Picture a squirrel (the stupidest of earth's creatures) trying to cross the road when a car is coming. This way! No, that way! No, back this way! No, quick, under the wheels, that's it! That's what my brain is like when I'm obsessing about something. At times like this I find cliches to be lifesavers I can grab on to. If I've lost the ability to reason I can at least repeat a string of words over and over. It's my version of meditation. Here are a few of my favorites:
"Do the next right thing." I didn't understand this one when I first heard it but it has become my "go to" phrase. It's a great way to interrupt the worry cycle. It means live in the moment. Whatever it is you should be doing when you're sitting there worrying, make yourself do it. If it's washing the dishes, then go wash the dishes. And when you're done with that, do the next thing you should be doing, and so on. Focus on a task and it will calm you.
"Everything will work out." Things always do. Maybe not the way we want them to, but they will work out in some way and worrying changes nothing. We can't force solutions, we can only make ourselves open to receiving them. The little voice inside can only be heard when the "room" is quiet. And frequently the things I worry might happen don't.
"You can stand me up at the gates of hell and I won't back down." It's a line from a Tom Petty song that I have adopted as my mission statement. It gives me strength. I just have to use it with care because I frequently try so hard to be strong that I forget to be flexible too. And flexiblility is also an important survival skill. There are reasons why dinosaurs and dodo birds aren't around anymore.
"No man (or woman) is an island." Sometimes I choke on this one because I have fought all my life to be self sufficient and not need anyone. I've been less vulnerable that way but there have been times it has been a lonely existence. I'm not sure I did myself any favors. Life seems to be much more rich when people know they can reach out to each other for help. I think the key is surrounding yourself with the right people and I'm very lucky at this point in my life to have that blessing.
Love to all my family and friends and thank you for being there.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
The best laid schemes of mice and men (and 50- something women)......Part I
The saying goes, "When life hands you lemons, make lemonade." Usually when I'm working with lemon juice, however, I have a cut on my hand and it's hard to get past the burning and focus on the lemonade. My current lemon is the need to have a hysterectomy. Surgery is scheduled in 3 days. It's not that I have any close spiritual attachment to my uterus. For the last few years it's just been one more thing to dust. But really God (if you're up there and I'm not convinced) could this come at a worse time? I'm a little busy right now trying to stay out of the soup kitchen. I realize worse things could have happened. My house could have blown away in the tornado or I could have been hit by a bus, but couldn't I just get over one hurdle without tripping? How am I going to get everything done that I need to do to open this store? WHEN will I be able to open this store? It's going to take all my strength and concentration to lie in bed and moan. Nobody is going to pay me to do that. Once I've recovered am I going to be as strong as I am now? Or am I going to disembowel myself vaginally when I try to lift something heavy? And what about bladder control, God? What's that going to be like? And by the way, the cats don't make very good nurses. I'll be lucky if they don't euthanize me. All kidding aside I've been really down about this. That's why I haven't written in a few weeks. I feel lost. And scared. The lying- awake- in- bed- worrying kind of scared. I have cried a bucket. I have "what iffed?" myself until I'm paralyzed. And now as I'm writing this I realize I've finally reached the emotional crossroad where I either give up or get up. I seem to need to totally wear myself out -- to be lying on the ground screaming "uncle"-- before I can quiet the inner chaos long enough to see a way out. I just needed to wallow in it for awhile. Now it's time to move ahead. I'll get back to you on that.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction
I promised an update on my meeting with the SCORE counselors, the small business mentors. But first, let me tell you how my day began. If it is any indication of how my future in business is going to play out, I should just turn and run now.
The clock was set for 7:00a.m. since the location was at least 45 minutes away and the meeting was set up for 10:00. I awoke to daylight and the bedside clock flashing. OMG the power went out. I vaguely remember hearing wind and rain during the night. I leapt out of bed. O.K., I stumbled out of bed. My 3 cats also stumbled out of bed and went immediately into feeding frenzy mode. Anyone who knows me knows I can't function until coffee has entered my bloodstream, so I clumped to the kitchen to start the coffee but...OMG the power was out. No coffee. Somebody dial 911! The feeding frenzy was getting louder. I managed to get the cat food can open because I feared for my life. Finally the mob was pacified and I clumped back to bed to reassess the situation. I needed to get ready for my meeting, but I refused to take a cold shower. More importantly I needed coffee. What to do? I'll heat some water on the stove! No, the friggin' power's out. I decided to report the power outage. Maybe I'd get lucky and they would just flip a switch. I clumped back to the kitchen to get the phone book. Then back to the bedroom. I flipped on the light so I could read the small print. Guess what. The light didn't come on. Why? Because the power was out. I found my flashlight. Yes the sun was coming up but when you're over 50 you need bright light to read small print. Finally I dialed the electric company. The recorded voice told me to enter my account number or my phone number. I punched in my phone number. "We're sorry. The number you have entered is not a number we have on file. Please enter your account number." (Are you f...ing kidding me?) I slammed down the phone. I clumped to my office where I have my bills filed. I flipped on the light so I could find my last electric bill. Guess what? The light didn't come on. Why? Because the power was out. (How many times do I have to tell you that?) About that time the phone rang. It was superboyfriend. He listened sympathetically to my tale of woe. When I was finished whining, he shared the priceless knowledge that there should be enough reserve hot water in the water heater tank for me to have a quick shower. I was saved! I could make my meeting without looking like a bag lady and swing by McDonalds for coffee on the way. Life was good again. Unfortunately superboyfriend had not shared this knowledge for free. He was out of town and wanted me to swing by his house on my way to the meeting to make sure the storm hadn't left a tree on his house. "Sure," I said sweetly while inside I was screaming "Nooooo. I don't have time!" Fast forward. I reported the power outage, ate breakfast, took my shower and got ready. I flew out of the house and into the garage, hit the garage door button and ... NOTHING. Why? Because the power was out. Would this never end? "O.K. Don't panic. I could raise the garage door manually. I wouldn't have to spend the day in the garage." Another crisis averted. I heave-hoed the garage door and noticed it had started to rain again. Great. That meant I would have to drive slower--in theory anyway. Finally I was on the way. By the time I got to superboyfriend's house it was pouring rain. I pulled up in the driveway and....the house alarm was going off. UhOh. This could be a problem. I called SB. "Has the alarm company called you because your alarm's ringing?" I asked intelligently. "Yes, the sheriff's department's on the way," he answered. "Walk around the house and see if anybody's tried to break in." I thought to myself, "O.K. It's raining, I'm in my nice clothes, and there may be a burglar in there. Why would I get out of my car?" I got out of my car. I walked around the house. I told him what a mess his yard was and that he really needed to cut down that tree that was leaning over his house. For some reason that was not appreciated. He kept asking if I'd checked this window, that window, this door and that door and we got into an argument about what door was what door. O.K. I was wet and I was done with this. All I needed was for the deputy to show up and think I was the one trying to break into the house. See ya. I got back in the car and looked at the clock. Great. I barely had enough time to get to the meeting without being late. "But what about the coffee? I need coffee," my little voice whined. "Be a grownup," I snapped. I reached the intersection heading out of town. Little voice grabbed the steering wheel and we went to McDonalds. I circled the building in the drivethru lane, paid, got the coffee, put up the window, and noticed that the drivethru lady was waving frantically at me. I put the window back down. "You forgot your change," she said. "This is why I need the coffee," I answered. Finally I hit the road. I was a little bit late but coffee nirvana was mine. I would just make up the time by speeding. No problem....Problem. Every farmer and school bus in the county was on the road. It was a tense drive to the meeting on a two lane road. Every time I passed one I got behind another one. After 45 minutes of this and all the caffeine in a large cup of coffee, I was dying to go to the bathroom. At last I got to my destination only to find that there had been an accident in front of the building and the entrance was blocked by a fire truck and police cars. (Really? Could this get any better?) I drove past the building and parked at the shopping center next door. I walked down the wet grassy hill and into the building still needing to go to the bathroom. By this time I was walking with my thighs together. I barely made it. Whew!! Thank God for not letting me wet my pants. All better, I found the room for the meeting. I heard voices coming from the open door. Somebody else was in there. I guessed they were just running a few minutes late, so I decided to just be patient. But 5 minutes later they were still going strong and it was now 15 minutes after 10:00. O.K. be assertive I told myself. I politely knocked on the doorframe and said, " Hi, I'm Elyse. I'm here for my 10:00 meeting." "Oh, no Ma'am, your appointment's for 11:00. (Just kill me.)
An hour later I did finally have my meeting and it was well worth the morning's aggravation. The counselors helped me tweak my plans and brought up things I hadn't even thought of. By the time we were done I had reading material, a "to do" list, and new confidence that I could actually succeed in business with this group behind me. I would recommend them to anybody trying to get started. S.C.O.R.E. is a great resource.
The clock was set for 7:00a.m. since the location was at least 45 minutes away and the meeting was set up for 10:00. I awoke to daylight and the bedside clock flashing. OMG the power went out. I vaguely remember hearing wind and rain during the night. I leapt out of bed. O.K., I stumbled out of bed. My 3 cats also stumbled out of bed and went immediately into feeding frenzy mode. Anyone who knows me knows I can't function until coffee has entered my bloodstream, so I clumped to the kitchen to start the coffee but...OMG the power was out. No coffee. Somebody dial 911! The feeding frenzy was getting louder. I managed to get the cat food can open because I feared for my life. Finally the mob was pacified and I clumped back to bed to reassess the situation. I needed to get ready for my meeting, but I refused to take a cold shower. More importantly I needed coffee. What to do? I'll heat some water on the stove! No, the friggin' power's out. I decided to report the power outage. Maybe I'd get lucky and they would just flip a switch. I clumped back to the kitchen to get the phone book. Then back to the bedroom. I flipped on the light so I could read the small print. Guess what. The light didn't come on. Why? Because the power was out. I found my flashlight. Yes the sun was coming up but when you're over 50 you need bright light to read small print. Finally I dialed the electric company. The recorded voice told me to enter my account number or my phone number. I punched in my phone number. "We're sorry. The number you have entered is not a number we have on file. Please enter your account number." (Are you f...ing kidding me?) I slammed down the phone. I clumped to my office where I have my bills filed. I flipped on the light so I could find my last electric bill. Guess what? The light didn't come on. Why? Because the power was out. (How many times do I have to tell you that?) About that time the phone rang. It was superboyfriend. He listened sympathetically to my tale of woe. When I was finished whining, he shared the priceless knowledge that there should be enough reserve hot water in the water heater tank for me to have a quick shower. I was saved! I could make my meeting without looking like a bag lady and swing by McDonalds for coffee on the way. Life was good again. Unfortunately superboyfriend had not shared this knowledge for free. He was out of town and wanted me to swing by his house on my way to the meeting to make sure the storm hadn't left a tree on his house. "Sure," I said sweetly while inside I was screaming "Nooooo. I don't have time!" Fast forward. I reported the power outage, ate breakfast, took my shower and got ready. I flew out of the house and into the garage, hit the garage door button and ... NOTHING. Why? Because the power was out. Would this never end? "O.K. Don't panic. I could raise the garage door manually. I wouldn't have to spend the day in the garage." Another crisis averted. I heave-hoed the garage door and noticed it had started to rain again. Great. That meant I would have to drive slower--in theory anyway. Finally I was on the way. By the time I got to superboyfriend's house it was pouring rain. I pulled up in the driveway and....the house alarm was going off. UhOh. This could be a problem. I called SB. "Has the alarm company called you because your alarm's ringing?" I asked intelligently. "Yes, the sheriff's department's on the way," he answered. "Walk around the house and see if anybody's tried to break in." I thought to myself, "O.K. It's raining, I'm in my nice clothes, and there may be a burglar in there. Why would I get out of my car?" I got out of my car. I walked around the house. I told him what a mess his yard was and that he really needed to cut down that tree that was leaning over his house. For some reason that was not appreciated. He kept asking if I'd checked this window, that window, this door and that door and we got into an argument about what door was what door. O.K. I was wet and I was done with this. All I needed was for the deputy to show up and think I was the one trying to break into the house. See ya. I got back in the car and looked at the clock. Great. I barely had enough time to get to the meeting without being late. "But what about the coffee? I need coffee," my little voice whined. "Be a grownup," I snapped. I reached the intersection heading out of town. Little voice grabbed the steering wheel and we went to McDonalds. I circled the building in the drivethru lane, paid, got the coffee, put up the window, and noticed that the drivethru lady was waving frantically at me. I put the window back down. "You forgot your change," she said. "This is why I need the coffee," I answered. Finally I hit the road. I was a little bit late but coffee nirvana was mine. I would just make up the time by speeding. No problem....Problem. Every farmer and school bus in the county was on the road. It was a tense drive to the meeting on a two lane road. Every time I passed one I got behind another one. After 45 minutes of this and all the caffeine in a large cup of coffee, I was dying to go to the bathroom. At last I got to my destination only to find that there had been an accident in front of the building and the entrance was blocked by a fire truck and police cars. (Really? Could this get any better?) I drove past the building and parked at the shopping center next door. I walked down the wet grassy hill and into the building still needing to go to the bathroom. By this time I was walking with my thighs together. I barely made it. Whew!! Thank God for not letting me wet my pants. All better, I found the room for the meeting. I heard voices coming from the open door. Somebody else was in there. I guessed they were just running a few minutes late, so I decided to just be patient. But 5 minutes later they were still going strong and it was now 15 minutes after 10:00. O.K. be assertive I told myself. I politely knocked on the doorframe and said, " Hi, I'm Elyse. I'm here for my 10:00 meeting." "Oh, no Ma'am, your appointment's for 11:00. (Just kill me.)
An hour later I did finally have my meeting and it was well worth the morning's aggravation. The counselors helped me tweak my plans and brought up things I hadn't even thought of. By the time we were done I had reading material, a "to do" list, and new confidence that I could actually succeed in business with this group behind me. I would recommend them to anybody trying to get started. S.C.O.R.E. is a great resource.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
A-Hunting We Will Go....
Next up. How was I going to transport all my wonderful treasures? My CRV can hold a lot when the back seats are down but probably not a couch. Could I strap it to the roof rack? (In my mind I relived the last time I tried to strap something to the roof rack. It was a an 8 foot sheet of panelling on a windy day. I got about 2 blocks from the store and in my rearview mirror I saw it take flight and go sailing off into a cemetary. Fortunately the people there were already dead.) Couch on a roof rack is probably not practical. Moving on I began the search for the proper vehicle. A work van seemed to make the most sense. Roomy in back and covered in case of bad weather or if I had to leave it packed overnight. Dan my superboyfriend and king of all things E Bay helped me look. We branched out to Autotrader.com, the classifieds, and Craigslist.com.
I learned about something called Carfax.com which lets you get the complete history of a car--maintenance, how many owners, collision history, etc.-- by entering the VIN number. My criteria were low cost, not too many miles, and never been wrecked. The first one that I was interested in got sold before I had a chance to look at it. When the second one came along a few days later I decided to move a little faster. It was located at a used car lot an hour away. Superboyfriend and I took off to see it in his Suburban which is the size of a small house. When we pulled up in the parking lot I said to him, "O.K. I want you to do all the talking since you're the wheelerdealer and I'm not. We'll pretend you're the one buying and I'm just along for the ride. Then if I decide I'm interested I'll just sign the papers at the end." Dan opened the car door and there below the level of the window sat the salesman in his motorized wheelchair. Didn't I feel stupid. I'm sure he heard everything I said. Anyway after spending the next half hour or so looking over the van we didn't have a good feeling about it. Scratch number two, but I did get a good lunch of chinese food out of the trip. While we were sitting in the restaurant eating Dan called about another van listed by the owner. It was located about a half hour's drive in another direction. What the hell. It was a lovely Saturday afternoon, so we decided to just make a triangle with our mileage. The owner of van #3 was an elderly gentleman who had used it in his handyman business. He was in the process of moving back to his home in Connecticut and leaving in 4 days.
It had more miles on it than I wanted, but he gave me a good price, and he had put a new engine in it when he bought it. Equally important I liked him. When we met he shook my hand and gave me a Werthers candy.
Note to self: You catch more flies with sugar than vinegar. It doesn't cost anything to be nice. That goes a long way in business. I'm now the proud owner of a 1997 Ford Econoline 250 and he's safely back in Connecticut. I got a thankyou note a week later. Hopefully I made the right decision.
I learned about something called Carfax.com which lets you get the complete history of a car--maintenance, how many owners, collision history, etc.-- by entering the VIN number. My criteria were low cost, not too many miles, and never been wrecked. The first one that I was interested in got sold before I had a chance to look at it. When the second one came along a few days later I decided to move a little faster. It was located at a used car lot an hour away. Superboyfriend and I took off to see it in his Suburban which is the size of a small house. When we pulled up in the parking lot I said to him, "O.K. I want you to do all the talking since you're the wheelerdealer and I'm not. We'll pretend you're the one buying and I'm just along for the ride. Then if I decide I'm interested I'll just sign the papers at the end." Dan opened the car door and there below the level of the window sat the salesman in his motorized wheelchair. Didn't I feel stupid. I'm sure he heard everything I said. Anyway after spending the next half hour or so looking over the van we didn't have a good feeling about it. Scratch number two, but I did get a good lunch of chinese food out of the trip. While we were sitting in the restaurant eating Dan called about another van listed by the owner. It was located about a half hour's drive in another direction. What the hell. It was a lovely Saturday afternoon, so we decided to just make a triangle with our mileage. The owner of van #3 was an elderly gentleman who had used it in his handyman business. He was in the process of moving back to his home in Connecticut and leaving in 4 days.
It had more miles on it than I wanted, but he gave me a good price, and he had put a new engine in it when he bought it. Equally important I liked him. When we met he shook my hand and gave me a Werthers candy.
Note to self: You catch more flies with sugar than vinegar. It doesn't cost anything to be nice. That goes a long way in business. I'm now the proud owner of a 1997 Ford Econoline 250 and he's safely back in Connecticut. I got a thankyou note a week later. Hopefully I made the right decision.
Friday, April 8, 2011
A Journey of a Thousand Miles Starts With a Single Step
Did I mention I know nothing about running a business? The closest I've come was working as a desk clerk in Howard Johnsons in my very early adulthood. Not exactly an MBA. O.K., no problem. I've got 4-6 weeks to learn everything I need to know to open the shop in early May. Yikes. I don't even know what I don't know. Thank goodness for friends. Just mention you need something and they come through in all kinds of wonderful ways. That's how I found out about S.C.O.R.E, a national nonprofit organization of retired business people who volunteer their help to small business owners. Their website is http://www.score.org/ and they have downloadable information as well as free seminars and counseling. The marketing seminar I attended 2 weeks ago was very helpful and one of the attendees had recently started a graphic arts business, so now I have someone to design my logo and business cards. Double bonus. I've also made an appointment with a counselor to discuss a business plan. More on that in a future post. Other sources of business education I came across that are low cost or no cost were community colleges, the online program http://www.ed2go.com/ and chambers of commerce.
After committing to this whole idea of starting a business, the first dilemna that came into focus on my radar screen was WHERE? Finding the right space is huge. Not only in terms of pedestrian traffic but location in a community where your idea will be understood and supported. It is also important to consider your personal work flow needs within the space. With these thoughts in mind, I measured, consulted demographics, and quietly observed. I spent some time on the streets with the people who lived there and got a feel for the businesses that were thriving and why they were popular. I tried to picture myself as both customer and owner of my business and what I would want as each one. This slowcooking mental stew ultimately condensed into 102 Hillsboro Street, Pittsboro, North Carolina 27312 and I think it's going to be perfect! (After it's cleaned, the plaster is patched, it's painted, and something's done about the floors.)
After committing to this whole idea of starting a business, the first dilemna that came into focus on my radar screen was WHERE? Finding the right space is huge. Not only in terms of pedestrian traffic but location in a community where your idea will be understood and supported. It is also important to consider your personal work flow needs within the space. With these thoughts in mind, I measured, consulted demographics, and quietly observed. I spent some time on the streets with the people who lived there and got a feel for the businesses that were thriving and why they were popular. I tried to picture myself as both customer and owner of my business and what I would want as each one. This slowcooking mental stew ultimately condensed into 102 Hillsboro Street, Pittsboro, North Carolina 27312 and I think it's going to be perfect! (After it's cleaned, the plaster is patched, it's painted, and something's done about the floors.)
Sunday, April 3, 2011
If Nothing Ever Changes, Then Nothing Ever Changes
Back in the day it was "Dear Diary" and it was private. Now suddenly everybody and everything's been outted and it's like walking around in your underwear. If there's a positive side to this maybe it's that we will find out we are all more alike than different.
Hi and welcome to my blog. My name's Elyse. This is the tale of how I came to be 55 almost 56, divorced several times not intending to remarry, and on the verge of starting a new career that I know nothing about. I have one week left at my job of 17 years in a health care field I've been in since 1984. Is this the result of downsizing in a struggling economy? No I did it to myself. I drew my line in the sand, my employer stepped over it and I quit. OMG! What the hell was I thinking, or not thinking, at a time when so many people are out of work? All I can say is it feels right. I stood up for myself and what was important to me. Now what's the plan?
For a few years now I've spent a lot of time daydreaming about coming up with some brilliant invention that I could market and make enough money to quit my regular job and retire early. While this process was an enjoyable way to spend time it was quite low-yield. It wasn't that I was unhappy at my job, just bored. A side effect of modern times and long life is that we do the same job for so many years that it quits being challenging. And when the challenge is gone it's not satisfying anymore and no fun.
In the immediate aftermath of quitting my job I was looking to see what jobs were available in my field. I dug out my original post college resume that was so ancient it gave my height and weight under vital statistics--not even legal to discuss anymore. (Wow, did I really weigh "that" in 1984?) But I digress. The resume laid on the kitchen counter for a few weeks waiting to be updated. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. The truth was I didn't want to be the same show on a different station, so I started a conversation with that small voice inside. After much discussion we've decided to open a store. (What?! Where'd that come from?!) The small voice reminded me how much I enjoy finding treasures at thrift shops, auctions, flea markets, etc. It reminded me that I walk through my house sideways now because it is full of these treasures, as is the storage building I bought and the garage. "Perhaps you could make a living at this," the voice said . "Not to mention return your house to its former state." " Hmmm, worth a try," I said. Fortunately I have some savings in the bank and I'm due an income tax refund. Stay tuned.
Hi and welcome to my blog. My name's Elyse. This is the tale of how I came to be 55 almost 56, divorced several times not intending to remarry, and on the verge of starting a new career that I know nothing about. I have one week left at my job of 17 years in a health care field I've been in since 1984. Is this the result of downsizing in a struggling economy? No I did it to myself. I drew my line in the sand, my employer stepped over it and I quit. OMG! What the hell was I thinking, or not thinking, at a time when so many people are out of work? All I can say is it feels right. I stood up for myself and what was important to me. Now what's the plan?
For a few years now I've spent a lot of time daydreaming about coming up with some brilliant invention that I could market and make enough money to quit my regular job and retire early. While this process was an enjoyable way to spend time it was quite low-yield. It wasn't that I was unhappy at my job, just bored. A side effect of modern times and long life is that we do the same job for so many years that it quits being challenging. And when the challenge is gone it's not satisfying anymore and no fun.
In the immediate aftermath of quitting my job I was looking to see what jobs were available in my field. I dug out my original post college resume that was so ancient it gave my height and weight under vital statistics--not even legal to discuss anymore. (Wow, did I really weigh "that" in 1984?) But I digress. The resume laid on the kitchen counter for a few weeks waiting to be updated. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. The truth was I didn't want to be the same show on a different station, so I started a conversation with that small voice inside. After much discussion we've decided to open a store. (What?! Where'd that come from?!) The small voice reminded me how much I enjoy finding treasures at thrift shops, auctions, flea markets, etc. It reminded me that I walk through my house sideways now because it is full of these treasures, as is the storage building I bought and the garage. "Perhaps you could make a living at this," the voice said . "Not to mention return your house to its former state." " Hmmm, worth a try," I said. Fortunately I have some savings in the bank and I'm due an income tax refund. Stay tuned.
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