I logged into LinkedIn this morning to check my messages and the top of my newsfeed was a former co-worker who had just updated her title to VP of Global Talent. I’m embarrassed to admit, my initial response was not positive—it was more of a punch in the gut.
The hectic lifestyle, exorbitant expenses and unrealistic expectations make being a modern parent exhausting. I won’t even mention how babies are huge assholes—oh wait, maybe I just did. But come on, they’re demanding tyrants with deplorable communication skills.
I’ve been feeling a bit numb all afternoon, trying to process the end of my furry friend’s existence. Death is so final. I’m reminded it will happen to me someday too and everyone I care about.
I’ve managed to maintain a strong workout routine, which at nine weeks is about 7 weeks longer than any past attempt at fitness.
Momentum is a weird thing. Get moving in a positive direction and it’s your best friend. Start down a bad path, and it’s your worst enemy.
When I was a kid, I loved the Fisher-Price Little People. I had the farm, house, Sesame Street, A-Frame and house boat, just to name a few. All of these sets were inherited from my brother, Jeremy, and were well-worn with more than a few missing parts.
I lost two pounds! And more importantly I’m feeling more positive about working out again.
Instead of continuing the pity party I started yesterday, I woke up this morning with fresh perspective and decided to figure out a way to reinvigorate my exercise routine. I quickly realized this meant I had to do something I’ve been putting off for more than two years—take a class at Yoga Studio 43.
Being married to me can’t be easy. I spread myself too thin, I’m always running into people I know and pausing to chat, it’s a guess from one day to the next if I’ll be high or low and I have lofty, often pie-in-the-sky goals. Frequently, those goals are more challenging to meet than I anticipate and I fall flat on my face.
Damn, I’m getting discouraged. So much so, I’ve been considering dropping this entire deal and burying my head in a bag of movie theater popcorn.
So what’s my beef with SHRM19 and other HR conventions? Well, I’ll tell you. The ideas and concepts discussed there are the only things to happen in Vegas that actually stay in Vegas.
