Shutting off the Email

People can wait.  The beep of the email arrival doesn’t mean that every message deserves equal, critical attention the moment it hits the in-box.

For years, I tried to answer emails as they came in.  The ding in the in-box was like the proverbial snap of the finger—read me now!  Give me your attention! This certainly did not allow me to focus on what I was working on. Then I realized that people began expecting immediate answers, day and night.

Over the past couple years,  I made a conscious effort to not answer emails right away.  More recently, I have taken the more drastic step of completely shutting down email for an hour or two each day, allowing me to focus on the project in front of me.   Sometimes I do this a couple times a day, and I have found that my productivity has increased dramatically, my work quality has improved, I am less stressed about the in-box to-do list, and not one person has complained about me responding to an email in a few hours rather than a few minutes.

I have the freedom of mainly working from home, juggling several clients.  With a lack of face-to-face meetings, I think it was easy to get into long-term email conversations.  But our in-boxes have been overloaded.  People cover-their-asses by copying everyone on group emails, then replying to everyone, and so on and so on, exacerbating the email glut.

So I am not only emailing less, I am using the phone more.  It is so easy to misconstrue ideas in an email. Talking through a large project, timelines, or  resolving a problem can oftentimes be resolved quicker in a call than 57 emails, with less room for disconnect between the parties involved.

Email is still a great tool I use through the workday.  But it can distract, overload, confuse.  And it doesn’t take place of the human voice, the handshake, the conversation, the doodles that can help provide a solution, inspire our creativity, keep us on task with goals, and simply add back the human element back into our workdays.  C

Everyone Wants Me ….to Shop!

Regretfully, I have another birthday sneaking up on me in May.  Lest I forget, it seems like every store I frequently shop at has sent me reminder coupons and gift cards.  Some are really token gifts including

$10 off Kohls

$5 off DSW

$15 off a restaurant chain

$10 off Victoria’s Secret

$15 off Loft

I am sure if I look really hard I can actually spend just the amount on the cards in each store, but what is the likelihood of that really happening?  Especially $5 off at a shoe store.

Then there are the gifts with a catch.  “Save $20 off a $50 purchase” coupon.  And the “save $10 off a $50 purchase—IF you use our credit card.”  I don’t count these as “gifts”, since I have to spend a bunch of my hard-earned cash to even use them.  Who are these really a gift for?  Me?  The store?  If I was to tell my friend that I would take her out for her birthday dinner, but that she would have to pay for everything but the tip and dessert, would that really be an appreciated gift?

Frankly, we know these cards are not gifts.  Enticements to shop, really.   I will try to use some of the real “freebies” but the others will probably be recycled at the end of May unless I HAPPEN to be shopping and use them. C

Money, Money, Money

Please stop asking me for money.

When we were kids there were collection tins on store counters, begging for change.

As an adult, those collection containers remain in shops, for anonymous giving.  Several years ago, grocery stores starting asking at check out “would you like to donate to [insert charity name]?”  If you said yes, as a winner they would write your name on a paper balloon/shamrock/rainbow and hang it on the wall for all other shoppers to know that you were a donator.

Me, I would rather make my donations privately, so I was forced to say NO in front of the clerks, other shoppers, sign of a smiling kid starting to tear up. At first I was embarrassed to say no, but the repetitiveness eventually made it easier to stick with my answer.

This weekend I was shocked at the drive-thru Burger King window when asked if I wanted to donate $1 for coupons, for a charity.   NO, I was hungry for a veggie burger and fries.  I so rarely eat food from BK I doubt I would be back to use the coupons.

For some reason, I don’t mind the Salvation Army bellringers at Christmas.  The smiling ones, anyways.  This past winter I had a brief idea of dropping change into each bucket I passed.  I swear, I think those ringers multiplied with that thought, and I quickly began to see 5-10 ringers a day. I changed my offering to giving money to the first ringer I passed each day.

I like the freedom of being able to choose the charities I want support.  There are organizations we help annually. I willingly give to most of my friends and family who are participating in a walk/run/triathlon/head shaving/elephant race.  I buy cookies, popcorn, coupon books, flowers from neighbors and friends.  And yes, we sell some of those coupon books and raffle tickets ourselves.

I am sure that charities must raise lots of money asking every shopper at every store to give to the Important Cause of the Week Fund, but I find it rude, presumptuous. Just let me buy my toothpaste, my milk, my onion rings.  I will make my own donation tonight, from my computer. Trying to publicly shame me into giving money just turns me off. C

Changing Expectations

Over the past few months I have found myself changing my expectations for many people around me–my clients, my vendors, my friends, my kids, my spouse, my siblings.  I think we have some expectations ground into us when we are young, from what our parents taught us.  Then life experiences, a recession, and watching others around us moderates our long-term thoughts.

From work, I expect to slave many hours per day at my computer, on the phone, in meetings.  And for those extra hours I will get more demands from clients, tighter deadlines, project piling on until I learned to say NO!, an occasional thank you. Vendors are working harder to keep up with rapid technology changes, the same tight deadlines, and the new products reaching across departmental lines.

I have learned to lower my expectations of my children’s grades, especially when they are viewable daily online. A recent conversation made me realize I was striving for unattainable perfection in them.  I will accept the reality that my kids are putting in extra effort, some subjects are easier for them to comprehend, and some interest them more than others.

As they get old enough to choose their electives for next year, they need to select ones that interest them, so they can start to form their own future paths, with some open conversations about where that path might lead. Outside of school, I expect that they will make mistakes, hopefully not repeat them.

I have been married over twenty years, with many of the “normal” events of marriage shaping the adults we have become–moves, children, illness, job changes, pets, new hobbies,old hobbies, loss of friends and family, illness, planting a garden, choosing paint colors, buying a new car-a sofa-toilet paper, vacations, volunteering.

Sometimes I have absolutely no expectations, making it easy for Bob to succeed.  And sometimes the everyday distractions make it possible for us to succeed together.  Ever make a to-do list that’s impossible to complete in one day? One week?  A lifetime? A marriage to-do list never ends.  And to set sky-high expectations will only doom it daily.

From my friends I have learned to accept their offerings–a meal, a smile, a text, a phone call, a gift, a flower, a joke, a card–with grace and gratitude.

And from myself, as my abilities to do much have diminished since surgery, I have lowered my expectations for myself.  I have raised the expectations for my family to contribute more with the house cleaning, the shopping, the cooking, the laundry, the dogs.  Being forbidden to lift more than 10 lobs for a full 12 weeks has certainly reshaped my reality.

And tonight, my expectations for this blog post have dropped dramatically from what I envisioned while walking to what I have typed into this computer.

C

PS.  The morning after addendum on 1/12/11 is that I realize that this list of expectations could be much longer.  I have left off a myriad of people/organizations we have expectations for, who may or may not live up to them:  the President, local politicians, the mail lady, the next U2 concert I attend, the grocery store clerks, bus drivers,  the next episode of “Top Chef”.   The list goes on.

Porch Detail

A close up from the UD porch picture I posted last night.  I was wondering what made the students leave in the middle of their card game.

And thinking about the reunion, I was wondering who had more fun–those of us who attended all the evening events (friends and alcohol aplenty) or those of us who had too much fun during a daytime pool party/Euchre game/Pine Club dinner that we didn’t make it to the evening events. I was in the former group, thank you very much. C

 

Number Theory

The worst thing about digital clocks is that many children do not know how to really read time. They learn on pre-school worksheets, struggling to draw the hour and minute hands properly,  then promptly forget when there are no clocks in their everyday surroundings. My kids cannot read my watch with no numbers or lines on the face.

There are many things to like about the simplicity of a digital clock, though when you unplug the one by my bed, time simply vanishes. On digital clocks I can see the time at the  three am worry hour.

I can plug my ipod in and hear my favorite music when I awake.

It has a snooze button.

But, my favorite thing about digital clocks is number patterns.  Not waiting for one, like when you drive and wait,  wait for the odometer to click from 49,999 to 50,000.

No, it’s the random view I enjoy. I love when I get in the car to drive and it is 11:11.  Then I happen to come home at 1:11 pm.

The dogs wake me at 5:55 (too early, but a symmetrical number).

Nap time at 3:33.

And my favorite, the glance that reads 12:34.

Pretty cool.  C