Bad Day

Have you ever had a bad day that just wouldn’t go away? Mine has lasted a week so far. I don’t even want to crawl out of my hole that I’ve self-created for fear of more destruction. Once, in college, I heard that a definition of depression is not feeling happy for more than three weeks.
What’s wrong you ask? A thousand little cuts I say. The loss of something tenuous with a friend, not having the ability to comfort another one, the isolation that I myself experience. I’m never alone but sometimes I’m ALWAYS alone. The loss of a pet at work, cases experiencing complications, too much riding on just me, the frustrations of trying to be a great mom and feeling like I’m failing at it.
And I thought to myself tonight, as I was frantically trying to get all the dishes done, the clothes washed, the kid’s week organized, I thought- “In all the time that I’ve been working with a management company, I can’t recall anyone ever saying that I was a good boss.” Maybe I’m not cut out for this. I always thought that I was relaxed and reserved enough not to lose it in the workplace, but I did last week, and my nerves seem constantly near the surface.
I’m embarrassed to be me. And I’m pretty sure all the groveling in the world isn’t going to make it better and, since I did make my bed, I’m pretty confident that I should lie in it. Any thought of getting out and just leaving is beyond complicated. But the thought of a new start somewhere else is sweet and cloying.
Don’t get me wrong, I have the support of a huge amount of my community- if I didn’t I would have cut and run a long time ago (It’s just too hard for me to overcome my need to please others). But sometimes I just feel mired. I’m sure everyone does. I even tried to start a professional women’s blog for feelings like this, but it went over like a lead balloon- maybe we’re all too busy to actually participate.
So I guess I’m going in to the office in the morning and apologizing yet again (not that I will ever apologize enough), and PRETEND that I’m ok. Maybe if I pretend I’m ok, I will be eventually.

Stolen from the internet- reminds me of my Grandpa
Stolen from the internet- reminds me of my Grandpa

Electronic Post-its

I had an electronic post-it today. Remember the iconic breakup in “Sex and the City” where the guy Berger breaks up with Carrie on a post-it? Well, welcome to the new generation. Now these jewels come in the form of text messages.

You see, I’ve never been able to see my coworkers as just coworkers. They are my family. I invite you in to my “circle of trust,” and I am involved. These are, after all, the circle of people who protect me from bites and kicks, help me clean up my messes and with whom I spend the majority of my waking hours. We support each other through thick and thin. We laugh, make jokes and enjoy each other.

So I received a two-week notice the other day. Big, happy news requiring some big changes. Then, BAM!, a few days after, we got a text message saying that it was too hard to finish out two weeks and look for a new job. Yep, you read it right- via text!

What the heck?

First, as a friend all I can say is, wow? I can’t say I’m surprised at the rashness or even at the type of communication.  But I would like to call you out on that. You. Know. Better. How did this situation differ from last time?

Second, as an employer, WOW. In one fateful day, you have wrecked my schedule, put more stress on your ex-coworkers and given yourself an outstanding asterisk in your recommendation, should you ever be brave enough to ask for one (and it wouldn’t surprise me).  Where is the capable common sense that I hired?

I was discussing the post-it in a joking manner with another client and he burst out that this is the problem with that generation, no responsibility, no owning up to the fact that someone else’s life is majorly affected by what should be a relatively small inconvenience to you.  I was taken aback by his passion that this Millennial generation is so screwy. I’d like to give them more hope than that. My optimism urges me to.  Do we think that there is hope?

My Saturday afternoon with the cows
My Saturday afternoon with the cows

Should we text and ask them?

Friendships

How do we cultivate friendships?

Wow, first up I don’t have many close friendships. I haven’t had time to cultivate them properly. The ones that I do have I love dearly. I’m an introvert, I’m cautious and like many of us, I’ve been burnt more than once.

But I want them and I need them.

My husband’s one of those guys that you take to a conference with you and he’s made 15 friends by the end of the first day. I watched him recently to see what his gifts are and it’s sure been interesting. First, he’s unforgettable in a crowd. Meaning, he is slightly loud, tall, thin and with an accent that just causes people to notice. (So is this the sign that I really should get the purple streak in my hair that I’ve been secretly thinking about but won’t get because I feel like it’s distracting from my professionalism??)  Second, he loves a bar. He says that he was born to sit at a bar. So he places himself smack dab in an environment where people are there to mingle. Or he congregates around the coffee in the back of the conference room.  Then he just introduces himself and asks them all of these questions. At our last conference, he managed to find the one fellow farmer in the room, next thing I know I’m having a great casual dinner out with this farmer and his veterinarian wife.  At a conference recently I had the opportunity to meet Forbes Riley, a luminary of a lady who has made a living selling on TV infomercials as well as being an actress. She talked about how to make people remember your name and to make yourself useful to them. Basically you need a name hook and then you need to let them know how you can be useful to them. Seems like really good advice!

But I feel like it’s more than just the ability to meet people when it comes to friendship.

Ever feel that in this life that time is no longer linear? Here’s where my guilt comes in- I’ll admit that I am not a reliable friend. That I’ve often been too busy and I’ve used that as an excuse. I have a sneaking feeling, however, that if I were a better communicative friend, that time would cease to be so herky jerky and eventually smooth out some. I’m sort of panicky that I’m letting it slide.

So, I’ve decided to do something that I’ve considered to be dorky and beneath me. I’m going to place reminders on my phone of birthdays, anniversaries and simply reminders to call.

I’m also going to find some new friends. Outside of work, and hopefully outside my profession.

 

Who I am…

Welcome to my blog!  I’m a woman. I’m a Mom. I’m a wife. I’m a mixed animal practice owner in a rural town. As my business has grown, I’ve struggled to learn and implement business strategies, personal life time, family time and wife time. As the epidemic with depression and suicide in my profession has been revealed, dialogs have opened and I have contemplated what it means to me personally and professionally. I have decided that I have things to say! I am also seeking a community that enriches my life and supports me.

For many years, I have been putting one foot in front of the other, much like I did in school, with the blind faith that I will come to a moment of clarity and all of a sudden, I’ll just realize that my goal has materialized.  It wasn’t all that long ago that I realized that I needed goals and projects to help maintain my enthusiasm in a job that can routinely work me 70 hours a week. These goals can be fluid, they can change, but they are the deadlines and the drive forward for me. Knowledge is the propulsion for me. If I don’t have purpose in these things, my life swells up to swallow me and I start worrying.

With the help of some consulting services, I have found a community of like-minded people whose shared experiences are grounding and freeing for me. I have experiences to share, things to say, places to go. I think there are others out there like me that are searching for intellectual stimulation and inspiration for their lives.

I started out like most of us did, enthralled and surrounded by animals. My grandfather enabled me. My aunt shaped me. My mother tolerated me. I grew up on a working farm in southwest Virginia. Idyllic setting. We had beef cattle, horses, sheep, pigs, chickens, a turkey or two, some stuck-up geese and some elusive guinea fowl. I ended up with the outdoor dog and bunch of farm cats. I had a pony. I adored the sheep barn and probably far more early than I should have been allowed, I sat on an upturned 55 gal drum and pulled shots up when we were working cattle. I suppose because they knew that they didn’t have to watch me as closely if I was stranded on a barrel in the middle of the action. During shearing, I was paid $8/day to pack wool. When I was old enough, I would take off on adventures with my pony.

Everyone knew my path before I did.

I loved school, the smell of pencils, the excitement of a well-organized new notebook. I liked math. I had one amazing Algerbra teacher and one kick-ass scary Calculus teacher. I had a riveting, encouraging Biology teacher. One that was a hell of a lot better than my college one. I have drive. I wouldn’t call it ambition necessarily. Just a bulldog tenacity not to give up. Even I knew by the time I applied for veterinary college. I knew that the smart thing was to have a Plan B, because so many people get rejected from vet school, but I just KNEW.

Twenty-one years of school later….

Going back to that no-ambition thing. I was happy to be a general practitioner, honest. I took my first job, with a go-get-‘em, all-for-one-one-for-all attitude. I loved being a large animal vet. I got married. I had my first kid. And then, bam. It’s darned hard to find non-family childcare for a 7:30 to 6:30 shift, it was time to go home.

My husband and I knew each other since high school. We didn’t date until the last weeks of vet school. I adore him. He’s BADASS. My greatest champion. My one-and-only. We’ve been together 11 years. We have two awesome boys. He has shaped me in more positive ways than I can count. I learned not to be serious. I learned to stand up for myself. I have someone who finally understands ALL of me (or at least accepts me!).

Post-moving home…. I expected to do what I had been doing, what our county had been missing- large animal work. Boy, was I wrong about the needs of the county, and my skill set. The community support was amazing. I re-learned a lot of small animal medicine. I referred a lot. I worked. A lot.

I loved being my own boss. I loved my employees. I loved my clients. By the time I was pregnant with my second child I was tired. I found an associate and I really became a boss. My little strip-mall site kept growing and growing. You couldn’t find a spot in the parking lot. I was crawling over people to see clients. I had to move. I built big. Ten years of Veterinary Economics magazine guided me. My gut guided me. I ended up with 6000 square feet of beauty! A big red barn. On my own terms… And I also ended up with 20 employees and NO prior training or professional support. And, remember that I was still Mom to two little boys and trying hard to be wife. And ANYONE else than just Dr. Anne.

Understandably, I went through a crisis, precipitated by a family issue. Imagine that. Big ole bad me was still haunted by some unresolved issues from when my Dad died of cancer twenty years before. I learned that I was right to be hurt, but that I was responsible for my own feelings and my reaction to them. Sounds intuitive right? Pretty tough cookies to swallow for a professional school educated woman.

The difference that saved me? A management company and a great office manager. Executives can only effectively manage 5 people. Five. Despite working in high school and college I had never held a management position. The eye was too much on the goal. It needed to be. I was paranoid with all of the stories about employees embezzling money. Of the stories of mismanaged money. Of paying $3K in credit card interest annually instead of that money being in my pocket. I simply couldn’t be an effective doctor, therefore making money, and do everything by myself too. But how was I supposed to monitor and KNOW if the business was thriving. Simple and intuitive answer you say? Probably, but implementation in the midst of chaos was more than intimidating. My husband was appalled when I spent the money on the management company. But they were breaking it down for me, into bite sized, personal pieces, and they were giving me tiny, doable baby deadlines. Also, they were telling me how awesome I was.

I am awesome. I don’t mean that in an insufferable way, I mean that if I don’t have a positive stream of consciousness then it’s easy to be sucked into the daily doubts, drama and sometimes overwhelming sense of responsibility of my job. It is my job as a leader, a business owner, a doctor, a mom and a wife to stay as healthy and positive as I can be. I have my dark days for sure. I have the crises that make me question why I torture myself with this heavy of a workload when someone’s neglect threatens to topple everything.

In short, I have felt moved, to share my experience. To create a sounding board. Welcome to my blog.