I had a really awful sales call today. The potential client was one that I had called upon once, briefly, two weeks previous, then sent a follow up email. The prospect had replied to my email asking for more info and for me to stop by his place. Since I had not had any prior conversations with this prospect, I was flying blind, and wanted to get a better idea of his goals. This is a common step, and is usually a great way to build rapport and develop a proposal together. So, with this in mind, and at his request, I showed up today at the appointed time, and into the line of fire. He was confrontational, rude, denegrated my profession, and the call ended with me awkwardly making my exit.
Filed under: Economy, Health | Tags: free market, health insurance, herbal remedy
Today my boss “forced” me to go to the Emergency Room for an abscess on my foot. You see, I live in SW FL, and we have some nasty little boogers out here. I didn’t know if I was bitten by a bug, had an ingrown hair, or a flesh-eating staph infection. All I know is that my foot went from being a size 7 to a 10 in the past couple of days.
The thing is, I don’t have insurance. In my old job, I had health insurance. Every year, I would receive my 2-3% salary increase at the same time I received my 20% health insurance premium increase. My last position that offered health insurance was kind enough to cover up to 60% of my premiums, but I would have to cover 100% for my family. In other words, I would not get a paycheck. I kindly declined their “generous” benefit. Finally, I had enough. I decided to study herbal medicine, scour the internet for home remedies, and treat myself.
I get it – honestly, I really get it. Businesses can’t afford to cover the ever increasing insurance premiums along with the taxes and my salary. I get it. What I don’t get is the lame-ass argument that government backed health insurance or government run health care is somehow sub-standard. Maybe it is, but what I know is that I just incurred a $400 bill for a doctor to look at my abscess, tell me I had a slight fever, and give me a prescription for antibiotics.You see, I had already been draining my sore, applying heat to draw out the pus, using Neosporin to heal the sore, and using ice to help the swelling. I think the lesson I learned today was simply that I should continue to do what I was doing all along.
I do not wish to denegrate doctors. I suppose they too are captives in this ridiculous game that we all play here in America. You know, it’s the one that advocates a free market, while victimizing the weakest of its citizens. When I don’t have insurance, I don’t care about long waits, treatment denied, or whether or not my favorite doctor is able to help me. All I want is to make sure my foot isn’t going to rot off from some exotic bacteria.Thanks to our “free market” I got that today…for $400.
I need to find a job that allows me the ultimate freedom to do as I please. I’m thinking something along the lines of parents taking care of me, without the stress of parents’ rules. Or maybe, a kept woman without the expectations. Or a stay at home mom without the kids. Somewhere along the way I decided to be a career woman, but I get burned out frequently. What stinks is that I am very motivated & capable of hard work. I just need long periods of rest. I don’t want to be home all the time, and I really like money. I just want to work as long as I’m motivated, then rest as long as I want. Somehow I keep falling into the Mon-Fri trap. Saturday and Sunday are just never enough. I need a break!
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: adultery, Buddhism, Catholic, Church, God, Hindu, Jewish, Morman, Paganish, religion, suicide, Wicca
I was born to a Catholic mother and a formerly Presbyterian father. Neither parent was particularly religious, though both believed in God. When we moved to Utah, Daddy converted us to Mormanism. He really immersed us in the culture in Salt Lake City, and I have only fond memories of the kind, hard-working and very large families that I played with. When we finally moved to Florida when I was 10, Daddy dabbled with several churches, but we essentially stopped going. When we did, it was sporadic and half-hearted.
I suppose because I never really knew my mom’s side of the family in my early years, and only vaguely remember a Mass in Latin, it held some kind of allure for me. It was exotic with the incense and wine and candles. I was told that my grandma didn’t like cards because they were evil, which I found strange since my Dad’s family always played cards. What I couldn’t stand was intolerance and hypocrisy. I thought the crying preachers on TV were offensive, and I never really believed in HEAVEN and HELL as I was taught.
After my divorce, when I was about 22 or so, I converted to Catholicism. It was important to me that my children were christened in the church. Dad always told me that if you believed in God and He didn’t exist, you lived a good life, but if you didn’t believe & He did exist, you were in big trouble. Maybe that’s the wrong way to look at it, but it seemed to make sense to me. I loved the Catholic church. I loved the long Mass and the singing and the fact that no matter which church you visited, you knew the words. I loved the Confessional, and I loved the church looked. I never felt connected to Protestant churches the way that I did in the Catholic church. Surely, God would live in a Catholic church if He were at any church.
My first blow to my faith came when I met my current husband. Without going into details, suffice it to say that he was not “acceptable” as a spouse as far as the Church was concerned. My feelings for the man that I feel for were so deep and true that I knew that God made us for one another. I gradually stopped attending services as we got closer to one another.
The next and final blow came when my sister committed suicide. The church can forgive most anything: murder, adultery, even an abortion if you express penitence, BUT NEVER SUICIDE. The problem was, I just did not feel that Heather, after living a Hell on earth, was being further victimized in an imaginary place called Hell. I could feel her. I could sense that she was ok. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but she visited me in a dream, and she was happy. That was the end of church for me.
After Heather’s death, I did a lot of thinking and reading about God. I studied Buddhism, spoke with my Jewish friends, read about Hinduism, studied Paganism and Wiccan religions, and finally settled on my own beliefs.
I believe in God as an ever-pervasive spirit and intelligent being. I believe that God is like a collective unconscious and that we are all connected as living beings. I believe that science has proven that we are energy and the first lesson we learn is that energy can never be destroyed, only change form. That is what I believe happens to us and every other being in the world. I believe that the church (insert religion here:______) was developed as a means to control society, and in most cases, is weighted heavily toward the dominance of men over women. I believe that we have the personal power in our lives to get anything we want simply by asking and believing, and that the church wants desperately to suppress that personal power because it will diminish the power of the church. Finally, I believe that at the base of every religion is the Golden Rule: “Do as to others as you would have them do unto you,” “An it harms none, do what ye will,” “What is sent out, comes back,”…in other words, KARMA.
I did not intend to delve into religion. That is such a hot button issue, and frankly, a personal decision. I expect no converts, nor do I wish to insult or diminish another’s choice. This is simply what I have come to believe.
I am the oldest sibling of two. This was a burden that was drilled into me time and again. “Be nice to your sister.” “One day, you will be all that you have.” “Take care of your sister, Kandace. You’re the one in charge.” I vacillated between pride and resentment.
Heather was always a bit “too much.” Her voice was too loud, her personality too strong, her looks, too pretty, her needs, too great. She was beautiful, and her friends loved her with a passion that my friends never quite had for me. She was a butterfly: lovely, a joy, and too delicate to last. I always resented that she never trusted her sister to help her with her many school problems, but threw herself on the mercy of friends and classmates that were both loyal and cruel.
Over the years, Heather married, had children, and traveled places that I only dreamed of. Unfortunately, her demons were as great as her joys. It became a familiar family refrain, “What is Heather doing now?” We clucked our tongues as we bailed her out yet again. I always thought we would one day make up when we were older and things in our lives calmed down. We called each other sporadically, saw each other every couple of years, and stayed in touch through our mother.
Oct 24, 2007…I was sitting in my car in my driveway, ready to pull out to head to work. Mom called with the news that my sister had overdosed and was dead. It was four days after her 31st birthday. I will not go into my pain. My baby sister was dead, and any hopes that I held for “one day” were gone.
I went to bed last night around 10pm – the average time for me as a working mom. As I was laying in my bed, waiting for sleep to descend, I heard the wind whistling outside, and suddenly I remembered something I had forgotten for years.
When I was about 12 years old, through a strange sequence of events, I found myself living with my grandmother in Big Pine Key, FL. Like much of our neighborhood, we lived in a trailer on a canal. These homes were the homes purchased by the WWII generation in the 60s and 70s for next to nothing, and by the early 90s, were going for $200,000+. I remember walking to the bus stop in the mornings and being chased by mosquitoes. I remember the strange buzzing sound of bugs in the woods as I walked to my friend’s house and the eerie feeling that I was in a Tales From the Darkside scene. What I remember most vividly, though, was the warm trade winds at night buffeting our home.
There were so many nights that I would sneak out of the house into our backyard, the white rocks pressing into my bare feet, as I made my way to the canal. I would climb onto Daddy’s sailboat, and lay back on the bow. The warm air smelled of the scarlet Hibiscus that grew in a wild, carefree fashion about the yard. I would gaze up at the bright stars and dream of the future as the soft summer breeze caressed me.
I don’t suppose I have a moral of this particular posting. I just wanted to share a lovely memory of long ago that snuck into my mind last night. It’s fascinating how the most innocuous incidents can effect you.
Filed under: Uncategorized
I come from a long line of competitive people. It doesn’t matter the game: poker, UNO, Monopoly, Scabble, Checkers, Chess. What should be a fun family game night often turned into a bloodbath. You either jumped in and took your shots, or you were quickly side-lined. I remember my dear old grandma would sandbag me in UNO with ill-concealed glee. My Dad would tell me he was building character as I had to draw another 4 cards from the deck. My Aunt would attempt alliances, but all bets were off if it meant coming in second place. I love the tale of my Mom almost stabbing my Dad in the hand with a fork when he gloated just a bit too long after he won. Our family was like living with all of the drama and suspense of a great Shakespearean play. A favorite saying in my family was, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” What I didn’t realize then was just how true that was.
I am quite sure my upbringing helped direct me into sales. There is nothing I love more than the dance that is done with a prospect. There is the identification of the target, the reconnaissance, the careful wooing…it’s long, slow seduction culminating in the sweet success of a closed sale. Of course, that is only the beginning. At this point, many salespeople diverge depending upon their industry. There are the one-night stand salespeople who disappear after the close. There are the butterflies that light upon thousands of accounts and never quite delve very deep with any of them. Then there are my personal choice: the Account Managers. We are the ones who begin with the careful wooing, then the deal, and finally, the marriage. We are the ones who learn about every aspect of our chosen partner’s business, and clean up after the messes. And like a marriage partner, we jealously guard our territory from any usurpers.
This is what leads me to the fight that inevitably happens – particularly when you have a prime account. You expect it from competitors, but it stings when it is your own co-workers. It starts with a new rep popping into your account’s office, dropping subtle hints, and trying to make your client doubt your service. “Oh, they didn’t tell you about this deal? Oh, you didn’t know about this? Oh, that person has only been with the company a brief time, etc.” Think of them as the cute stranger at the bar flirting with your spouse every time you look away. An Account Manager has to be ever vigilant against these types, but it is oh, so sweet when your client defends you.
Today, I am proud to say, I successfully defended against one of these strangers, and I was victorious. I know that I won’t always win, but for now, I feel really great!
Filed under: Economy | Tags: Cape Coral, Economy, FL, Ft Myers, life, luxury homes, real estate, waterfront
I have made several decisions in my life that look like spontaneous and economically dangerous decisions. Some friends and family members believe that several of these decisions were absolutely insane.
Foolish decision #1: I decided to get married at 18 right before graduating from high school. Was it foolish? Absolutely! Was it a mistake? Without a doubt! Am I sorry? Hell no! By getting married to a Marine at 18, I was able to get out of my mom’s house, move to California, and most importantly, I had my beautiful son. Add to that, it also gave me the kick in the rear that I needed to get into college.
Foolish decision #2: Leaving my job in advertising after 5 years for direct sales. Again, it was a dangerous move, and yes, it did have economic repercussions. I had a “safe and secure” job. I had a retirement policy, and I had a customer base that loved me. The reasons for leaving now are really unimportant other than the fact that I felt I had to move on. In hind-sight, though, my job would have been in serious jeopardy since it was in the newspaper industry, and many of my previous coworkers have been let go. I have also built a far more diverse resume that has opened doors that would have been closed to me before.
Foolish decision #3: This is the most recent, and I have yet to have the benefit of hind sight. I left my home in Charleston, SC after almost 14 years to begin again in Bokeelia, FL. I had never even heard of this place. I quite literally picked it off of the map because I liked the way it looked. It took me a month or so to find a job, and yes, my home is not what it was back in Charleston. What I have found, though, is a tropical paradise. The weather is consistently wonderful. The wildlife is diverse and the plants are exotic. I live 5 miles from a site ripped from a Corona Beer commercial. The people are laid back and friendly. I have moved from my home to find my heart.
Ironically, it is right outside of Cape Coral and Fort Myers – two cities hard hit by the current economic downturn. Driving to work, I see vast areas with homes sitting empty. I see commerical shops in beautiful new buildings just waiting for life. It is like a model home community before the opening date. In North Ft Myers, there are luxury waterfront condos going for less than $100,000. A home in Cape Coral can run $40,000. A trailer for sale on Pine Island is a mere $2,000. We are 2 hours from Disney World! These are two cities holding their breath and waiting.
Perhaps in a few years, I will be able to look back and see that this move that I made purely on an intuitive level was the best decision of my life.
I am a naturally upbeat person. I always see the glass half full and firmly believe that tomorrow is another day. It is with this natural outlook that I keep waiting for the end of the pervasive pessimism in the world today. Yes, we are in recession. I know this because I struggle financially, have an spouse who was laid off, and who has been unable to find a new job. I know because I cannot escape the on-going drumbeat of negativity.
In an effort to stay informed, I listen to NPR, watch CNN, read NY Times, scan the headlines as I play on Facebook. It is a colossal endeavor to sift through the dooms-day scenarios. Where was the budgetary alarm last year? Where was the anger directed at the wealthy when we were approving tax breaks? Is it really the end of the world because we have a Democrat in office? Yes, really crappy things happen – every single day, to good people, to innocent people, to all religions, races, sexes…you get the picture. That is part of the natural flow of life. Is it too much to hope that we can actually see the green shoots through the snow? Can we not see that we have a new president with a new outlook? Do we have to watch every rebound of the stock market with a cynical eye that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy?
I am a Gen-Xer. My parents are Baby Boomers. I have grown up during the boom times, and yes, things look pretty bad right now. BUT, I have also read history. I know that the Roaring 20s were followed by the Great Depression. I know that the Roman Empire fell, we suffered through the Middle Ages, then rebounded with the Renaissance. This is a cycle, and it is my humble opinion that life is too short to wallow in this negativity. Please, fight Global Warming because it is the right thing to do. Please, give money to Education, Women’s rights, and Health Care because it is the moral thing to do. Please spare me the nonsense about a blown budget when we have been spending on credit for 30 years and the “pork” that is often cut are exactly the programs that society needs to battle social problems.
Finally, calm down. As my mother always says, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” We might just become a super power again.
