I wonder what you think about my life. Let me tell you who I am.
I am a Human Resources chick who hated her job and tried something new: writing and speaking.
At first, I didn’t know what I was doing.
And my new career was totally inconvenient.
In the middle of the recession, we could have used my former salary.
And the pressure on my husband — the major breadwinner and provider of our health insurance — wasn’t always easy, either.
But now I can look back and say that the change was worth it. Well, maybe. I dunno. I’m a late bloomer.
Anyway, I hope people read this blog (or follow me wherever I speak and write) and see that I’ve made lemonade out of lemons.
I am not a particularly talented speaker. Although I’ve been able to monetize my knowledge of social media and B2B marketing, much of what I talk about is really dry and boring. And writing about work, power, politics and money won’t earn me a Nobel Prize.
But this crazy life of mine led me to Grand Cayman (and a really great resort) to talk to a bunch of HR professionals about social media.
I look at other people’s lives on social networking sites (cute babies, successful marriages, impressive CVs and resumes) and I know that much of the struggle and the heartache in life is glossed over with selfies and meaningless credentials. No one likes to talk about the tough stuff in life. I don’t blame them, either.
So what I show you — although not entirely deep and intimate — is as honest as I can be about myself without being weird.
And maybe I am weird.
Right now, I am just a former HR lady who travels around the world, has great friends and visits cool places. I do this despite the fact that I still hate my industry (HR) and often doubt my abilities.
But I have great friends, a partner in life who believes in me, and readers who keep asking for more.
Lemonade out of lemons, baby. That is my approach to life.
I am a girl’s girl. There is no doubt about it. I am 100% hoes before bros. But I have fallen into a relationship with five men who are the brothers I never wanted.
Yeah, I know. It’s complicated.
I hang out with a great group of guys who talk sports and HR — two things I absolutely hate. And they treat me with so much sexless, unemotional disdain that I wonder: Are these guys my soulmates?
And sometimes I find myself in a Waffle House with one of these dudes (because none of them are big drinkers and they like to eat bacon) and we talk about sports. Apparently, I live in a historic part of the country. College basketball is a big deal. And people around here still talk about the 1983 NC State Wolfpack team.
When I asked one of those guys about Jim Valvano, the former Wolfpack coach, I was told that Jimmy V wasn’t a typical guy. He was emotional, optimistic and loving. He liked to have fun.
“He told his players he loved them. He meant it.”
I was sorta shocked. I see Mike Krzyzewski on TV all of the time. Isn’t college basketball all about looking cranky?
So I watched the SURVIVE AND ADVANCE and learned a little more about my hometown team. They had an amazing run up to the NCAA championship. It was truly impressive. But the story gets a little sad. Several years later, Jim Valvano came down with cancer. He fought it hard. Eight weeks before he died, he gave a famous speech.
He said, “Don’t give up, don’t ever give up.”
If you watch this speech, you might be moved to tears.
Working in Human Resources, I always hung out with frumpy ladies and never really hung out with dudes who talked about sports. But at this point in my life, I am glad to know a group of white guys who can teach me things about leadership, teamwork and friendship. And through this weird friendship, I learned about my adopted hometown and my local history.
I’ve been on LinkedIn since 2004. I use my Ron Burgundy voice and tell people that I’m kind of a big deal, but when it comes to my personal LinkedIn profile, I am a hot mess.
Hold on, I can explain myself.
I am not looking for a job. I don’t want to see you humblebrag on your career. I am just on LinkedIn to spy on you.
But I am different than you. You work in Human Resources (or whatever) and you need to take your professional career seriously.
You create a professional profile in one spot that is validated by crowd-sourced scrutiny.
From there, you can manage your career (apply for jobs, research companies, read popular articles in your industry) and pay attention to your career in a way that wasn’t possible 10 years ago.
And you can stay connected to former colleagues and advisors in a way that is neither too personal nor too intrusive.
Does LinkedIn work as a strategy for job seekers? Heck yes. So does networking, looking on corporate websites and seeking out employee referrals. This isn’t a zero-sum game.
Can I find passive candidates on LinkedIn? If you meet someone in life who isn’t looking for a job and isn’t open to a new and better opportunity, keep looking. Passive candidates are so 1997. In a few years, half of the workforce will be contingent. The rise of the portfolio worker is here. Talented people will flock to a system where it’s easy to discern real opportunities (and real recruiters) from fake ones. That talent marketplace is probably LinkedIn. Although it could be something else. Spending time on LinkedIn now will help you prepare for the future.
Is LinkedIn — and social networking — a distraction and a waste of time? Sure, yeah. But life is a distraction if you are Buddhist or a Jesuit.
Very few of us are as strategic as we think we are. You should participate on a site like LinkedIn to understand its power and its limitations. In fact, this is why Jennifer McClure and I travel all over the globe and preach social media awareness to Human Resources professionals.
If you are too busy to pay attention to current trends, the future will sweep you out to sea.
A good friend of mine is thinking about you. He’s a nice guy.
Me? I think it is time to take ownership for your experience at work. Depression is real, but sometimes I want to shake you and tell you that your funk is your own choice. I know you have complaints about work.
I am evolving on this.
Passion and engagement are a choice. If you choose your way into a lackluster job, you can choose your way out.
You don’t need a young CEO and a ping-pong table to determine whether or not your company is a ‘best place to work’. You know if the job is worth keeping.
You shouldn’t need ongoing and repeated feedback from your supervisor to know whether or not you are doing a good job. You’re not a child. You are smart. You went to college. You know the difference between a solid performance and phoning it in.
Some of you really do work in horrendous conditions where your boss is an [insert vulgar thing here]. But almost everyone who has access to the internet during normal business hours has a decent job. You might work with annoying people. You might face your fair share of obstacles. But you get paid for the bullshit in your life, unlike Bangladeshi garment workers.
If your job doesn’t pay enough, which many jobs don’t, you have two options: find another job or spend less money. Actually, I think you should do both. Spend less money. Save it. Then find another job. Keep spending less money. Stop being exploited by a consumer-driven economy.
And in your spare time — and don’t scoff at me because I know you have plenty — you could build a business that matches your values.
Mark Stelzner is right. There are some depressed people at work, today. But you don’t need to win Powerball to escape your depressing job.
You could start by escaping your attitude and making better choices.