Last year there was a heat wave.

I was working at my 3rd job in 12 months, and it was hot.

More importantly, the air conditioning had gone out. And the office was so so hot.

I had bought an orchid for the office. I figured it would be nice for people to look at, and it would be a topic of conversation if one was needed.

It would also be a sympathetic magic object. I wanted to have life and beauty and growth in this new job. The orchid had those things, so perhaps would I.

People commented frequently on how long the orchid lasted.

It had bloomed beautifully for 8 weeks when the air conditioning broke.

but after three days of 100+ degrees of heat, a flower dropped.

I knew that this job was not going well. My boss invented reasons to ridicule me, and to prevent me from getting the information I needed to do the work she had assigned me.

So, after I had finished a phone call with a client, and stood in front of the fan for a moment, I looked over at the dropped flower. Some of the other staff were also standing in front of the fan, and they once more remarked on how long the orchid had lasted and asked my secret.

As we talked, the boss came out.

“What are you doing?”

I was surprised at her tone. “We were checking out the plant.”

“What are you DOING?”

All the other staff scattered.

“Well, I had finished helping Client X with the problem we discussed earlier, and I was taking a break in front of the fan.”

“What are you doing?”

I tilted my head. She repeated, “Do you understand what I mean? What are you doing?”

She turned back to her office.

I was hollowed and undressed with this treatment. I followed her to her office. “I don’t understand. Is there something you need to tell me?”

“I am asking you. What are you doing?”

I stood looking straight in her eyes.

Then I walked back to my cube.

I thought about quitting. I thought that perhaps I should just walk about.

I thought about what this job was, and what I hoped to do. I knew I could do it.

I thought about all the reasons this boss didn’t want me to do it.

I decided to stay.

I waited two hours, then I went and talked to her.

“After what you said to me earlier, I am wondering if I should be here.”

“Well, that is something to consider.”

We talked further and came to a ceasefire.

And I still wanted with all my heart to do that thing I had been hired to do.

She fired me. Right after I made the first prototype of the system I was supposed to create.

Not because the system was bad (I KNEW it was awesome!).

But because she said “You don’t fit here.”

My orchid lasted longer in that workplace than I did.

I blew it. At least, that’s what my boss was telling me. I sure felt like I blew it.

Maybe I did. Things had gone off track, that’s for sure.

I was used to this feeling, like a pair of old pants. Slide them on, smooth as that, no struggle and I was sure I had screwed the pooch.

I couldn’t fix it. We couldn’t go back in time. So I sat in my stinky pants feeling terrible.

I didn’t want to feel terrible. I halfway tried to find people who would help me feel better.

It wasn’t until I was driving home that I remembered:

Bosses make mistakes too. All the time.

Amy Cuddy’s book Presence talks about how we imagine the people who have more responsibility. That the higher up the org chart, the more stress, and the harder they work. We imagine that it is very hard, and we begrudge their superior pay and benefits less.

In reality, people who have more responsibility actually have less stress.

Because people who are confident–that special cocktail of testosterone, cortisol and moxie–they are more confident and less concerned about pleasing.

I spent years beating myself over mistakes. What if I just stopped?

I could shed it. I could decide to allow myself a huge number of mistakes, as many as it took, to do what needed to be done.

And maybe what needs to be done is to become a different person. To shed this perfectionist skin and emerge entirely different.

You know you snakes shed their skin? By beating their heads against a rock to rough and loosen it up.

I’ve been beating my head against an immovable object. Maybe I’m finally ready to slough off these scales and re-emerge.

Mistakes are my friend. I’m gonna see how that works out.

Someone described our connections to our cell phones as addict behavior

We sleep with them, we always a want them close to us, they are the first and last things we do in our day.

The cell phone…or its other name a computer…is not itself the charge, the draw. It’s all that connection and information.

Were we always addicted to that? I think we are wired to be addicted to connection.

I was totally focussed on exciting things this weekend, long term things I was looking forward to.

That made for a really good mood.

Then I got dread-ish on Sunday night.

I DID NOT WANT THAT!

So I took it seriously. I spend years of expanding sunday night dread. It got to the point of the sunday night dread lasting all week.

NO NO NO

SO I decided to think about all the things I was going to do right, instead of the things i might do wrong.

it helped.

It was a busy day today

And HOT.

It got up into the triple digits all of a sudden.

THere were a set of crises at work, and then some personal goals I had to move forward.

And then a party. Veronica’s school had an end-of-the-year party, with a DJ

I would have enjoyed it more if it hadn’t been so hot.

And still it was amazing.

Then we came home to put an exhausted and over excited daughter to bed.

FINALLY I get to be with my husband. And we have a lot of exciting things to talk about.

and I’m tired too. but I don’t want to stop talking.

That’s a pretty good day.

Something happened today. I could tell you what but it doesn’t matter. The specifics are unique and oh so uniform.

Someone said something that made me doubt myself.

There is a Greek chorus in my head waiting to perform when I doubt myself.

They were on a power ballad of JUST how much I suck, how irredeemable and intolerable I am.

I called someone. 

That helped a little. Then I talked to a person in my vicinity. That helped a little more.

My hands got cold and my shoulders clenched.

I didn’t want to feel that way.

Why did I fall right into that self doubt? A very familiar bog. I know it’s stenchy pools well

I was desperate for someone else to give me affirmation. 

“You’re ok”

I wasn’t giving it to myself.

So the tepid conversations I’d had didn’t do it.

I guess sometimes I’m going to fall in the mud.

I will try to have some mercy on myself. I need it especially right then

Someone asked me what my job was yesterday.

I said I help import consumer electronics and musical instruments from China.

“That’s cool!”

Hm. I guess it is.

I haven’t written about my jobby job directly on this blog in a long time. I felt gagged for a long time, and then before that a little wary of being indiscreet.

But. This part of my job is not indiscreet.

When I am working with a team in China, they are on a different time zone, and a different day.

Thursday, therefore, is special.

I think often of the Truman Capote, and his words in Breakfast at Tiffany’s

Holly Golightly: Thursday! It can’t be! It’s too gruesome!

Thursday in California is the last workday in china. I must make sure to get whatever communications that are necessary to the China team on Thursday, because on Friday it will be Saturday in China.

Thursday has extra franticness…and Friday is a little calmer.

Monday is 2 days worth of emails.

That’s the day today. A little gruesome.

It’s been a meme on the Internet for at least a decade. There was even a hit song made out of it. It ends with “dance like no one is watching.”

Me? I like to dance like everyone is watching. I love to dance and I am not shy.

But I get it. Expressions of joy and creativity are frightening, and it is often easier to imagine you are alone.

My daughter had a talent show last week. We heard about it last minute, and she had already said what she wanted.

“I want to sing.” And she wanted to sing her own song.

“It should start out romantic, and then turn rocky.”

Daddy handed her off to me.

I was going to help her write a song, an original song to make her vision come true.

Yes, it was impossible and ridiculous.

But if she wanted to do it, I was going to make it happen.

I found a sound track that was free for re-use and close enough to what she wanted.

The biggest constraint was that the talent show only allowed 3 minutes. But the track fit that constraint.

Next were words. I asked her what she wanted to sing about.

“The starry night. And how the moon is beautiful. I am in love with the moon and I want to marry the moon.”

So I gave her a microphone (a prop) and let her freestyle it.

She sang low, and it wasn’t her best singing. She can sing better than that.

So we took it through again, and I had her sing higher. That was a little better.

We talked about what sorts of words she could sing. She had a lot of ideas. I tried to see if we could hone in on a few.

We did practice repeating phrases throughout. It was pretty great! She just said the same thing, but it was melodic.

She said she wanted to sing whatever she was thinking.
“But won’t you be nervous, and forget what you were going to say when you are in front of people?”

She thought about that.

So we practiced a few nights.

Then the talent show happened.

She was not nervous. She sang what was on her mind, straight into the real microphone. She did sing low and off key, like I’d been trying to help her avoid. Yet she had her hand on her hip, and did spontaneous twirls where appropriate.

She sang and danced like everyone was looking, because that was exactly what she wanted.

Afterwards, she solicited fans.

“Mommy! I have 6 fans!”

Not once was she shy or embarrassed.

That talent show was a safe place. She didn’t have to fool herself into thinking no one was listening. She knew that everyone was listening and everyone loved it, loved her.

I would that the whole world could be that for all of us.

Seth Godin says that everyone should write in their blog daily.

i used to do that.

I stopped because people stopped coming.

But just because i”m not on a stage doesn’t mean i stop singing. I sing in stairwells and walkiing down the hall.

I dont’ know. Maybe I should start blogging daily again.

It could be fun.

I stayed out late last night hanging with friends learning more about totem animals.

So I got home late and didn’t fall asleep till about 1 AM.

Veronica woke up at 5:30 she was awake she wanted to watch TV. She had had a bad dream I could see that she was tired. I knew I was tired.

She had had a bad dream. I could see that she was tired. I knew I was tired.

So I tried to help her get back to sleep.

It was tough. She knew what she wanted, to watch TV. I thought I could help her get back to sleep she kept arguing that the sun was up.

I gave her some milk and graham crackers after 45 minutes. She still wanted to stay awake. Our bargain was she would try to sleep.

She started crying and said I don’t know how. So I held her on my lap. She lay her head on my shoulder. I told her the story of the tiger I knew, that this tiger was strong and powerful. And the tiger told me I was strong. Then she really started crying and said “I don’t feel powerful.”

I told her I thought she was powerful, but my heart was breaking how do I help her?

I wrapped My bathrobe around her and she quietly laid her head on my shoulder. I waited five minutes and then put her back in her bed.

We all slept until 9 AM

Of course Chris is still sleeping. But it reminded me of when she was very little, and how I am grateful that she mostly falls asleep on her own. I am sad that she doesn’t feel powerful.

Maybe she feels more powerful in the daytime, and less powerful right after a nightmare.