March 16, 2014

Unbelievably…this month marks 9 months of unemployment!

Remember the wildly popular, half hour-long HBO series, Sex & The City that chronicled the sexy exploits of New Yorkers? Carrie Bradshaw was a young New York writer who “explores the unique world of Manhattan’s dating scene, chronicling the mating habits of New York’s cultural elite as she looks for love in all the wrong places.” (That description courtesy of tv.yahoo.com.)  And do you remember when Carrie’s love interest of the moment, Berger, breaks up with her on a Post-it note?

Well…I was having breakfast Saturday morning at this little (tiny, really...) café in a tiny town with Mom and Harry called Greenwood’s Café.  I had just cut into my wonderfully delicious-looking French Toast when I picked up my iPhone to quickly check my emails. (It's an awful habit, but I need to stay connected right now.) There was an email update from LinkedIn. I opened it and read. There, right in front of me, was the announcement telling me that a colleague of mine, someone I knew, had been named to the position that I had applied for (and was still waiting to hear a decision on.) The interview had been in mid-August and an excruciating waiting period had followed, not to mention 7 more months of unemployment.

That scene…where Carrie finds the Post-it…came immediately to mind. Not, of course in the message of the note, but in the way in which something so critically important had been delivered.

Argh.

Greenwood's Cafe. 

I will admit that the person who should have told me the news did try to call me…once. We had agreed on a time window for a call mid-week, late afternoon, but I had been delayed at my sister’s, giving Harry a bath. I had really just missed the call.  He left a message…saying that he would call back later.  He didn’t.

I sent an email to him after breakfast, describing what had happened that morning, supposing that to be the reason he had tried to reach me. And left it at that.

That afternoon, the phone rang.

He went straight to the point. He messed up. (Although he used a much more colorful word in his declaration.) I have a great deal of respect for anyone who recognizes a mistake and tries to make it right beginning with a sincere apology. And his was sincere.                          

I was silent.

He continued.

He apologized rather fervently saying that he had really tried to prevent from happening, exactly what had happened. He explained that he “did call.”

I was silent again.

“I should have tried to call again.”

Yes, he should have. He really should have.

After I reiterated that it’s well…“really crummy” to find out what I did, the way I did (with his affirmation heard as I spoke), I accepted his apology.  We went on to have a good chat, talking about some of the other opportunities that I was pursuing.  I asked him a couple of questions about his decision, with the goal of trying to learn from the experience. He explained that I was a really strong contender, held in high regard and that it was a very difficult decision, but in the end, it was just that…a decision, and he was the one who had to make the final call. He did not choose me.

I’ve found that it is infinitely wise to try your best to accept decisions that are out of your control (especially ones that you are very emotionally attached to) with as much grace as you can muster.

Things happen for a reason.

Yes, I suppose they do. 

This position had the potential to have taken away a great deal of the time that I spend now with Harry.  The hours were long, the job very demanding and pretty unpredictable. I would have committed to it "heart and soul" as I have done with each position I have held in my career, but there is every possibility that it would have been a difficult balance to achieve – single parenting the joy of my life AND trying to deliver what I had promised in being committed to the position.  I would have done everything in my power to give both my all, and maybe I could have done it. But maybe Harry would have had less of me as a parent and I think that would have been hard to live with.

I think that there is something out there that will provide more of a balance for our little family’s particular needs. A place where I can contribute, and the organization will benefit from my experience and my skills, but where I can find the balance I need to be successful at both my job and parenting my child.

Harry is only 4 years old.

He needs me.

And I need to be with him.

That…is what is wonderful about being a parent.

March 17, 2014

US Cellular.  It’s like a new curse word.

I thought that they were the answer to my internet-connectivity prayers but they have only brought to light the harsh, cold reality of dealing with another not-so-customer-focused corporate entity. Our brief relationship will end soon by returning the hotspot device this afternoon, saying “goodbye” and oh, so...good riddance.

What a mess.

After spending a whole day last week trying to get connected and registered, I happily used my hotspot for ONE day, not even the whole day, but one day.  On Saturday, early afternoon, I got an alert on the device, after I had signed on to send some email, that I had used my data allotment, all 4 GB. 

Huh?

I had sent a few emails and looked at a couple of websites.

Seriously. That’s it?

I called their “customer support” line. Asked immediately for a supervisor and told the whole sordid tale of our little dalliance. I was told the rate was $30/month for 4GB, turns out it’s over $70/month for that plan. I wasn’t told that there is a $20/month fee for the hotspot device itself. There is. There were many other things, which I truly will not bore anyone with, that I was told and that were all turning out to be in grave error.

I was put on hold for a solid 6 or 7 minutes, but when Yolanda returned, she was contrite.  “I see that we have made mistake after mistake on this account.” I readily agreed. She apologized. It was nice to hear, but didn’t really offer a solution to my problem, except that when I said I wanted to cancel the account, she quickly helped me to do that, noting in the details that they would also agree to waive the “restocking fee” if I would drop the device at a US Cellular location.  I agreed. And that was that. Well…almost that.

I went to the store location in town, walked in, explained the story to the woman at the counter and said I was returning the device. She said I couldn’t return the device there, unless I had purchased it there.  Seems it’s a franchise, not, as she explained, a REAL US Cellular location. (I’m shaking my head right now.)  Real? Not real? It says US Cellular on the door, on the walls, on the carpet, on the displays…everywhere.

Seems I have to drive another 35 – 40 minutes and return the device to a real store.  So that’s how I’ll spend my afternoon.

I’m taking this all in stride. I just need to be done with this and move on to the ongoing challenge, which is, of course, Internet service at my Mother’s house!

Back to the drawing board...