seemed like it would be awkward, so I left with my parents. I was pretty tired anyway, so it was probably just as well. I got home a little after 11 and decided that, at that point, I might as well stay up till it was actually midnight. I turned out the light at 12:02.
The next day, New Years Day, some friends were having a holiday party. This particular crowd never runs out of things to say. It was 11 pm before we knew it. I decided that I was beat, having been out late the night before. I headed home, but by the time I got home, got ready for bed, and settled in, it was midnight again. Yawn! The next day, I was exhausted and tried to nap. Unfortunately, I just couldn't quite get comfortable and didn't get the nap in. I was a little appalled that I was so tired, but later that day, my throat started getting sore and I realized that I was getting sick. I thought that explained my tiredness. Though I knew it was also that I'm just not used to being up late anymore. And I'm not as young as I used to be.
I still think of myself as a night owl. I still hate getting out of bed in the morning. But when going to bed at midnight exhausts me so much, I might have to rethink that characterization.
This past weekend, I had two events. Friday night, I went with an old friend to see some folks we know play at a local coffeehouse. Before the show, he took me to dinner. The dinner and show was my Christmas present from him - a very nice one indeed. Dinner was at a new restaurant to me, and it was very tasty. After dinner, we headed over to the show, which started at 8 with an opening act. Neither of us particularly liked the opener, but we were looking forward to the trio who would be performing as the main act. One of the guys, the eponymous front man, usually plays with a folk band that has become a national act after years of playing local clubs and bars. His usual bandmates weren't on the bill with him, but rather he was playing with a couple of other folk buddies, including one guy from another band that my friend and I had been seeing for years. It was something he did regularly - every 5 years on his birthday. So with two of the three guys being musicians we enjoyed, we figured the show would be good. And it was, complete with a happy birthday tribute. But it was getting late, and my friend had to get up early, so we left before the encore at about 11 pm. By the time I got home, it was about a half hour later. I read a little before settling down to sleep at a little after midnight.
Saturday night, the rescue with which I volunteer was having an annual fundraiser. The woman who founded the rescue also owns a couple of local restaurants, and the volunteers and others associated with the rescue took over one of those restaurants to eat, drink, and celebrate another year gone by. And to raise some money for the rescue. One of the very active volunteers started the event as a fundraiser for her birthday - instead of giving presents, give to the rescue. A lovely sentiment that had raised quite a bit of money for the rescue each year. The event officially ended at 10, but at 10:30 we were still jawing. And then I stopped by the other restaurant on my way out to get some rescue-related clothing, available only at the other restaurant at the other end of the strip mall. By the time I got to my car, it was again 11 pm. I got home, got ready for bed, and it was almost midnight again.
This was not the norm for me. It had been. In college, I rarely went to bed before midnight. But then again, I arranged it so I never had classes before 10 am if I could help it. And often not before 11 am. And I was younger then. These days, staying up past midnight two days in a row is exhausting.
And it was the second weekend in a row that I had had such late nights. The previous weekend was New Years. My sister-in-law hosted a party on New Years Eve for my brother's birthday, which was later that week, and for the family to celebrate the change of years. The plan had been to have dinner and potentially stay up together till the ball dropped. We didn't make it that late, though. My very pregnant niece and her husband were the first to leave about 10:30 pm. My father and mother made it about another half an hour later. That left me with my brother and his wife, which just seemed like it would be awkward, so I left with my parents. I was pretty tired anyway, so it was probably just as well. I got home a little after 11 and decided that, at that point, I might as well stay up till it was actually midnight. I turned out the light at 12:02.
The next day, New Years Day, some friends were having a holiday party. This particular crowd never runs out of things to say. It was 11 pm before we knew it. I decided that I was beat, having been out late the night before. I headed home, but by the time I got home, got ready for bed, and settled in, it was midnight again. Yawn! The next day, I was exhausted and tried to nap. Unfortunately, I just couldn't quite get comfortable and didn't get the nap in. I was a little appalled that I was so tired, but later that day, my throat started getting sore and I realized that I was getting sick. I thought that explained my tiredness. Though I knew it was also that I'm just not used to being up late anymore. And I'm not as young as I used to be.
I still think of myself as a night owl. I still hate getting out of bed in the morning. But when going to bed at midnight exhausts me so much, I might have to rethink that characterization.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Rewards and Challenges
I'm a type A, control freak with a desire for perfection. If I can't do it right, I'd rather not do it at all. And I'd rather have control over my own destiny than leave it to others. I'm also a planner and very detail-oriented. All of which makes my job both rewarding and challenging.
Rewarding because if there's ever a process that needs a planner and someone to look after all the details, it's proposal management. The entire process is controlled chaos. Bringing together writing from a bunch of different people and trying to make it into a cohesive whole. Managing a schedule that is almost always ridiculously tight. Organizing a team of people, none of whom (or very few of whom) actually report to you. To produce something that has the potential to bring the company millions of dollars if done well and create a great deal of scrutiny on the proposal team if not done well.
Then of course, there's the explicit reward of winning the work. Which may or may not bring a financial bonus as well. But always gives you an implicit sense of accomplishment that sometimes means even more than the explicit award itself. Even a losing proposal has an inherent reward, just for getting it done.
Part of the challenge is the need to be flexible, however. You develop a schedule. You plan for how the process is supposed to come together. And then you have to recognize that it's just never going to happen that way. No proposal has ever followed the schedule. Deadlines almost always have to slip. Sometimes you get good writing. More often than not, it's okay but needs to be tweaked substantially. And I don't care how long you have to work on a proposal, that last few days is always crazy as you try to corral the chaos into a final, compliant, and well-written document - or three.
Another challenge comes from my perfectionist side. No proposal is ever perfect. As many times as I read the pages, there's almost always something that slips through - a typo or the wrong word choice. There comes a point where you just have to let it go. To recognize that it's as good as it's going to get in the time allotted and the chaos that has ensued. My perfectionist self doesn't always like that, but it's a fact of the job.
The biggest challenge comes from the lack of control over my work life and the fact that all the planning in the world can't account for every crisis that may hit. My schedule is in constant flux. That makes it very hard to commit to anything outside of work. I have a friend who joined a local choir, and I thought that would be something I'd enjoy. But they have practice every Tuesday night, and I just can't promise that I'll be available every Tuesday. At some point in most proposals, working late into the evening just is required. On some proposals, it becomes more the rule than the exception. The same is true for doing volunteer work on the weekends. Some weekends, I can be reasonably certain that I won't have to work. And then a RFP will come out when it wasn't expected. Or the schedule for one I'm working will slip and the time will have to be made up using the weekends. Or in some cases, the proposal team just expects the weekends to be worked, though I try not to let that happen too often. So I can sign up for volunteer work, but I can't always make it in the end. And I can't commit to a certain number of hours a month. Because I never know how much time I'm really going to have.
The final challenge - and the one that's been keeping me up this week - is that proposals are always in the middle of a financial tug-of-war. Senior management and stockholders expect the business to grow at a certain rate every year. That growth cannot be composed of just growing existing work. It has to include new work, because inevitably some old programs are going to shrink or go away altogether. So we constantly need to respond to RFPs for new work. But there's a cost to responding, and that cost has to be covered by our profits. Because those of us who work exclusively on proposals don't bring in any money from working on programs. And it's the programs that generate income - direct income. Proposals are indirect work - work that may generate income, but may not. There's risk in that, and it's a balance that has to be managed carefully. You can't spend more money going after new work than is generated by the work you have. And yet, you are required to bring in new work all the time. So we have to try to squeeze in as much proposal work as we can for as little money as possible, and we need to limit the number of proposals we work that we don't win - because that's essentially wasted money spent. Realistically, companies know they can't win everything. But there's a percentage of winning that's expected, again to generate new work for the company and to cover the expense of getting the work in the first place.
Some days, I think I'm in the perfect job for me. And some days, I'm not so sure. But then again, that's true of most of life, isn't it?
Rewarding because if there's ever a process that needs a planner and someone to look after all the details, it's proposal management. The entire process is controlled chaos. Bringing together writing from a bunch of different people and trying to make it into a cohesive whole. Managing a schedule that is almost always ridiculously tight. Organizing a team of people, none of whom (or very few of whom) actually report to you. To produce something that has the potential to bring the company millions of dollars if done well and create a great deal of scrutiny on the proposal team if not done well.
Then of course, there's the explicit reward of winning the work. Which may or may not bring a financial bonus as well. But always gives you an implicit sense of accomplishment that sometimes means even more than the explicit award itself. Even a losing proposal has an inherent reward, just for getting it done.
Part of the challenge is the need to be flexible, however. You develop a schedule. You plan for how the process is supposed to come together. And then you have to recognize that it's just never going to happen that way. No proposal has ever followed the schedule. Deadlines almost always have to slip. Sometimes you get good writing. More often than not, it's okay but needs to be tweaked substantially. And I don't care how long you have to work on a proposal, that last few days is always crazy as you try to corral the chaos into a final, compliant, and well-written document - or three.
Another challenge comes from my perfectionist side. No proposal is ever perfect. As many times as I read the pages, there's almost always something that slips through - a typo or the wrong word choice. There comes a point where you just have to let it go. To recognize that it's as good as it's going to get in the time allotted and the chaos that has ensued. My perfectionist self doesn't always like that, but it's a fact of the job.
The biggest challenge comes from the lack of control over my work life and the fact that all the planning in the world can't account for every crisis that may hit. My schedule is in constant flux. That makes it very hard to commit to anything outside of work. I have a friend who joined a local choir, and I thought that would be something I'd enjoy. But they have practice every Tuesday night, and I just can't promise that I'll be available every Tuesday. At some point in most proposals, working late into the evening just is required. On some proposals, it becomes more the rule than the exception. The same is true for doing volunteer work on the weekends. Some weekends, I can be reasonably certain that I won't have to work. And then a RFP will come out when it wasn't expected. Or the schedule for one I'm working will slip and the time will have to be made up using the weekends. Or in some cases, the proposal team just expects the weekends to be worked, though I try not to let that happen too often. So I can sign up for volunteer work, but I can't always make it in the end. And I can't commit to a certain number of hours a month. Because I never know how much time I'm really going to have.
The final challenge - and the one that's been keeping me up this week - is that proposals are always in the middle of a financial tug-of-war. Senior management and stockholders expect the business to grow at a certain rate every year. That growth cannot be composed of just growing existing work. It has to include new work, because inevitably some old programs are going to shrink or go away altogether. So we constantly need to respond to RFPs for new work. But there's a cost to responding, and that cost has to be covered by our profits. Because those of us who work exclusively on proposals don't bring in any money from working on programs. And it's the programs that generate income - direct income. Proposals are indirect work - work that may generate income, but may not. There's risk in that, and it's a balance that has to be managed carefully. You can't spend more money going after new work than is generated by the work you have. And yet, you are required to bring in new work all the time. So we have to try to squeeze in as much proposal work as we can for as little money as possible, and we need to limit the number of proposals we work that we don't win - because that's essentially wasted money spent. Realistically, companies know they can't win everything. But there's a percentage of winning that's expected, again to generate new work for the company and to cover the expense of getting the work in the first place.
Some days, I think I'm in the perfect job for me. And some days, I'm not so sure. But then again, that's true of most of life, isn't it?
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Not An Auspicious Beginning
The new year has not been good for my health. I came down with a sore throat on New Year's Day. Since then, my cold has moved into my head. I'm hoping it doesn't make it down to my chest, but not convinced it's going to happen.
I'm not the only one who has started the new year without good health. Both my parents are sick as well. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's my father who gave me the cold. Dad is a day ahead of my mother in his cold, so he's mostly better today.
I talked to one of my cousins today. She's also been sick since the new year. Of course, she also saw my parents recently. I think my parents must have had a particularly virulent strain of cold.
My brother arrived from South Carolina on December 22 with a cold as well. He was pretty sick until Christmas, when he finally felt better. I don't think his cold is the same one that my parents have since he was gone before they got sick. I had thought I might get his cold since he was staying with me. But I dodged that particular bullet. Only to get hit by the next one.
Many of my colleagues have also started the new year sick. I could blame them for my cold or they could blame me for theirs, except that I haven't actually been in an office in the new year.
I worked at home until today. Today I was in a meeting in person with about 15 other people. I made a point of not shaking anyone's hand, but I did pass out my business card to a few people, so I'm concerned about them. I was one of several sick people in the room today, however. So we probably all shared our germs.
Because that's how it works. Human contact = germs. Happy New Year!
I'm not the only one who has started the new year without good health. Both my parents are sick as well. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's my father who gave me the cold. Dad is a day ahead of my mother in his cold, so he's mostly better today.
I talked to one of my cousins today. She's also been sick since the new year. Of course, she also saw my parents recently. I think my parents must have had a particularly virulent strain of cold.
My brother arrived from South Carolina on December 22 with a cold as well. He was pretty sick until Christmas, when he finally felt better. I don't think his cold is the same one that my parents have since he was gone before they got sick. I had thought I might get his cold since he was staying with me. But I dodged that particular bullet. Only to get hit by the next one.
Many of my colleagues have also started the new year sick. I could blame them for my cold or they could blame me for theirs, except that I haven't actually been in an office in the new year.
I worked at home until today. Today I was in a meeting in person with about 15 other people. I made a point of not shaking anyone's hand, but I did pass out my business card to a few people, so I'm concerned about them. I was one of several sick people in the room today, however. So we probably all shared our germs.
Because that's how it works. Human contact = germs. Happy New Year!
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