10 years later

50 was a good year. I changed my life after that. At 35, I was still stupid.

I don’t know where to start. I’ve been busy, and it’s been too long.

A year ago last week, I got the job offer, and it’s been whirlwind can’t-get-my-feet-under-me until recently. I now see that there were so many people and things and experiences and events that led me to this place. It really does seem to be true that people cycle in and out of your life for a reason. It just doesn’t seem like a good reason at the time, especially if those people are inflicting pain on a daily basis.

About the job, first. CFO of a not-for-profit social services agency. Good causes, multiple locations and disciplines, 350 +/- employees, in complete disarray when I got there. I have wonderful employees. Intellectual challenges. Never a boring day.

On the other hand, the CEO and the commute are…well…not ideal. Some days, barely tolerable. I come home, drink a glass of wine (OK, maybe two), and drop into bed, exhausted.

I couldn’t have done it without the influence of one of my former bosses. I hadn’t been working for her but a few weeks, when she told me I’d find people drawn to me, sharing confidences, looking for guidance. After years of ridicule from the ex, I thought she was out of her mind…until it started happening. That was the first time I ever saw myself in any kind of leadership role, whether named or not.

I couldn’t have done it without all that I learned by living with my ex. I know it sounds insane to be grateful for having lived with a misogynistic, egotistical jackass with personality disorders, but those years taught me to recognize that same set of disorders in others, which came in handy when, in only two short weeks into my new job, the CEO came stomping down to my office to shriek and shame and bellow and try like hell to make me feel deficient in some way. I had an immediate knee jerk reaction and an ah-ha moment at the same time. My CEO makes my ex look like a nice, normal, even-keeled guy, if that tells you anything.

I couldn’t have done it without the friends who believed in me, who knew enough to know I’d get there, come hell or high water, who know me well enough to know I don’t give up. The surprise there was finding out who was rooting for me to get there, and who’d rather see me fail, or at the very least, didn’t think I had what it takes.

I couldn’t have done it without the guy who reappeared in my life ten years ago, who made me feel like I was worth something (at least intellectually), convincing me that I was not who the husband said I was, giving me the shove I needed to begin the process of change.

And what a long, brutal, terrifying 10-year process that was.

But I’m here, now, survived, and hopeful for even better things to come.

from Controller to Consultant to Staff Accountant in 10 days

I may never trust a recruiter ever again.

Against my better judgment, I applied for a position listed by a so-called recruitment service. Here’s how the job was listed, and why I bit…

Non-Profit Controller to 65K+ [and yes, that is low for our area]
Are you an experienced Controller/CFO interested in finding a unique and exciting opportunity within the non-profit sector?  Our client, a local Xxxxxxxxxxxx company, has an immediate need for a Controller/CFO with non-profit experience. In this position you will have the opportunity to utilize your Controllership experience as you collaborate with multiple clients on a regular basis to assist them in the growth and development of their organizations. You will manage a team of professionals as you provide a high level of skill in accounting and financial management at an affordable cost. After a brief introductory period, you will have the ability to manage your own schedule and work either remotely or from an office setting.

Candidates should possess a Bachelors or Masters in Accounting (with CPA preferred), experience with Non-profit accounting software (QuickBooks, Peachtree, Sage/MIP Nonprofit, MAS 90, etc.). Flexibility and the ability to multitask are a plus as you will be performing a very dynamic role within our company. Knowledge of and familiarity with Non-Profit organizations, grant reporting, fund accounting, completing month end closing and financial reports, accounts payable and receivable as well as restricted funds experience is preferred. If you are a non-profit professional with strong communication skills, have the ability to work with a variety of clients, and possess the above skills please contact Xxx Xxxxxxx with Xxxxxxt Xxxx Xxxxxxx and Accounting at xxx-xxx-xxxx or e-mail resume to….

Lies. All of it lies.

Go ahead and lie to me if my butt looks fat in those pants or if you hate what I just cooked you for dinner, but don’t lie to me about two things – money/work or love.

Someone sold someone else down the river here, and it’s hard to say who at this point. Maybe the owner really did tell this guy the position was more than it was. [And, by the way, any Director doing an interview should not be chewing electric turquoise gum. It’s unprofessional and revolting. Just saying.] Turns out this is not a controller’s job by any stretch of the imagination, there is no team to manage, and there is no need for high level skills. It’s a bookkeeper’s job. Staff Accountant. I haven’t been called that since I was fresh out of accounting classes. I just finished a corporate tax return (1120) with section 263(a) calculations and the corresponding state tax returns...for 12 states.  Does that sound like a staff accountant to you? Or someone who’d be satisfied to key in data day in, day out? Hardly.

What I look for can’t be that far off base (and yep, I consulted a good business friend, and got concurrence on my list):

a) intellectual stimulation

b) more challenge

c) high(er) income

d) title

e) somewhere I can make a positive difference and

f) somewhere I can influence change

Find me that, Mr. Recruiter.

(pet)peevish

Drivers under the speed limit

Drivers who pull out right in front of you, when there’s no one behind you, and then drive under the speed limit

Non-use of turn signals

Tailgaters (no, not the kind at football games)

Piss poor grammar, spelling, and overall word confusion…loose/lose, its/it’s, sole/soul, good/well, allowed/aloud, bad/badly/poorly, too/to, and when did cheese become chez?….you get the idea…

Even worse punctuation

The spell checker on iPhones

Gossip

Daylight savings time

Form letters from HR departments

Bank deposit slips written in Spanish

Compulsive liars

Embezzlers

Weeds

Dust

Clutter

Dirty floors

Dirty sinks & faucets

Telemarketers

Drama

Chewing gum (human cows)

Excessive aftershave/cologne

Age discrimination (I’m not even close to dead yet)

The word “ain’t” (personally, I don’t think that should be listed in Webster’s as a word at all)

Unanswered emails, voicemails, or texts

Minivans (if you can’t drive ‘em, don’t buy ‘em)

Un-kept promises

Box fans

False advertising

Dirty fingernails

Poor to nonexistent table manners

Broken computers

Simple math errors

Sloppiness

Sloth

Cigarettes (I know; nothing worse than a reformed smoker)

Cancer (specifically, small cell lung cancer, a result of heavy, consistent smoking, the cancer that is probably going to take the husband of one of my good friends)

things I've learned...

..and about time, too. Yes, I'm a bit slow in this department. I freely admit it.

If the guy makes you laugh, pay attention.

If he tells you he likes you with no makeup, likes you just the way you are, pay even more attention…

And if that same guy will stay with you to make sure you sleep through the night, you, my dear, are toast, because this guy cares.

No, no, it’s not me. Just things I hear. Maybe it’s an urban myth. But I know I could fall for a guy like that.

 

fire

I was minding my own business, doing what normal unattached folk do on any given Saturday night, laundry and ironing. All of a sudden, a short arc of electricity sprung from the bottom of the iron and landed on a nearby pillowcase. Visualize a mini-video of a lightning strike, something you'd see on TV. The pillowcase disintegrated and left bits of carbon on the ironing board, and all this in a matter of seconds. I pulled the iron's plug out of the socket, but didn't notice until later that the cord to the iron was frayed half through, wires exposed. The entire laundry room reeked of burnt cotton, but I narrowly averted setting the house on fire, and managed not to electrocute myself in the process.

Three pairs of cats ago, I had a beautiful male cat with a bottlebrush tail. I named him Amby, after Amby Burfoot, the 1968 Boston Marathon winner.
I was living in an apartment back then, making a candlelit dinner for an unworthy male. [I say unworthy only because if he'd been worthy, he'd be here right now, wouldn't he?]
The table was set, and I had candles lit on the nearby buffet as well. Amby decided to hop up and get a better view of what's for dinner.
That magnificent tail flicked through one of the candles and lit up, bottom to top, like an inverse Fourth of July sparkler. Thankfully, it was just the guard hairs at that point.
If there is any way a cat can have a look of horror on its face, this one did. His sprint down the hall effectively extinguished his tail before anything else could catch. We didn't see him for the rest of the night.

Do you remember the old fashioned electric popcorn makers? They were made of thin metal, had a lid and a handle, and sat on open coils in a base that plugged in. Pre-microwave era. I know. Hard to imagine.
Popcorn was a favorite snack back then, and I was in our small kitchen making some. I pulled the popcorn off the burner and started to pour it into a bowl. Some of it fell into the coils, which were still red with heat. The corn started to burn. A lot. Flames were licking close to the underside of the kitchen cabinets. My ten year old mind thought that qualified as a possible emergency.
Building codes back then didn't require smoke detectors. I did what any well-trained grade school child would do. I yelled "fire."
Boy, was my mother pissed. Not that I set a fire, but that I scared the shit out of her with my yelling. I never could figure that out.

Starting to see a trend...?

resolutions

We’re all three weeks into our new lives. How’s it going?

The jury’s still out here.

I actually didn’t make any resolutions. Not really. Well, ok, fine, maybe a few, but nothing life shattering. I read something recently, and while I can’t remember whose quote it was (I think Anaїs Nin), and can’t remember her exact words either, what she essentially said was that every day she wakes up, she plans and critiques her own life. Like Groundhog Day, only it’s New Year’s Day every single day.

That’s so me; every day an assessment of the day before, and a hope that the new day will be better.

Not that I don’t have goals. I have plenty.  This year and from this year forward, I’ve a goal to read a book a month. I’m a total book addict; as of right this minute, I have exactly 214 unread books in this house. Worse, I’m dying to go to the bookstore and buy three or four more that are on my list (Barnes & Noble, I miss you so much).  So, if I read one a month…OK, either I better live a good long time, or learn to read faster. Or resign myself to letting them be merely part of the décor, which they are, of course, rather than here for edification, amusement, enlightenment, or something to kill boredom when the electricity goes out.

I suppose there’s more:

-          Use the good dishes. What the hell am I saving them for?

-          Get email under control.

-          Cook something different, instead of the same old crap. Assuming, after last December’s cooking blitz, that I’ll ever want to cook again.

-          No more muttering out loud while roaming the grocery store aisles. At least not if someone else is in the same row.

-          Develop a tolerance for stupid (nothing like setting myself up for failure).

-          Stop eating every meal at my desk in front of the computer. Though it’s true, I’ve gotten used to ingesting fur.

-          Floss.

-          Be nice to my ex’s. Tough to do, but they can’t help themselves. There’s seemingly no cure for egos run amok or WDS. [Hint to Mr. Uniform – Linked In is not Facebook or a dating site, and certainly not the place to register all those notches in your bedpost (which I assume, in real life, looks like it was attacked by termites).]

Off I go to knock the dust off the treadmill (yep, that’s on the list, too)….let’s see how we all do, a month from now….