I’m failing, and I will get up

I am failing.  At least I feel like I am failing, so the end result is the same.  Stress and anxiety.

The good news is that I feel like I am failing in my professional life, not my personal life.  Plus, I am aware that I am failing.  I have had some instances in the past where I thought I was doing a good job, but those around me didn’t.  I would rather be “in the know” on this topic and not surprised at the end.

Feeling like a failure is no fun.  It really sucks, actually.  My confidence is tested, I question my judgement about most everything, my nerves are stretched, and I may, just may, have a small touch of paranoia.  (Now, I’ll be concerned that you all are talking about me behind my back after reading this post.  Hmmm….maybe should rethink posting this.)

While I am not enjoying this interlude, I am not fearful of it.  Some of the most important milestones and turning points in my life have happened as a result of a failure.

I have recently heard a lot of people around me say things like, “I refuse to fail” or “I will do anything to keep from failing” or the old standby “Failure is not an option” and I think “That’s unrealistic.”  And it’s a lost opportunity to grow.

I have learned more from my past failures than from any of my successes.  No lie.  As painful as they were when I was going through them, I know that I am a better person because of those failures.

I used to interview up to around 100 people per year for a training program.  One of my favorite questions to ask was “Tell me about a time when things didn’t go the way that you planned.”  A very open-ended question.  Most of the candidates that I interviewed were just out of college, looking for their first “real” job, so I heard lots of stories about group projects that weren’t smooth, or summer jobs that weren’t all that were promised and so forth.  I was interested in hearing how their project had gone awry and how they tried to mitigate, but I was always most interested and impressed by those who ended the answer by then saying, “And what that experience taught me was…..”  Yes, I used to think, someone who learned from adversity.

So, I’m in a super-sucky place right now.  I wonder what I’ll learn.  I’m really looking for a bright side here, and learning is it.  Smile at me, people, when you see me walking by, and just know–my brain cells are expanding from all the learning going on.


Completely and totally changing topics, I mentioned in my last post that I was going to start spicing up my tweets.

Did It.  By Accident.

My friend, Nikki, and I had dinner last night and we discussed how we didn’t understand all the selfies girls took these days where they were pooching out their lips, like duck lips.  So, today I tweeted Nikki a selfie of me doing the duck lip thing:

Screen Shot 2013-11-14 at 8.18.34 PM

Then I quickly had to tweet:

Screen Shot 2013-11-14 at 8.19.04 PM


I hate when I get my “d”s and “f”s confused.  It causes all kinds of issues.  Eh, in this case, however, it was probably ok either way.


Mysteries solved

I was driving to work on the interstate this morning when I noticed a bad smell.  A persistent bad smell.  As a girl who grew up in the country, I recognized it as cow manure.  It smelled like cow poop.

One mile passed, then two, but the smell maintained.

My dog, Louie, rides with me everyday.  I drop him off at doggie daycare (no comments, please, I’ve heard them all from Matt) while I go to work.

Louie on the way to work

Louie on the way to work

Thus, my natural first question after the smell persisted was, “Louie, are you farting back there?”  He didn’t reply, but I just didn’t think that it was him.

Then I started thinking that maybe I had stepped in something.  Or had run over a humongous cow patty that was making my car a roving stink bomb.  Or my upper lip was stinking.  Or (worse option of all) I was farting and didn’t even know it.

After about 10 miles of wondering where in the hell the stink was coming from I drove up behind and passed a semi-truck hauling a load of cattle.  I was so happy!  Not only was my bowel system not giving out, a mystery had been solved.

I LOVE when a mystery is solved.  I think that is why I love to watch true crime on TV so much — most of those shows are aired only after the mystery of who-dunit is answered.  I never liked America’s Most Wanted because the final act hadn’t been completed yet.  I like it when the pieces come together.

I always have felt this way.  Some of my favorite books growing up were Nancy Drew and Encyclopedia Brown.  Not knowing the answer makes me antsy and a little bit nervous.  I admit it — I pick up a book and read the first chapter or two, and then I skip to the back and skim the end.  I need to know — Does it have a happy ending?

I have thought to myself on several occasions that I can’t wait to get to Heaven just so that I can get answers to some of life’s biggest mysteries.  Like “Who was on the grassy knoll?”  My list of things that I want to know when I get to Heaven includes:

  1. What happened to the people of the Lost Colony?
  2. What happened to the dinosaurs?
  3. Who was Jack the Ripper?
  4. Is Professional Wrestling real?
  5. Is Politics in Washington real?  Has it ever been?
  6. Are there people on other planets?
  7. Is there a Big Foot and why does he look fuzzy in all his pictures?

I think that would give me some things to talk about for a long time.


I ate dinner with my friend, Nikki, the other night.  (**hi, Nikki**)  She knows that I have been feeling kinda down recently.  An extended illness, extended rainy weather and extended stress have created some blueness in my mood.  She brought me a card to make me feel better.




I felt better immediately.

And, she signed it with a Post-It, so I can give it to someone else.  That made me feel better, as well, in that I can share the joy.

Nikki–you are the best.