The Ravishing Mrs. TB and myself went away for the weekend to the South Bay - just us, no kids. It was remarkable - we talked about our lives, and where we wanted to go; we ate meals and didn't fight over eating or sharing crayons - in one event, we just appetizers and dessert for dinner, and lingered over our meal for two hours!; we shopped without chasing kids under the clothing racks.
We even lingered in bookstores.
At which, for the first time in almost a year, I purchased a book from a bookstore- and a book just based on my review of it in the store: The Little Platinum Book of Cha-Ching! by Jeffrey Gitomer.
But all vacations must end. I felt myself tensing up as we got closer to home, and Mrs. TB was doing the same. For myself, it was the dread of work coming towards me.
In reading my new book, one of the author's points is that you have to believe in yourself and your product to sell it. If I am my product, do I believe in myself? Do I present that way?
This prompted me to review my CV, and having seen a lot of CVs lately, I can tell you that mine looked like everyone else's: each job, dates, name of company, followed by the summary description of what I did (which looked like the previous one) in order to build a "history" of experience.
Blah. The darn thing looks blah. I wouldn't hire me - and I'm stuck with me.
Jobs? Not a problem, no matter my own perception and excuses. On a job website for my industry, 8 pages of jobs under a version of what I currently do.
On a side note (and worthy of discussion at a later time) is that pessimists tend to be pessimistic (in other news, Sun rises in East. News at 11). People thrive physically, spiritually, and financially in all circumstances, including potentially bad economic ones. Instead of looking at the headlight of the oncoming train and thinking "Hmmm, that looks weird", shouldn't you at least get off the track?
I have set my sights too low, settled for what I could get without struggle rather than tried to see how far I can reach. There is a brave new world in my industry, and I'm stuck in the 1980's - because I choose to remain there.
Why didn't the chicken cross the road?
Because who knows what's on the other side.