It’s been a rough 90 days, integrating back into the working world.  At least one day a week, I have to really hunker down and fight off the urge to quit.  Once you quit a high-paying job, like I did last year, it’s much easier to do it a second time.  When I don’t find myself downright pissed off, I try to laugh at the Dilbertness of it all.

Yeah, that’s hard.  It’s just not that funny when it’s your life.

The best part of the new job is that my boss went to a lot of effort to find me a place to sit where there is almost no foot traffic.  I’ve realized that I am far more sensitive to everything than I want to be and having a quiet spot is truly priceless.  I don’t have this weird need for "face time" like so many of my peers – maybe because I don’t buy in to the career path theory.  I really want to be under the radar as much as possible.  No recognition; no reward; just getting the job done.

There are good moments and I’ve made some new friends.  But mostly I’m refilling my bank account and hoping I can stick with it long enough to feed myself for a while after I quit again.  I told my husband I would try to stay for five years, but after the first five days I realized that probably wouldn’t happen.

The commute averages 70 minutes a day, round trip.  It’s a lot of stop-and-go highway traffic.  I don’t really mind it, but that kind of driving makes me nervous about having little fender-bender accidents.  I listen to NPR and try not to give the bird to the countless people who cut me off and then honk at me for good measure.  I’m not an aggressive driver, but that’s more due to the car I drive than my own personality.  There is a reason I chose a four-cylinder engine – it’s for your safety as well as mine.

There is a bit about working that makes everything else surreal, particularly when you head upwards of 60 hours a week.  At first I could do no more than eat and sleep and work.  It was all-consuming.  Now it’s just consuming.  Some days I can eat, sleep, work and read.  Today, I ate, slept, worked and wrote.  

Today is a good day.

Ask me how I know.

I rarely have to swallow my pride. I liked to think of myself as being far more self-aware than the rest of those pride-swallowers out there.

Then the economy disappeared, and then I started a very long search for a job, and then I realized my best opportunity would be to go back to work for the company I unceremoniously left a year ago.

And now I have to swallow my pride and let me tell you, it tastes like a big ol’ shit sandwich.

When I left that company, I gave the usual notice and didn’t burn any bridges. I didn’t leave for greener pastures and I told them that. I’ve been self-employed since I left, but the term is somewhat of a misnomer if you were to look at my tax return. I kept in touch with several good friends, one of whom is going to be my new boss. So, you’d think it wouldn’t be that difficult to go back.

Wrongo.

It feels humiliating. It feels like people expected me to go do some really Big Thing when I left and by coming back they will all see that I Am A Failure. Oh wait – that’s not what PEOPLE expected – that’s what I expected.

I didn’t do some really Big Thing. I did a lot of Small Things and went from being unbelievably stressed out to content. It’s been one of the best years of my entire life, in large part because I didn’t have a job.

Now that I have to go back to exactly where I was a year ago, a landslide of very sharp and heavy rocks has just buried my soul. The part where I feel lucky to find employment right now is missing. I know I need to find it, and find it quick. If you’ve seen it, leave me a note.

I’ve never been a huge spender, but there are some things I really miss.

5.  Towels.  I only have one matching set and they are getting raggy.  Of course they still work, so I can’t really justify going out and getting new ones just to make the bathroom look pretty.  But I’d really like to retire the ones we’re using to the dogs and get some that are big, soft, and have all their threads where they were meant to be.

4.  Underthings.  See Towels.

3.  A professional haircut.  Yes, I’ve been cutting my own hair.  It’s a mess but you can’t really tell unless you happen to be in the business.  I pity the person who gets to clean it up.

2.  A car wash.  I used to buy a car wash a few times a month when I’d fill up with gas.  I haven’t done that in at least a year now.  When it rains, I try to get the car outside to wash off the grime.  Unfortunately, it hasn’t rained in Denver for a loooong time now.

1.  Shoes.  Just a few pairs.  I haven’t bought shoes in almost two years.  I’m talking about dress shoes – I have one pair each of black, brown and blue.  I’d love a red pair.  With a pointy toe.  Kitten heel.  Size 9.  Wide. 

My grandma passed away 10 years ago, and my grandpa has been doing a good job of living independently since then. For a guy who was born in 1922, he’s still pretty sharp and he’s darn funny.

I’ve been packing the strangest things. I think there’s something about having lived through the Great Depression that has left a generation of people who save everthing just in case it might come in handy in 2011. I’m not allowed to throw these things away. On Monday he wrestled a piece of cardboard away from me as I was headed for the trashbag. "Wait! I can use that!" Needless to say, I acquiesed immediately. Few things are less fun than wresling with an 86-year-old man.

As I was trying to organize and pack yet another "miscellaneous drawer", I found an empty paper-towel tube. Bearing in mind the cardboard experience, I looked it over carefully. On the outside was written, "Head of Christ".

Yes, imagine my surprise.

Unfortunately, the tube was empty. I went through the rest of the drawer looking for His Head. Nothing! Knowing I couldn’t just throw it away, I had to say these dreaded seven words:

"Grandpa, I’ve lost the Head of Christ."

Did I mention he’s a bit hard of hearing?

"WHAT????" he asked. Now, I can’t tell if this is shock at what I’ve said, or just that he didn’t hear it.

"Grandpa, I’ve lost THE HEAD OF CHRIST!" I yelled. This time I showed him the empty tube, looking through the vast interior that did not contain His, or any, head.

"The WHAT???" he asked, again. Then the lightbulb came on, almost as blinding as if His Head had actually appeared.

"OH! That was for the prints of my drawing," he said, pointing towards the portrait of Jesus that he made several decades ago. My grandpa is a very talented artist, and had just drawn Jesus from the neck up. Several family members wanted a copy, so he had stored extra prints rolled up inside this tube. Of course.

We’re saving the tube for 2011, but the fact that it’s marked Head of Christ may limit its potential.

I met (virtually) Zen master Mary Jaksch last year when I had the good luck to find her blog, Goodlife Zen.  I was intrigued by the topics she wrote about and the active community of commenters.  Since that time, Mary has been given the coveted position of Chief Editor at Leo Babauta’s Write to Done blog while still writing for her own blog and guest posting around the internet.  I don’t know how she manages to do all this and stay sane, but her latest guest post on Zen Habits , How to Find Islands of Ease in the Chaos of Life, gives us a look into some of her methods.

Finding this article couldn’t have come at a better time for me (synchronicity, anyone?) because I have been unusually preoccupied with things that I don’t even like to think about.  Things like why haven’t I had a single interview after sending out more than 50 resume’s.  Things like what will I do once my retirement fund has been spent paying bills.  These thoughts have started to tear at my sense of connectivity with the greater universe.

Reading Mary’s article has started to stich that sense back together a bit.  Putting her suggestions into practice will not be easy for me, but the truth of what she says is so obvious that even a stubborn goose like myself can see it.  I’m actually going to shut down my computer after posting this and take my dogs for a walk on this beautiful, 60-degree day in Denver!

No, it’s not because I’m germ-phobic or have a tendency towards hypercleanliness.  It’s also not because I think bleach smells really good. 

The reason I smell like bleach is because, twice a week, I volunteer at the Denver Dumb Friends League.  The DDFL is a local animal shelter, established in 1910.  In 2007, they adopted out 14,557 dogs and cats.  They’re the largest non-profit animal shelter in the Rocky Mountain region.

The DDFL is an "open-admission" shelter, which means that they do not, ever, turn an animal away.

EVER.

They accept any animal, 24×7, for any reason and under any circumstances.  They work with other organizations and local farms to take animals that they can not house on-site.  They have a place for people to leave their animals anonymously, at night, in kennels that always have warmth and water at the ready.  They have extremely kind people who work with you if you have to relinquish your pet.  (For the record, I am not one of those people.  That falls into the category of things Annie is not capable of doing.)

Here’s the rub:  Animal shelters can either be "no-kill" or they can be "open-admission".  They can’t do both.  This means that the DDFL must euthanize animals.  I happen to think that this is awful and horrible and tragic.  So do they.  So does everyone who volunteers and works there. 

"…  the reality is that there is not enough space and money to accommodate all of them. We humanely euthanize those animals—primarily cats—that are not chosen by new families. We also euthanize aggressive animals—primarily dogs—that are determined to be a potential threat to the community and those sick or injured animals that are unrehabilitatable given our resource limitations."  DDFL website

My job at the shelter is to take care of cats and kittens that are too sick or too small (or both) to be adopted.  There is a large Foster Care facility where we nurse these kids back to health and then send them up to the adoption floor.  I also take care of the small animals:  rabbits, ferrets, hamsters, mice, rats and the occasional parakeet and chinchilla.  For all of these animals, my job involves feeding, loving, watering, loving more, changing papers, petting and more love.  Somewhere in this list I work a lot with bleach.  My car smells like bleach.  My clothes have bleach stains on them.  My hands will smell like bleach even after I take a shower. 

I don’t mind the smell.  It reminds me of the furry lives I help to save.  I urge you to do the same (save furry lives, not smell like bleach).  If you can, please

• Microchip, tag and collar your pets.
• Spay or neuter your pets.
• Tell people that keeping cats inside keeps cats alive.
• For the love of God, adopt your next pet from a shelter.
• Support legislation to control commercial breeders.
• Donate to a local animal shelter.

If you’re broke like me, volunteer your time.  Trust me, you’ll get used to the smell.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
The network came alive with clicks from my mouse;
The articles were written, submitted with care,
In hopes that Google would soon be there;

The keywords were nestled all snug on the page,
When search engine robots leapt from their cage;
Finding my backlinks like breadcrumbs laid,
Tiny spiders on the path I had made.

When out on the net there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.
Away to the browser I flew like a flash,
Spilling my coffee with a loud crash.

The moon on the edge of the MacBook Pro
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But organic search traffic, that much was clear.

Without any pay per click, so very frugal,
I knew in a moment it must be Google.
More rapid than eagles its coursers they came,
And it whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Sphinn! now, Digg! now, Twitter and Stumble!
On Squidoo, on Reddit! On Friendfeed and Tumblr!
To the top of the page! To the number one spot!
Secret algorithms, show us what’s hot!"

The sweat and the tears, the niches I’d lost,
Domains unused, keywords tossed;
The hours of staring at Samurai red;
Those days are over, or so Google said.

E-books and newsletters and membership sales,
And a shiny new list brimming with emails.
Laying my finger aside of my nose,
I gave a quick nod, from the chair I rose.

I skipped to the kitchen with my empty mug,
Stopping on the way to give the family a hug.
I whispered to my kids as I held them tight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

… than go job-hunting.  And yet, that’s exactly what I find myself doing these days.  I’ve never been a savvy networker, so reaching out to all two of them didn’t take as much time as I thought.  A lot of my freelancing work lately has been writing resumes, so I feel pretty comfortable in that area.  And I just got a haircut, so I’m ready for that Go-Getter-Middle-Aged-Female interview. 

(I am now officially nauseous). 

I signed up on the job boards and found the Usual Suspects in terms of working in the tech field in Denver.  I was surprised to see so many jobs, given the news we are all reading about cuts here, slashes there, layoffs everywhere.  Perhaps these are job postings that will never get filled – I’ve certainly seen that happen before.  But that doesn’t keep me from hitting "Apply Now" button and sending off my Only Slightly Exaggerated Resume to about a dozen employers.

When I left the corporate world, I thought there was about a 50% chance I would never go back.  I’d blame the current economic crisis, but that really hasn’t been a big factor.  The truth is that I was good at what I did, and despite a burning desire to work for myself, I’m not good at marketing my own skills.  There’s another part to this that I’ll talk more about some other day – I had also hoped that I would be able to find something I was really passionate about once I eliminated the stress and noise of a corporate job. 

That didn’t happen.  And I really, really worked on it.  I went to workshops, read books, meditated, kept a journal, drank lots of wine and even did some yoga.  I can say that my stress level is so low that sometimes I have to eat a piece of candy just to be sure I’m still alive.  But the passion thing – it just didn’t happen for me. 

So, any job-hunting advice out there? 

Know your strongest quality. 

Know your preeminent gift – cultivate it and it will assist the rest. 

Everyone would have excelled in something if he had known his strong point. 

Notice in what quality you surpass and take charge of that. 

In some people judgement excels, in others valor. 

Most do violence to their natural aptitude and thus attain superiority in nothing. 

Time enlightens us too late of what was first only a flattering of the passions.

The Art of Worldly Wisdom, #34, Baltasar Gracián (1601 – 1658)

Can you believe this was true 400 years ago?   I so enjoy how he describes our tendency to ignore our passion as "doing violence to it".  And the result is that you suck.  (That’s my modern interpretation).  And then the next line reminds us that we knew all along what our passion was.  We felt it land on our arm, walk around a bit (what’s that tickle?), and then we just swatted it away.

Probably more than once.

What natural aptitude have you done violence to?  Have you managed to ressurect and heal it yet, or is it still wedged in the crosshairs of your flyswatter?

Disclaimer time:  Lynn is testing a pay-per-post social media marketing idea and I will probably be getting paid a small gratuity for this post.  I told her that if she didn’t pay me, I would write it anyway.  So there – I really showed her, huh!

She wrote an article this weekend that I really want to share with you.  In Starting a Free Online Business, Lynn talks about going to lunch with some gals who she hooked up with on MySpace.  Lynn knows how to use MySpace.  I don’t.  The only fun thing I’ve discovered about MySpace is a typing game.  I’m a crazy-fast typist and crazy-competitive by nature, so the game really hits my sweet spot.   But I digress…

So Lynn meets up with these ladies and starts explaining some of the ways you can make money online:  Selling your own products or services; and promoting other people’s products and services.  The latter idea appealed to Lynn’s new friends, and to me as well, because it involves passive income.  Lynn is quick to point out that you can’t get up one day and decide to start getting passive income:

"To clarify, when I say passive I dont mean that you wont have to work at it. I think we’ve all kind of figured out by now that “get rich quick schemes” dont really work. And we were discussing real, legitimate ways to make consistent income online. "

That’s the secret in a nutshell, folks – you have to work at it.  It takes a lot of work to create a situation where you can make money while you eat bon-bons by the pool.  So much work, in fact, that a lot of people simply turn back to traditional ways of making money.  We all know how to go to the office for 8-24 hours a day and bring home a paycheck.  Lynn wants to teach you something different and she goes to great lengths to explain it to you.  If you think you’re too new at this to understand what she’s teaching, you’re wrong.  Lynn know a lot of technical mumbo jumbo but thankfully, she keeps that stuff to herself.  Instead, she just tells you what you need to know, in very simple terms.  Got a question?  She’ll answer it.  Personally.

The archives on Lynn’s site walk you through every step of setting up your own online business.  I could happily spend days digging around in her site.  However, the post I mentioned earlier, Starting a Free Online Business, has links to all the necessary "first steps" of creating that business.  She also links to some other very well-known tutorials by Jeremy Palmer about selling other people’s products (a.k.a affiliate marketing).  This single article has everything you need to get started.  I hope you enjoy it, and getting to know Lynn, as much as I do!

P.S.  Here’s the money part of the post:  LYNN ROCKS!  LYNN ROCKS!  LYNN ROCKS!

P.P.S.  Note to self:  Charge per color.