Everybody Lost

The thing that defined 2016 for me, the loss of my job which led to life-changing decisions, has officially become a zero sum game.

The woman who called me into her tiny broom closet of an office and fired me... has now been terminated.

Her dry erase boards filled with lists of goals, plans and commandments for the department are now meaningless.

Everybody loses. Her. And me.

I did not realize how much this bit of gossip would affect me, but after hearing the news yesterday, I sort of spiraled down a rabbit hole of smugness, anger, pity and frustration.

This feels like a waste.

Even though I know I came out a winner from that personal defeat, and would not trade today for yesterday, I can't help but feel like the entire ordeal was unnecessarily victimizing.

My brain is yelling, "Why did a woman who barely made it a year-and-a-half with the company get to fire a thirteen year veteran with a track record of success and promotion?"

It is a jagged, bitter pill. I have not uttered those words since I was terminated back in January because I didn't want them to consume me. I wanted to move forward. Turns out, I was clinging to that battle cry in my head for a long time.

Now, as I try to pull myself out of that self righteous place, I'm remembering how it felt to have the bench kicked out from under me.

I don't know the circumstances surrounding her forced departure. I don't know if she was in a position to see some sort of writing on the wall. I have no idea if she was prepared to be axed, and I don't know what she will do now.

I hope she was not as blindsided by her fate as I was by mine.

Today, after chewing on my feelings for about 24 hours, I almost feel a sense of closure to a story I didn't realize I was still writing.

Though I imagine I have not crossed her mind in a long time, hers is still the face I see when I think of how I stumbled out of my comfort zone and into a life of new possibilities.

I'm taught a lesson about how we have a lasting effect on those around us through our words and actions.

Today I have many things to be thankful for:  a good job, a city I love, life closer to family, a home filled with old friends and new. I think I'm done counting the cost.

And no matter how I feel about our brief professional successes and failures, I hope her tally sheet is also teeming with blessings when she adds it all up.

Good luck to her.

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The case for unique job hunting tactics

I know how to get a job, alright!

Exhibit A: Bribery will get you everywhere

My then-future boss put me up at the Doubletree Hotel in downtown Cleveland because they give warm cookies to guests and he liked those cookies. Armed with that information, I asked the desk clerk if she could hook me up with an extra cookie, you know, for insurance purposes. An entire bag of them floated my way. I was hired.

Exhibit B: When in doubt, leave something behind

In mid-2002, I was eager take the Mid-South by storm.

Two kinds of women

I heard some pretty solid truth on an old Law & Order episode the other day: "There are two kinds of women in this world: those with breast cancer, and those who are scared to death of getting it."

Right on, Lt. Van Buren. I hear that.

In just a few hours, hundreds of women, their families, friends, coworkers and even some pets will wake up to "race for the cure."

This annual ritual is a milestone in the battle against breast cancer for many, a blessing and celebration of survival, and a rite of passage for others.

Here in Cleveland, for the past three years, those who take part in the Susan G. Komen event have had to be pretty resolute for the cure, myself included.

As I type, rain is coming down in buckets, and as she has for the past few years, Mother Nature will continue to dump on the shores of Lake Erie for another 5k.

The pink will be covered with plastic bags, raincoats and umbrellas, but the army will assemble! It's  just a little water!

I'm always moved by the faces I see at the Race for the Cure: strong women who would probably say their lives weren't extraordinary before their diagnosis, but ordinary, typical, filled with husbands, kids, work, meetings, groceries and Browns games on Sundays.

Then, those words. All the air leaves the room. I can't imagine. I'm in "group two" of Lt. Van Buren's reference.

So this morning at 9 a.m., they will lace up their shoes, put on as much pink as they can find, and celebrate their forever-changed lives.

And the hope is that I and anyone else in "group two" will never have to know what it feels like to be in group one.

I won't be at the race this year, but my heart will, along with people I love and admire.

I will be thinking of them, each doing their part to help find a cure for cancer, so maybe someday there will still be two kinds of women in this world: those who fought breast cancer and won, and those who will never have to go to war.

Pic from the 2014 Race for the Cure, where my coworkers and I broadcast live in the rain!

Now, because you can't hear it enough, EARLY DETECTION IS CRITICAL!!!

If you've been putting off your breast healthcare because of financial concerns, MetroHealth Medical Center, University Hospitals, and Cleveland Clinic all offer free mammograms to uninsured and under-insured women.