Sales Monkeys are only sometimes trainable

So I am a sales rep. I have sold technology services, solutions, and products since 1997. Sales years are much like dog years, but not as generous. I have often said that at 34, I am 507 in sales years, there are two key components that make this true. I was explaining to some of my book club members why I am getting way too old to do this for much longer. The first component is what supports my previous statement. I am not smart enough to work for companies that build business models around multiple sales. There are products that make sense in that way, ie: selling copiers, Microsoft products, SAP, etc., but we are not one of them, nor have I worked for technology companies that have that model. What this equates to is a sales force that must start from zero every single month as recurring revenue does not fall into place. Though there are benefits to this, there are also major pitfalls.

Secondly, I have found myself selling in male dominated industries in which my internal and external competition have all been men. Fine, but I have a mouth like a sailor and really have very little patience for emotional nonsense when it comes to business. I am big picture, business minded and analytical. I do not appreciate grandstanding, nor will I patiently bat my eyes at you while you go on ad nausea while really saying nothing at all. If there is a point, I would appreciate you getting to it. I want change made quickly to benefit the company and the sales staff and I am not about to stroke your ego unjustifiably. Give me a run for my money and you will gain my respect and admiration. So given the male dominance in my professional life, and the fact that I have spent over 7 years in IT Security, there is nothing - and I really mean nothing, that I have not seen or heard. I am in all cases, just one of the guys. So that being said, the mamby pamby sales guy who bullshits about his fabricated pipeline, or treats me like the little lady of the bunch is going to be sad, embarrassed, pissed, when I call him out. It has happened everywhere I have worked and I do not foresee it getting any better. I have almost no ego, but I am good at what I do and produce results. Well DUH - this is a results drive occupation. Is that so hard to understand?

So my point is not to rant about the Kevin Homer's of the world, but to complain that we have had clients in the office all day from out of town. This is good right? More business, good for the growth of the organization. Well, yes. But the sales team has had to be on their best behavior and that is so damn difficult. The month is coming to a close and we are awaiting contracts that should have been here yesterday and we like to bitch, moan, and cuss about these things. I am fortunate in that two of mine came in today, but I am waiting for that one more that is just about to drive me over the edge. Not to mention the fact that our August pipelines are looking extremely thin and we will be white knuckling our way through next month. There are times I am on my best behavior, but there are conditions in which I just hate it.

Speaking of things I have to do: Today is my wedding anniversary and although my husband does not read my blog - Happy Anniversary G. Congrats on putting up with me for so long! So we are going to celebrate on Saturday night as I have one of my committee meetings tomorrow morning at 7:30am and he will be home late tonight. So my daughter is going to have an overnight with my mother and this requires that I call her. I am not looking forward to 1) calling my mother and 2) exposing my daughter to her. This being said, "Little" asked to go to Grandma's house (she actually asked for Grandpa) and they have not seen her since the beginning of June. I am truly working on forgiveness, but for those of you who do not know the selfishness of my parents, you have not idea how steep this climb is and I am doing it in roller skates.

25 Things to Do Before I am 36

I will be 36 on September 25, 2008, here is my list:

1. Lose ???? pounds (not divulging, but will stay honest)
2. Run the Boulder Backroads (I have completed this race, but with a run/walk combo)
3. Train for a marathon
4. Return to my degree program (I have less than 40 credits to complete)
5. Decide what I want to do when I grow up
6. Wear a bathing suit without panic
7. Go Skiing
8. Play 18 holes on Bear Dance during the week
9. Buy a dress
10. Spend one day without my email/phone/internet
11. Take a dive trip
12. Go on vacation and enjoy it.
13. Visit Mackenzie's grave site
14. Wear my hair curly in public
15. Have dinner with someone I normally would not
16. Go to a Rockies game with the Kings
17. Start a retirement fund
18. Share a long, passionate kiss that lights me on fire
19. Do something brave
20. Re-read Judy Blume books
21. Forgive
22. Visit Family
23. Spend a weekend with the girls
24. Go to a Broncos game at Invesco
25. Drink champagne to celebrate something special

I welcome any thoughts or additions.

But it is a Happy Monday!

The thing about coming to terms with the past is that it is exhausting and that must be true for the reader as well although I am receiving a lot of feedback, for which I am grateful. I have a poster on the wall at work that says "I Believe...That it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself." I have more forgiving to do. I have more purging to do, but not today. Because despite the fact that it is Monday, today I am happy. I overslept, I sang with my daughter, I made it to work, and I have nothing but meetings today.

So I had a great weekend, I mean I did spend some time working on my two previous blogs, but otherwise I had a great weekend. Chloe had ballet on Saturday morning, during which time, I worked on my 65 Days post (thank God for Windows mobile on smart phone devices - seriously!). We ran off to my husband's company party, which was held at an amusement park. My darling daughter rode the ferris wheel, the carousel, a real horse, the Safari ride that went up in the air, and a thing that spun her around and when up and down. Now Mommy's feet were planted firmly on the ground as Mommy is afraid of heights. Yesterday, we went to see Shrek The Third, which she has been asking to see since they started running the commercials. My daughter has loved the movie theatre experience since about the age of 2 1/2 and so she was mesmerized by the screen. So much so, that when the little boy behind us threw up all over our chairs, she had no idea why I was picking her up to move.

I tell my daughter every day that she is my best stuff and I truly mean that. She is a gift and encompasses all of my good qualities. It is easier for me to admire these qualities in her than to think that I actually possess them and good for me. My daughter is strong and proud, she is caring and loving, but strong and steadfast in her convictions. She is a leader and a perfectionist, but compromising in certain situations in which she must work as part of a team. I am very proud of her and so thankful I have been able to afford the school she is in. My job this week is to see more of her in me and feel this kind of pride and love about myself. My secondary task is to complete my list - especially since my book club dinner is tomorrow night.

Coming Up....Two weeks until the Tri for The Cure (who made me sign up for this??)

The Funeral and Ever After

I remember the Weber Family telling people that I was being investigated for killing my baby. I found out because people were calling my closest friends to find out if I was in jail. I remember my grandmother taking me to Saks Fifth Avenue to find appropriate funeral attire and thinking how absurd it was. I went to the funeral to make arrangements. When it was suggested that I select the equivalent of a styrofoam beer cooler over a traditional coffin to save money, I leapt to my feet with rage and the intent of knocking the funeral director flat on his ass. But it was the first emotion I felt outside of total devastation.

I was allowed time with my daughter who was beautiful in her baptism gown. She looked like she was napping in her white coffin. I placed a variety of treasures around her angelic body, including my cross. There were people, many people, but I do not remember any of them. I do not remember the words spoken, only that we were outside. I stood up, kissed her coffin, laid a single white rose on top of the spray, and walked directly to the car. I got in and the world stopped. People tried talking to me in the car and I waved them away. Couldn’t they see I was dead?

Back at the house, my parents had invited everyone over and they were drinking heavily. I do not remember any of my friends being there, but I know my mother was talking about how horrible this was for her. Juarez took me for a walk around my neighborhood to rescue me from the ridiculous chaos that I purely did not need. I am sure I did or said something obnoxious that sent him away again, but it was one of the last times I saw him. Shortly after I buried my girl, I ran into G. We ended up in his apartment crying while looking at Mackenzie’s pictures. We talked of getting married and having another baby to make ourselves feel better. Instead, I got up and walked out. I think I made the decision that I did not want to feel better and even after 17 years, I have kept that promise.

As I write this today, I cry. I am ashamed of my choices and my lies. I am angry that I was not able to protect my delicate child. I am hurt that my parents thought about their loss and garnered attention rather than show genuine and constructive concern for me. I am miserable that I spent the next year getting drunk and stoned to numb the pain. I ran away from this and from my parents by marrying the wrong man for me and wasting 6 years of my life with him. And I carry hundreds of pounds of guilt. I have had health problems in response to this guilt, which has required surgery. And yet, I do not feel like I have done enough to pay for the sin of losing a child that I had no business concieving in the first place. What does enough look like?
If I were any type of friend to myself, I would say we as people are not perfect. We use the tools were are given by our parents and if our toolbox is not full, we do not always have what we need to get the job done. I made a mistake, I am not a mistake. Though my heart broke, I did not truly die on that day and I shoudl stop wasting my time here on Earth. I have a beautiful daughter who is courageous, brilliant, charming, and beautiful. She deserves a healthy and whole Mommy. I deserve a life worth living. And I deserve to put this saddness, regret, and anger behind me.

I want to say something brilliant to Juarez that captures everything I need and want to articulate. I hope it does not take me another 17 years to do so in an appropriate way, but I need more time to think about what can truly be said to someone that I deeply love in the way that I do. For the time being, thank you is all I have and that will never be enough!

65 Days

I knew immediately that I was pregnant; the revelation came to me as I was in G's bathroom. Though we had had a sweet, simple relationship years prior, we were now together out of pain and suffering. We were looking for comfort that would never be found and would eventually find greater pain than either of us could imagine. Months earlier, I had gone to summer school and met a boy that went to my school, but I had never known. We became fast friends and had something resembling a healthy sibling relationship. I even stood in front of him one afternoon as his father came towards him with a purpose, stopping his old man in his tracks. I dared him to come closer. At 4’11” and less than 100 lbs, it was my anger that stopped his Dad that day, certainly not my stature. His parents were both military and made no bones about what a disappointment he was. That fall, he took his mother’s car out into fields surrounding our city; one of the guns left in the house, and fired a single shot into his head forcing the contents onto the window. It was one of my lowest lows. I had been to funerals before and had already experienced the death of several friends, but my mother was so worried, she would not let me go alone. The nightmares began immediately. I felt guilt. I made a bad choice, I ran for comfort where I was not going to find it. My “comfort” was having his own life tragedies, not to mention the fact that I had a boyfriend in another state. We sat in his apartment crying, we went to bed, and fell asleep. The nightmare came, waking and terrifying both of us. We sought comfort within each other. Standing in his bathroom, I knew that I had made a bad choice. I spent my entire last semester of high school denying it, I was so good, I believed the lies myself. I was 17 when she was born.

My plan was to give her up to a family that could not have children of their own. I had graduated high school, but neither G nor I were healthy enough to be parents, not to mention that we were not speaking to each other. For one reason or another, the family could not pick her up and Mackenzie Len came home with me. I grew fast into motherhood. We were one. I was 18 when we died. For 65 days we lived, that was almost 17 years ago.

The night she died I put her to bed. Hours later I felt unbearable pain in my chest and the greatest sense of panic. I ran to her room to find her turning blue and struggling to breath. My father had experience with pediatric CPR, which he began while my mother called 911. I could feel us dying and I started praying. I could not breathe, only scream. Everything was happening in slow motion and I had no control. The paramedics showed up and I knew it was not good when they made me ride up front. The next thing I remember, the doctor was walking down the hallway. I grasped his coat as he told me how sorry he was and I slid to the ground. While the ER staff was frantically trying to save my girl, I was in the chapel praying harder than I have ever prayed in my life. I saw nurses and tech crying in the ER, I hated them. Somehow I made it to the trauma room and stared at the naked blue shell that once held my baby's soul. My legs shook, my head throbbed as if I had been struck. I could not move. Why? Why Me? Why Her? Why? What did I do to deserve such cruelty and torment and pain? I ran. I ran out of the ER and down the street. I have no idea where I was headed, but I could not be anywhere in which I could find solace. I have no idea who caught me and dragged me back to the hospital. I have no recollection how I got home or when I left the hospital.

I remember the police investigators taking her clothing, I remember my friends coming over, only to find me unresponsive to everyone. I do not know who called him, or why it was done, but I remember talking to Juarez. He was the only one I talked to and I don’t remember what he said, but when I try to remember, I feel relieved and enveloped by strength – even today. He kept me alive that night. Never in my lifetime will I be able to thank him for the love, tenderness, and support he showed me that night. I am so embarrassed I cannot remember what he said to me. I remember so much else about us, but I cannot remember that. I do not know if I slept or if he stayed on the phone with me all night. I did not have to tell him how much I hurt, did he know, cause I never could have explained it. After everything I did, everything I said, I did not deserve him, but there he was. How do you ever say I am sorry enough to cleanse? How do you ever say thank you enough?

Fasten Your Seat Belts

Fasten your seat belts kids, this one will be all over the place.

I do a lot of volunteer work: outgoing Chair of the Parent Organization and head of Fundraising at my daughter's school, heavily involved in CSIA (www.coloradosoftware.org) with positions on the Legislative & Public Policy Committee, Education Committee (I architected the CSIA CSU "Inspire to Innovate" Scholarship), the DEMO Committee (where I Chair the Conference SubCommittee, am a member of the Selection SubCommittee, and a member of the Sales SubCommittee) and hold a Board position for the Internet Safety Foundation, which is Colorado's answer to Project SafeChildhood (http://www.projectsafechildhood.gov/). Beyond this, I work full time as a Business Development Manager for a Workplace Misconduct Risk Mitigation company selling incident reporting, internal investigations, and data forensics. For me, I belong to a book club. It is ridiculous sounding until you realize that we are a different sort of breed than most. There are no ankle length dresses or lace. The commercial where the women are making dip for their meeting - does not happen. We meet every 6-8 weeks at Bucca di Beppo where we start the evening with martinis, order lots of yummy food, and drink wine until dessert. There are about 15 of us, with others that come and go on an irregular basis. We know each other because our children go to the same school and otherwise, we are all so different, we would probably never interact. There are conservative Republicans, Liberals,lawyers, business owners, - we are all professional, white collar working women. So this back story sets up my discussion for today.

Our current book is The Next Thing On My List by Jill Smolinski. It is about a 34 yr old woman, June, who meets a 24 yr old woman, Marissa, at a Weight Watchers meeting. Giving her a ride home, they are in a car accident that kills the younger woman. June finds a list of 25 things that Marissa wanted to do before she turned 25 and resolves to complete the list before Marissa would have turned 25.

This book touched me and made me think about my own mortality. But our assignment for the book club meeting is to come up with our own list. So do I shoot for the 40 before 40 or do I shoot for the 36 before 36 (given that I turn 35 in September, I do not think I can do 35 before 35). So what is on my list? I am almost panicked because knowing what I do about myself, I know I will have to complete the list. So I have already completed a half marathon, but had to walk some of it. I know I would like to run a complete half marathon, marathon, and give some serious thought to a 50 or 100 miler. Which takes me to my next set of things which are to lose all this horrible extra weight and come to terms with my body as it should be for my age, height, etc. I am always either too thin or too fat and never middle of the road.
Ok, so I will post my list on this blog and you all can keep me honest!

Next, I had an interesting conversation with someone who has known me on and off for over 20 years. Juarez sent me two pondering thoughts last night: You will find happiness when you realize it is you that is extraordinary." AND " I have learned the hard way that you have to love yourself first. It seems like you feel as if you are being punished for the past and can not move forward. I very well could be wrong."
There are so many stories that go with all of this and as always Juarez is right.
I am not feeling extraordinary and it is all my fault because I do not feel like I am being punished for the sins of my past, I feel like I should be punished and am doing a damn good job doing just that. Let's work on letting go, falling in love with myself, gaining perspective, good health, and living an extraordinary life.

I promise to start telling my stories, because that is why I started this in the first place. To talk about the things that I do not discuss and then read them as a forgiving, loving friend rather than someone sitting in judgement. I will also figure out my list. Please feel free to make suggestions.

Oh what a week it is.....

So I have started watching Scott Baio is 45 and Single and I feel so much better about my life. Not because Scott Baio is miserable, but because I feel better. It helps that I have been so extremely busy this week and it has been a good busy, not pull your hair out of your head busy. I feel like I am helping to make strategic changes within our organization and I am excited at the potential that those changes will bring to all of us. I hope that our President sees me as an asset and someone who wants things to be better and takes a big picture, substantial growth view of things. Otherwise, he could just thing I am a bitchy sales diva - which could also be true. I like working hard and I like accomplishing what looks like it could be impossible. Why is that I wonder?

I had an interesting conversation with someone that I truly respect, genuinely admire, and spend good time with professionally. It was about her faith as a Christian woman. I feel abandonded by God and hold little faith. I am not sure I want to live this way anymore and would like to believe in something extraordinary.
Anyhow, wish me luck with this.