Category Archives: Work

Setbacks

patience, perseverance, Recovery, Work

Fourteen days ago, I lost my job. My position got eliminated and two other people along with me were let go. It’s like I’ve said a million times before: “Change is not only possible, it’s probable.” What I didn’t throw in was the caveat that sometimes change isn’t a positive thing, sometimes it’s the universe smacking you in the head and making you go through a rough patch to put you on the path to following your bliss.

I’ve come to find that life just loves to throw curve balls. Just when I think I am getting some clear air ahead, another obstacle rears its ugly head. When I discussed this with one of my pals, she said, “Welcome to adulting” and she was right. What I’ve learned in the therapy room is that life is not personally out to get me, even though sometimes it sure does feel like it. Instead, I have found that life is an equal-opportunity sadist, it just loves to give us the illusion of clear air only to promptly slap us with a new obstacle to overcome; and it does it (without hesitation) to EVERYONE.

Remembering that I am not alone in this type of situation is the attitude that I’ve taken into this rough patch because it comes with the fact that I get to move again. *Sigh* Not fun. Just when I thought I was going to live alone again, come November, it’s back to shared housing with a new roommate. While it is disappointing to have to move again, I am looking at it in a new light. I know that it’s going to be okay. Believe me, I’ve seen worse. Each time I have to face changes like this, it’s less and less traumatic because I’ve learned that the Earth will keep turning, planes will keep flying and that my old friend “Change” is reminding me to keep dying, forcing me to let go of old things and pushing me to accept new adventures. It’s not easy to go through, but when is life ever easy for ANY of us?

Losing a job sucks. Your self-esteem gets to take a hit along with the impending “What am I going to do” panic in the back of your mind. In the past, I would have let something like this completely mow me down. Not this time. And that’s the big change: I’ve learned how to better cope with loss. Thank goodness for the time my therapist and I spent re-training my brain; all that hard work in the therapy room is working full-time to help me get through this setback with a positive attitude. The other change is that I am more confident and have a more positive outlook on myself than before. I have some unique skills and a vote of confidence from an industry pro that says I’m ready to take on the job of being a Creative Director. Before, I would have never thought I had the chops for it, but apparently, I do! And that’s great news.

So, the resumes are going out. The Linked In profile is getting polished up. Most of all, I am remembering that setbacks happen. And they happen to everyone. So if you are out there feeling you’re alone in the universe – you certainly aren’t – I’m right there with you, shoulder-to-shoulder, climbing the mountain, one step at a time.

The Importance of Excellent Spelling Skills

education, Fortitude, Funny, IMC, perseverance, Work, writing
The Eternal Sophomore Tackles Spelling
SHCOOL is painted along the newly paved road leading to Southern Guilford High School on Drake Road Monday, August 9, 2010, in Greensboro, N.C. (AP Photo/News & Record, Joseph Rodriguez)

Oscar Wilde in the 1895 play “The Importance of Being Earnest” once said, “To lose one parent, […] may be regarded as a misfortune. To lose both seems like carelessness.”

While Wilde uses that quote to illustrate the sometimes ludicrous nature of “high” society, it has a more powerful message when you look at it through the eyes of a writer.

In today’s instant gratification, instant information culture, the amount of time we have to create copy/content has become extremely limited. Writing on deadline is not only a journalistic ideal, but a mandatory part of SEO writing as well. The unrelenting demand for content has come with a terrible side effect, the loss of accurate spelling, punctuation and sentence structure.

Every morning I start my day with a look through multiple digital media outlets. I start with The Wall Street Journal and New York Times; make my way down the coast to Atlanta and CNN; then to the West for The LA Times; across the pond to BBC News from London; then round out my digital globetrotting with the Associated Press and Reuters’ websites to read the breaking news. After that, it’s checking my local news on all three broadcast networks and finally sitting down with a print copy of the local newspaper, the Las Vegas Review-Journal or “RJ.” Yeah, I consume a lot of news before I have finished breakfast.

The one thing that I have repeatedly noticed? Typos everywhere.

In our mad rush to sate audiences with fresh content, we’ve either forgotten to proofread or we have become far too reliant on spell-check. I catch typos with frightening regularity in large publications like The New York Times and USA Today. Every time I spot a typo or a fumbled sentence, I sit back and ask two questions:

Doesn’t the writer realize that typos damage the credibility of their story? Don’t they realize that they are damaging the reputation of their publication each time they don’t thoroughly check their work?

I’d hate to think that most news stories are entered through a smartphone, but odds are that’s closer to the truth than I even realize – because I have caught some errors that could only be attributed to auto-correct.

The argument can be made by those who think the typo is “okay” that people are lazy and don’t read past the headline. To that I ask, what about those who do read past the headline? Should the people actually reading the entire article be forced to put up with atrocious spelling and expect their work to be called “credible”?

My answer? Each time I see a typo, I can’t help but think that writers are dropping the ball and not doing their jobs right.

One of my favorite sayings is:

“Spell well, write well, communicate unforgettably.”

It’s pretty simple, right? It just says that when you spell well, your writing has a fighting chance to reach and impact an audience. But then again, I may be asking too much. After all, as a wise friend of mine once said, “Not everyone speaks Sheri,” meaning that I communicate differently than most everyone else.

I wrote script and cursive and read aloud from National Geographic by the time I was four and then wrote my first lines of computer code by the time I was eight. But it all boiled down to one thing, I have always known the importance of spelling. The reason that I began reading so early is because I was taught to sound out my words, using phonics to make sure I was pronouncing words correctly. When it came time to write, I used the inverse, sounding out the words to ensure their proper spelling on the page. Over my lifetime spelling has become my stock in trade, so when I see a typo or witness the desecration of the English language on social media, I cringe. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Shouldn’t we all be cringing when we see a typo? I would think so, but maybe that’s just me.

When you write, you have to make sure that your word usage and spelling are accurate. I’m often told that I own “The Vocabulary of Awesome” because I use words that other people usually don’t. The truth is that really I don’t own “The Vocabulary of Awesome,” I just make sure that when I write that I use the perfect words to convey my thoughts or emotions. I have no fear of saying “I don’t know”, so going to a dictionary to look up a word’s proper spelling or definition doesn’t bother me one bit. At least I know that when I write, I can at least reach the bar of good spelling skills, which in the end, gives me outstanding credibility. (It makes me fun to read, too.)

Right now, in schools all over the world, they are taking handwriting out of the curriculum. To me, that is tantamount carelessly wiping an endangered species off the map. When we take handwriting away, we take away a sensory mechanism for teaching proper spelling. Besides, in our instant information/instant gratification culture, a handwritten letter sent by snail mail has become a treasured artifact.

So, for me, the next time you go on social media, write an article or attempt to communicate with the world, make sure what you write is spelled properly. It will do your credibility a world of good. Think of it this way, when you spell well, people take you seriously and your “street cred” (“cred” being short for the word “CREDIBILITY”) will skyrocket. If that fails to convince you, think of Oscar Wilde:

“One typo may be regarded as a misfortune. Two or more seems like carelessness.”

The Starbucks Fail

Funny, perseverance, Work, writing

We have a new tradition at work: One hour every day spent writing. Some of it will go on the company site, some of it will be kept on side, but regardless, it’s going to be posted here so that my blog at LEAST gets a minor shot in the arm every day.

It’s only Tuesday and it’s already been a bad week. Yesterday began with $500 in car repairs, followed by one of the members of my far-reaching virtual family dying of complications due to breast cancer. I go into work the following day and, as is quickly becoming the norm, my office Internet goes out. It’s then that one of my office cohorts decides that it would be a grand idea to go to the local Starbucks to use the Internet and get some work done.

When we reconvened at the nearby Starbucks, I was already shaken, an emotional mess from the day previous, so I went outside to collect myself, carrying my full Venti Mocha Frappucino and hoping in vain that I could collect myself enough to get some work done. After a few minutes, finally in a mindset to get to work, I walk back in the door of the Starbucks and promptly get stuck, dropping the huge cup of chilled chocolate goodness I was carrying onto the floor. Upon impact, the contents of the cup splatters onto the floor and all over the handsome new graphic artist that just started work with us, promptly making a mess unlike the gods have ever seen.

I sigh heavily as I look down at the mess, realizing that it’s already not been an overwhelmingly great week, and come to find out, it’s only Tuesday.

The fellow writer from my office springs from his seat, the gentle giant of a man quickly cleaning up the sticky mess that is decorating the floor, my shoes and the hem of my comfy jeans. The remnants of my expensive coffee drink quickly become a huge chocolate smear on the floor, getting larger with every napkin taken from the dispenser to clean it up. He sends mischievous quips my way as I am covered in chocolate and embarrassment, trying desperately to hold up the back of my pants and some semblance of my dignity as I bend down to clean up the mess I have clumsily made.

And yeah, it’s only Tuesday.

I sit down and begin to write, looking at the door which caused the mess and now covered in coffee streaks, thinking to myself, “Please God, don’t let anyone slip on that…” Someone slipping on it would have only made my day that much more unbearable to take, knowing that not only is my car on the fritz, my friend is dead and my world seems to be falling apart, it would only make sense that my internal tragedy turns itself into someone else’s injury. After writing about slips, trips and falls for work, it only seems fitting that I would eventually take someone out.

Like I always accurately say about myself, “If I could step in it, trip over it, bump into it or burn myself with it, I usually do.” God gave me a double helping of brains and skipped grace altogether. Over the past 43 years, I have come to learn that having a high IQ does not necessarily translate into physical grace; instead, my intellect manifests itself in a series of awkward, often embarrassing, side-splitting comedic trips, stumbles and inevitable wipeouts. Never in my life have I seen someone clumsier than myself, and that’s saying something. If there is a curb, I can fall off of it and land flat on my face in under two seconds. Trust me, I’ve done it and have witnesses that will say, “Yep, she’s THAT clumsy.”

And yeah, it’s only Tuesday which means that I’ve still got three days left this week to maybe break my neck and write 10 more articles on slips, trips and falls as atonement for hosing the new guy down with a dropped Mocha Frappucino.

I guess that’s why I became a writer. It’s safe. After all, you can’t spill a cup of words onto people, that is, unless you are carrying a steaming hot cup of Alphabet Soup. Okay, bad example, but it’s safe to say that you’re immune from me spilling anything on you. Regardless, being a writer allows me to sit in one place, have liquids strategically placed so they don’t end up on my keyboard, computer screen, (or my office cohorts) and be able to tell stories that are compelling, often funny, and most of all, informative.

Outside of keeping the world-at-large safe from my clumsiness, I became a writer through a very organic process. I grew up surrounded by the oral tradition via the family stories told around my grandmother’s bedside in East Texas where she battled painful rheumatoid arthritis. Even though she was in pain, she always found a way to laugh and the laughter that came out of that room was unforgettable to me. It illustrated to the 4-year-old me that stories could help bridge gaps, they could raise spirits and that they could be used to teach. Even today, I help keep the family stories alive by digitally chronicling them so that they may be passed down to future generations. From the stories of practical jokes being played in the Southern Baptist church they attended to the tales of the hijinks they played on each other in the family’s cotton fields that they worked from pre-dawn until dusk every day of the early 1900’s, it sometimes seems like the stories my family contains are endless. There are even tales of family members coping with having to sit on an inordinately large ice block, barely covered by the thin seats of an old model T to keep cool on the long, hot drive from El Paso to Bryan, Texas.

But, it was in that old, white house at the end of a long gravel road that I learned the value of storytelling. You see, it is through stories that we chronicle the evolution of the human condition: its joys, its sorrows, its triumphs and the lessons to be learned through failures. As a little girl sitting on my father’s lap inside that very humble, worn farmhouse is where I first heard the tales of the invention of the telephone, tragic tales and first-hand accounts of the Great Depression, stories of farming technologies long past and given the gift of an almost first-hand view of a bygone age that is now only the stuff of memory quickly being lost to history.

So, as a writer, I can really only tell you what my sensory experience and vast amounts of research tell me so that I can internalize it, rationalize it, and bring it in written form to you, who has stopped to watch me epically fail at a Starbucks, but spin the experience to show you how and why I chose to construct my world of words.

And it’s only Tuesday. Who knows what the rest of the week may bring?