Dollars & Sense

I’ve determined unless you’re an absolutely complete moron, then money can literally buy anything you want, including a doctoral degree. Maybe not a doctoral degree for an actual medical doctor but definitely one like I’m getting. Really. Because if the way some of my classmates write is any indication of their ability to form coherent sentences and be decent human beings, then money must be the reason they’ve made it this far. Sorry not sorry. Here I am stressing a dissertation I don’t even have to begin for another year and they’re writing like a sixth grader. Spoiler: we’ll probably all walk the stage at the same time which proves my suspicion that money can buy a degree.

You know what else money can buy? Pizza! And it makes me happy, too.

Money can also buy replacement body parts, especially when Spare Parts still hasn’t come through on the slightly used knees. Mine are starting to look and feel like I either make a living in the red light district or this volleyball hobby is getting the best of me. They’re so bruised I’ve been afraid to wear shorts to work lest someone question my evening habits or tell me I’m too old to play sports. Cue the daughter jokes again.

our most recent photo together

Lastly, speaking of jokes, it’s impolite to stare at someone in a public setting, then loudly proclaim, “Oh good, I found the other one!” as if twins are an unheard of phenomenon. We are not a scavenger hunt. I really don’t understand the fascination. Parts and I don’t even look that much alike! And, I know of at least one other set of twins (identical) who also work on the installation. Maybe they have better luck than Parts and I.

And by luck I mean people don’t stare like they’re a circus act. Or at least say hello first!

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I ask you –

Do you think money can buy anything?

On a scale of 1 to you’re insane if you don’t love it, how much do you like pizza?

Please share your advice or comeback phrases for the shock & awe twin encounters!

(The post Go Fast Shoes! first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Always Making Plans

Results of the volleyball game(s) I elicited my staff to play with me. Game 1: win. Game 2: default win/by. Game 3: loss. Not sure about anyone else, but I had a fantastic time!

So much fun, in fact, by the time you’re reading this, we’re just a few hours short of another volleyball game I scheduled because…I can. My plan this summer is to write papers in early morning hours, then play volleyball in the afternoons! Can’t forget all those books I want to read, too.

Additionally, at the time of this posting, I’ll have started another class: Organizational Leadership and Behavior and something else and so forth. I swear I take this seriously. I need some volleyball shorts. Random.

Coming off an incredibly busy weekend + Mother’s Day has me exhausted. It seems like everyone was sick last week, there wasn’t a day without at least one call-in, and my wingwoman was voiceless. Pity I had to do all the talking for her. And I really can’t believe my niece is old enough for prom, much less about to graduate in a few weeks. I held her in my arms what feels like yesterday – how did we get here?

What’s that saying about babies don’t keep? They don’t. And I don’t like it much.

_______________________________

I ask you –

Are you a fan of volleyball?

Want to join my team?

Tell me if you have an upcoming graduation to attend!

(The post Always Making Plans first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

This is My Face

It’s official. No matter what I do, I give off mom vibes. To my coworkers, Spare Parts, and everyone else I’m around.

For example, Parts tells everyone I’m her mom and they believe her. She’s the oldest twin! Even prior to this – which is how the whole story got started – a coworker I knew had met Parts and asked if she knew me, then proceeded to ask Parts if I was her mother. FFS.

we’re not related at all

Example #2: my coworker/best friend/wingwoman McK and I went to a presentation. Someone whom I knew asked me if McK was my daughter. At first, I thought they had heard the stories of Parts. Oh no, they were serious.

CMSgt Bass and McK, my other daughter (apparently)

Example #3: the same wingwoman and I went to an appointment for her. Unfortunately, McK had a bout of laryngitis so I did the speaking for her since she could only whisper. As they took her to the back, the nurses asked did she want her mother to come? McK kindly declined but I HEARD IT ALL!

Soon I’ll be accepting suggestions for plastic surgery and a Botox provider. But maybe it’s not my face. Maybe it’s my attitude, the way I take charge and speak first. If that’s the case, then I’m doomed to forever be everyone’s mom.

Seriously, though, these expensive facial products are clearly not helping. Lies!

________________

I ask you –

Have you ever been mistaken for someone’s parent?

Do you think some people just give off a certain aura?

Now taking suggestions for plastic surgery. I need your input, please!

(The post This is My Face first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

People. Not Programs.

Sometimes we need a reminder that many (most) of us are surrounded by people and the importance of being a leader is one not to be taken lightly. As it is appraisal season in the fairytale land of federal government employment, it’s time for me to administer them. While my own was a pleasant experience and nearly always has been, predecessors have royally convoluted the process and make it seem like a dirty word. It can be disheartening to build trust and camaraderie when employees are fearful, distrustful, and generally blah (which is definitely a scientific word). Often I find myself correcting others when I’m referred to as a manager. That’s not me. I strive to be a leader of people and a manager of programs. People are our mission; programs are our resource.

All this being said – work has posed some challenges lately. Seems this course on human resources and the legalities surrounding it have taken a toll on my decision-making skills. Not necessarily in a bad way; just that I’ve repeatedly questioned whether or not I’m doing the right thing. Turns out I think I have. But still.

So far, these are my (and by “my” I mean I didn’t do much…the team did) shining moments: hosted a staff meeting that included a rousing game of volleyball of which I am (ongoing) healing from; established 24/7 access to a gym that did not previously have this amenity, and completed a 3 week streak of consistent call-ins yet managed to recover. I can’t understand why my award-writing skills aren’t cutting it. Just another example of how supervising people and managing programs can be rewarding in itself.

As for the volleyball part of this post, we’ve decided to develop a team complete with custom shirts, wildly inappropriate shorts, and substantially-lacking coach mentorship. At this point in the proverbial game, we have about 11 months to start practicing. Nothing can stand in our way!

Until I receive the phone call asking if someone can bring in their inflatable gymnastics mat. Do what?

_____________________

I ask you –

Do you supervise anyone in your workplace?

Have you ever played volleyball?

Tell me your thoughts on leadership versus management.

(The post People. Not Programs. first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Stumper and Stumpee

As soon as I saw the email solicitation to attend a visit by a two-star General, admittedly I got a little excited. Not only is she a wonderful speaker but she has made waves as a pioneering female with a knack for telling it how it is. The day finally arrived, amidst lots of venue changes and confusion on the attendee list. I had my ticket and I was ready.

Let me preface the remainder of this post: upholding my unofficial call sign was not my intention. However, this was designed to be a dialogue-forum type of event. With at least 150 people. Right. The facilitator had a list of questions she asked, then the floor opened for other questions. My hand instinctively shot up.

My original question had already been asked by the facilitator. I switched on the fly. Then something unexpected happened. Maj Gen Edmondson turned on me! Instead of answering, she posed the question to me. Again, I was forced to think on the fly. That’s not my forte. I’m a planner. Fortunately, the rephrased question was met with a heartfelt and genuine response about how such a successful and ambitious woman is able to stay connected with her children while navigating a fast-paced, highly visible, demanding job. She spoke of being present at home and carving out time to connect with her teenage daughter. She mentioned being a “gymnastics mom” which she stated is unlike anything she is comfortable with. For me, it was important to be reminded that all moms, no matter where or what they do, struggle with the same issues…missing events, getting home late, having to choose between what is attainable and what is not.

As the audience was heavily military, maybe civilians didn’t feel she was relatable. However, having once worn a uniform, she and I are alike. I suspect many others in the audience are, as well, even if no question was asked. I feel I represented my squadron well, but, more importantly, her answer united many people in what we are capable of, as mothers, as people, as part of the military.

Perhaps I did not showcase “Stumper” this time. But, I did take an opportunity to be seen by a woman whom I admire from afar. And she said the word balance is total BS. I couldn’t agree more.

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I ask you –

Do you attend work functions deemed “forum-type”?

Are you the first to ask a question?

Planner vs. Spontaneous: tell me about you!

(The post Stumper and Stumpee first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Busy is not a Badge

Backstory: the position above me has been vacant since I accepted my current job. Not a big deal. Sure, the workload has been maximized because those job tasks fell on me and another manager. Really – the entire workload fell to everyone. Nonetheless, hiring for that position has been much needed. Typical of the federal workforce, I could churn butter faster than expecting a decision to be made.

Of course I applied for that job, even though I’d only been in my position for 4 months. Because, why not. So when I found out I didn’t get the job, I was a little disappointed for a moment. Now, writing and reflecting on it in the days after, I’m actually very thankful. Prioritizing my own health, fitness, to-do list, school, and a million other tasks has been challenging. Don’t get me wrong: I have an incredible wingwoman and staff that make it all worth it. I enjoy responsibility. However, it sure will be nice when I can unload a few things off my plate.

Minus the week away from school and the return to 124 emails, I was feeling stressed about not “jumping back in” to everything. I found myself leisurely writing the first assignment, forgetting to prioritize my workouts, and generally not trying very hard. Then, I read an article about how society places being busy as a value everyone should strive to obtain. News flash. Even I was guilty of portraying this value to others, specifically my staff. How many times have I said just look busy? Perhaps it’s not the same as to look busy vs be busy but I said it nonetheless.

That week away refreshed me, gave me renewed purpose, and reconnected me to someone I love beyond words. I needed it. Needed. My soul needed it. However, as a type A, it can be so difficult to embrace not being busy.

Often, I must remind myself: the badge of being busy does not equate to value, to actually accomplishing anything, and it certainly shouldn’t define a life with purpose. If busy is indeed a badge, then it’s time to rethink how often I wear it. Maybe just special occasions.

_________________

I ask you –

Is being busy also your badge of honor?

Are you a type A? B? Is there a C?

Share with me how you prioritize yourself!

(The post Busy is not a Badge first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Hello, fun? Where are you?

“Your expectations lead to your disappointment.” At least, that’s what I heard right before my phone started ringing one early morning with work issues.

Shortly afterwards, I was ruing every small step toward agreeing to be a supervisor. It will be fun, they said. You have so much experience, they also said. It’s not that hard. Right. Where is this fun I was promised? Excuse me, I’m ready for the fun part. Maybe fun isn’t the most accurate depiction of what I’m looking for. But I don’t really know.

flower time!

Unrelated: Is “foot stomp” a redundancy? Because stomping implies using the feet. During a training session last week, I guess to reiterate the material, the speaker said “foot stomp” at least 3 times. Now I can’t help but to wonder if it’s another one of those buzzwords the military and society in general likes to use. Excessively.

This is the final week of classes. A glorious 10 days of no school work awaits me. My hope is by the time this post is published I will have submitted the final discussion post replies and put away all my textbooks. Except for the one I have to return. Note to self: figure that part out pronto. I’m escaping reality for a few short days and then I shall return refreshed for another 8 weeks of papers.

Barring how many telephone calls I receive for advice and complaints. Join the club. Somebody has to do it.

___________________________

I ask you –

Do your expectations actually lead to your disappointments?

Foot stomp: redundancy or no?

Tell me what you do to escape!

(The post Hello, fun? Where are you? first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Miss Big Mouth

Let’s overcomplicate things, shall we? Most definitely rhetorical sarcasm. I inquired about some training I need to satisfy an additional duty at work. The answer I received was this: it should only be an hour or two. Well, which is it?! And what do you mean by “only”?

In referencing additional duties – the Navy calls them collateral duties – an argument ensued between my team and an individual over the concept of additional duty vs primary duty. I thought it was self-explanatory but I was wrong. You see, everyone has additional duties. Military, civilian, contractors, all of us. So when someone uses the phrase this is my additional duty, it hits me wrong because we all have them, aka it’s not an excuse to disregard the duty. Next time, I’ll draw pictures.

How to make a corsage. Step 1: don’t. Hire your sister. Or mother. Depends. But this is what she gets for volunteering to make my niece’s prom corsage. Hope she’s keeping notes. Her additional duty.

When I wake up at the butt crack of dawn to finish a paper and discussion post so I can focus on a different paper of a million words and a gazillion pages – that’s a primary duty. Does this require any further explanation?

No questions please. The demonstration is over.

______________________________

I ask you –

What is the civilian terminology for additional or collateral duties?

Are you creative enough to make a corsage? Definitely not.

Tell me the page length of the longest document you’ve ever written!

(The post Miss Big Mouth first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

On a Lighter Note

The unofficial holiday nicknamed take your child to work day happened recently. I do believe it is a holiday.

From party time to petting the de facto fitness mascot to playing a rousing game of racquetball, I think the day was a success. She also acquired some new relatives. Meet Aunt Tim. It’s hard to find good help so I guess she’s hired.

She also added 3 extra days to my calendar which I didn’t notice until the following morning. When does February have 31 days?! It makes sense – she adds gray hair to my head, eternal sighs of weariness, and calendar days. Why not. To me, it felt like the longest day ever but as she was falling asleep that night, she exclaimed it was her favorite day ever and when could we do it again.

I’m just thankful my office phone hasn’t worked in …going on… 18 days now. Because if it had been, good grief.

___________________________

I ask you –

Have you ever taken your child(ren) to work? How did that work out?

Is having an inoperable office phone really a bad thing? Rhetorical, of course.

Tell me a few things the people in your life give you! example, a hard time

(The post On a Lighter Note first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Food Stuff

My coworker and I have a debate on the level of over doneness for hardboiled eggs.

To me the photo above is a masterpiece of perfection. She thinks I couldn’t be further from the truth.

Cereal and Greek yogurt on repeat. Sometimes I crave it when I’m up late writing. I also found a chocolate (keto) cereal that pairs so well, too. Add frozen blueberries. Trust me.

Keto ice cream and brownies. I’m seeing a pattern of cold, sweet things. But at least I can eat while I type! Keto does good things for me and I don’t mind foregoing sugar. There are many substitutes so as long as you can deal with the restrictions, then it’s not so bad.

Same note, different song: I exploded a hardboiled egg in the microwave a few days after I took the first photo on this post. I’m sure my coworker will say that wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t already been overcooked. Of course, she likes them smooshy and 2 seconds past runny. Ewwwww.

_____________________________

I ask you –

How “done” do you like your eggs?

Have you tried yogurt and cereal? I guess it’s similar to yogurt and granola.

Tell me a time you blew something up in the microwave!

(The post Food Stuff first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)