What I'm learning

2013 is already 2/3 over. Can you believe that? This year has been a huge one for me in terms of transitions. I left a job that, in the short year that I was there, almost turned me into something completely unrecognizable. I started a business - well, two, actually. We moved from our little condo into a little house with our new little dog. I've formed closer bonds with new people, and learned quite a few new skills. And we've had quite a few ups and downs - career and job struggles, the frustrations of moving, planning a family in our future, and learning new ways of coping with stress. In short, it's been a real year for growth. Here are a few things I've learned:

1) Trying to please everybody is a wasted effort. I've always shied away from confrontation, because I just generally want to be liked. I've always been a bit of an introvert, too, figuring that people won't talk about me as much if I don't give them material to work with. But the fact is, people are going to talk, and they'll always find something to criticize. It's been an unexpected blow to me to find that, despite all my efforts to be Ms. Perfect, not everyone thinks I'm great! And that people tell other people that I'm not great! And they don't say everything about me to my own face! I'm not sure if it was my giant ego or just being wrapped up in my own little world, but this shocked me, and made me realize that I may as well do and say what I want after all rather than trying to be some convoluted contortion of what other people think is OK.

2) Just ask. The worst thing that can happen is that someone will say no. If they act grumpy while they do it, it's their problem, not yours.

3) It's not as bad as you think it is. You lose a client. Someone gets pissed off at you. You'll find another client. There are a bunch of people who are not pissed off at you. Get over it, move on.

4) It is possible to function on less sleep than you think. No, seriously. Some of my best work in the last 4 months has been done on 2 hours or less. That said, you also need to catch up on sleep once the busy time has passed.

5) You don't have to be busy all the time. This was so hard to figure out when I first left my job in March. I had days where I was spinning my wheels, and it sent me into a big panic. I kept wondering what I was doing wrong. The answer: nothing. I just wasn't used to having down time or having nothing to worry about, so my body was automatically sending those "panic" signals through because that's just what it was used to doing. I can't even imagine what it would've been like if I stayed at that job for more than a year, and how hard it would've been to come down off of that cliff.

6) Your work will expand to fill the time you have. This lesson is really hard for me. Give me two assignments that are completely identical in terms of scope and skill. Put a deadline on the first one and give me unlimited time to complete the second one. The first one will get done in a snap. The second one? I will work on it until I'm dead, and I'll do nothing else productive while it's pending. I will look at it, write a sentence, go check Facebook, make a burrito, come back and write another sentence, check Facebook again, play with Scout, rinse, and repeat. Then I'll complain the whole time about how long this stupid assignment took me to finish!

7) There are people who will never take ownership in anything. These are the people you work with who leave their assignments unfinished for you to pick up after. These are the people who do not hold themselves accountable and do not care that their sloppiness screws you over. These are people who shove their work off on you while they get to go home each day at 5:30 while you stay until 8 and 9pm. They think it's okay that they forget to do things, because it comes down on your head instead of theirs, and that's fine with them. They will never do more than what you ask them to do, they will never take responsibility for organizing a project, and they will often do less than what you ask them to do. At some point, you have to stop putting up with them. These people are not grown-ups, they are over-grown kids, and it's not up to you to pick up after them. It's OK to let them fail and to let them take the blame for failing.

Anyone else have any lessons from 2013 to share in the comments?

That downright horrible, no good nasty week

It has been a toughie. Note that this won't be a "writing" post - I am in need of a good venting. This should perhaps explain my lack of recent progress on my book. Or perhaps not. Either way, I need to get it off of my chest. I will return to our regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.

It actually started on Friday the 13th. Figures, huh? How utterly cliche. I got a traffic ticket in the mail for one of those video cameras that catches you running a red light. So that's $100 I'm out. Truthfully, I brought it on myself, but that doesn't make it less annoying.

That day, I also got some very bad news for one of my clients. It was a combination of factors I can't really go into, but all of it boils down to me not being in control of everything or even anything when it comes to this client. The complete lack of professional courtesy from the other side's attorneys also did not help.

The weekend was actually fantastic - I got to be with my family for my grandmother's birthday, and it was so incredibly good to see them. I even stayed in a hotel like a grown-up or something. I got the room to myself (hubs had to stay home) and just kind of spread out, made a mess I wouldn't have to clean up (ok, don't worry, not THAT big of a mess), used the gym facilities, etc.

But then I came home on Sunday to find my husband nursing our dog. Our poor, poor old boxer. He has been bed-ridden for over a year now as he aged to the point where he could not walk. He's been on various pain medications due to arthritis. Well, on Sunday he couldn't keep any food or water down, and he gradually got to the point where we could just tell it was time. None of the vets were open, so I had to call around and find someone who could make a house call. We sat with him and petted him and told him what a good dog he was as he went to sleep for the last time.

I can't tell you how unbelievably sad it is to watch the dog who has been such a good friend to you for years slowly stop breathing and grow still. But to other dog owners out there: do not let your own sadness get in the way of you being there for your pet. Your voice is the only thing that is good and familiar to them, your presence is the thing that they understand. The fact that you are there with them is more important to them than anything else in the world. Be there for your pet if you have to put them down - it is the least you can do for them. They love you more than anything else; only you can make the transition easier on them as they leave this world.

Compared to that, the events of the week following seem fairly trivial, but it all just served to create a low-grade nastiness that followed me around the entire time. Our home is grieving. My work was stressing me out and exhausting me as I attempted to fix this problem for this poor client all week, struggling to find guidance and help. Another situation also deteriorated for another client - it was over quickly, but certainly didn't help my outlook. (Isn't it great reading a lawyer's blog? We're always so specific.) My rotten attitude has also triggered some physical symptoms - exhaustion, soreness, a feeling like I'm slightly sick. It's amazing how the cycle perpetuates itself. You feel bad mentally, so you start to feel bad physically, which only makes you feel worse mentally, and so on. It's a hard thing to kick.

Yesterday was better. We gave a free legal seminar in the community, and people really appreciated it, which felt good. I came home and slept some more - I think I'm suffering from some really mild depression and the sleep has helped. Then we went out for sushi and bought some goodies at Trader Joe's. Nothing exploded. It feels like things have settled down a bit. In the off-chance that karma is real, I'm contemplating buying a lottery ticket to cash in on all the crap that happened last week.

Today has also helped. Singing at church was uplifting and I really felt moved for the first time in a while. Other than the beer I'm currently sipping (what?? it's 5:00 somewhere), I've eaten pretty healthy so far. I feel well-rested. I'm thinking of making it to the gym later today. Recovering from a crummy week is a weird thing - it's not like I've been seriously injured, but I'm approaching life gingerly as if I had been. How do you cheer yourself up when you've had a rough patch?

Where have you built equity?

This is not a blog post about investing money. Well, at least not directly. Investment often requires some kind of monetary expense. But really, what I'm contemplating is the more important investment - how you invest your time. In other words, how you've invested in yourself.

Money is a great example of what I'm talking about, though. I think everyone dreams about a bigger bank account, in some way or another. But to do that, you have to start with that first few bucks that you stash away.

The same is true with your career. There are the people we envision have made it big overnight. Some people may even have that good fortune. But take any successful person you wish to emulate, and if you really listen to their story, you'll find that they had to spend some not insignificant amount of time building equity in their chosen calling. The kids who made it big at 18 spent most of their teen years learning programming languages, watching their peers set trends, or just generally putting time and energy into what they wanted to do instead of engaging in under-aged drinking or other teenage antics. By the time they were ready to graduate from high school, they'd perhaps spent 2 to 4 years already taking action on what they wanted to do in life.

It takes a special kind of focus and drive to do that at a young age. It takes a really special amount of focus and drive to do that as you get older. You take on responsibilities - a family, a mortgage. What you wanted to spend your time on and how you earn a living have become two entirely different things.  After all, you write because you love it, not because you want to earn money off of it.

But what if we realized that we could build equity in a career writing, or making art, just as we can in any other career, and that it could potentially end up paying off? One trap I've fallen into time and again with any business idea I try to create is that if I don't get an immediate payoff, I'm a failure, it didn't work, it's time to start over again. How many people might end up feeling that way about their first book? I know that's something that terrifies me. What if I publish this novel that I've been putting my time, heart, and effort into, and it doesn't go anywhere? 

And that's when it helps to remember that this is only the first step in a longer journey - a bigger career. It isn't a matter of clicking "publish" but what happens leading up to that, and what happens following that, which determines where you'll end up. It's the same in any career. There are a few people I know of that got the office in the sky with the six-figure salary after graduating law school (which may or may not be the blessing it seems), but most of the attorneys I know that are making the money and getting the cases in the fields they want to work in are those that stuck with it through the grunt work in the early years. The writers that are successful - whether Indie or not - are those that stuck with it after a flop, or have been writing for years and improving their craft until they got to where they wanted to be.

So, where have you built your equity?         

Diversify or Concentrate?

I have been bombarded with choices my entire life. It's really defined me as a person in many ways, mainly because it's left me virtually incapable of making a decision.

I still remember when I was growing up, my parents took me out furniture shopping for a new bedroom set when we moved to Richmond, VA. I can't tell you how many different furniture stores we went to, how many different sets of beds and dressers I looked at, how many different styles there were to choose from. It was exhausting. It was frustrating. I hated every second of it.

In retrospect, I know I was lucky to even have the option of going furniture shopping for my own room. But at the time, I really could not have cared less. I was fifteen, I had no taste whatsoever (and still don't), and every time I actually made a decision about something I liked, my parents would remind me of my dozens of other options, as if I'd somehow made the wrong choice. Granted, one of those choices involved zebra prints and lots of reflective surfaces, but hey -- they asked me what I wanted. We fortunately ended up with a very tasteful set of furniture. I, of course, had nothing to do with selecting it. Which is probably for the best. I was kind of resentful of all of the fruitless furniture shopping trips, though.

Years later, I take the experience as a lesson in a theory I've been developing lately. There is something to be said for a lack of options. It's efficient. It focuses your attention away from all of the fluff, and hopefully puts you in a position to make the best choice out of what you have to work with.

The same is true of selecting a profession. I once had a dean at my undergraduate college explain to me why he hated approving credit overloads for students - he felt like people were spreading their studies too thin, perhaps in hopes of covering just enough ground that they'd be employable to someone, somewhere. He kept having to approve credit overloads for people who were double- and triple-majors, with additional minors in underwater basket weaving as a fall-back. But looking around at the job market these days, it seems like more opportunities are available for people that focused themselves - they picked something, and just went for it. All or nothing.

I think the same can be said for writing. More success is available to those who focus.

Think about it. If you decide that all you want to be is a writer - or a singer, or an actor - what would you do differently? How would you spend your time? You could focus on your craft AND work on the business end of things. Could you think of ways to make ends meet while you focus on your dream?

But then consider how things might be going now, while you're trying to "diversify" - working another full-time job, writing during off hours, squeezing it in when you can. I think this describes a lot of people who are trying to get by financially while holding out some hope of pursuing their dreams on the side.

It doesn't bode well for me, either. I'm not gonna lie - I diversify all over the place. I split my time over a gajillion different projects. My writing performance is spotty at best. I'm not even going to admit to you how many times I haven't gone to the gym lately. I take on so many goals at once, all of them end up suffering in the long-term.

Don't take this post as a ringing endorsement to go out and quit your job immediately (although I wouldn't blame you if you do). But it's food for thought - if you could focus, and concentrate, and just do what you want to do instead of diversifying over several different things, what could you accomplish? Do you see the value if only doing a few things well instead of doing many things at a mediocre level? Can you work towards that now?

From beyond the grave...

OK, maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration. But, yes, I've been inactive posting here for a while. I got a new job back in March and I've been working some very long hours. I'm writing this as I prepare to scarf a Jimmy Dean D-Lights breakfast sandwich and some coffee on my way to court. Yes, I'm a lawyer.

And the one thing I've started to learn about this job is that, to be a lawyer, really, all you have to want is to be a lawyer. You can't really want to be anything else, because there is no time for it. So you'd better love what you do.

I don't know many people who feel that way about their work. And it makes me wonder what will happen during other phases of my life. My husband and I plan to have kids some day. Will I be able to be a lawyer at the same time? I'm not really sure. 

I'm still trying to maintain my writing aspirations, a little bit at a time. After spending all day at a computer, the last thing I want to do is sit down at one again to write, so I got a notebook and I'm just scribbling away before bed each night. It's actually been pleasant. 

But the one thing I've really done is made a decision. I'm currently working on my dream book. The One Idea that I've had since I was 14 years old, that I've been imagining and jotting things down about for years. 

It breaks my heart to say it, but I don't really have the time or energy to dedicate to my dream book right now. When I do it, I want to do it right (write?). 

But that's not going to stop me. I wrote another book a few years ago that I love. It was a crazy project for me - way out of my usual genre - and I loved every minute of writing it. It's been sitting on my hard drive since 2007, waiting patiently for me to finish editing. Yesterday, it made a huge demand. I was nonchalantly driving to work, thinking about motorcycle season, when WHAM. The title came to me. And, honestly, I love this title. 

Clearly, this book wants to get off of my hard drive. And, lawyer or not, I need to make that happen.

I wish I had some more fanfare or a cover to share or something like that. I'd like to sit on the title for a bit until I have something spiffy to go with it and give it the presentation it deserves. But the book itself is just fun. It's a chick lit. And it's about the softer side of motorcycles.

More to come soon!

Highs and lows

So, my last post was about the "constructive layoff" my law firm did on February 24th. Since then, life's been pretty hectic. I was trying to decide what to do as I went about my week and worried about my loss of income.

My week started with a general feeling of vacancy and failure. I went about business as usual, thinking that some kind of activity under the commission-only pay structure was better than nothing. I met with another attorney from my firm in the area and did a ride-along with him. I came home, did my own thing, and fretted about what to do. I went to networking events; instead of promoting my law firm, I let people know that I was an unemployed attorney looking for work.

By the end of the week, I was facing the inevitable: it was time to dip into my dwindling savings and start living off of that again until I either started making commission or found a new job. On Friday morning, I went to a networking event at the Chamber of Commerce of a nearby town. It was a good event, but I was fretting and stressed. When it was over, I checked my cell phone. One missed call, and a voicemail.

It was an attorney I had spoken with at a networking event earlier that week, and he wanted me to call him back ASAP. I obliged; his office was less than a mile away from where I was, and did I want to come in for an interview? Um, yes.

Long story short, I spent a grand total of 7 days on a commission-only pay structure - i.e. effectively unemployed. My new job starts Monday.

Good: I get to be a lawyer. I get to get paid. The commute is pretty good, and it's in the opposite direction of traffic.
Bad: We probably have to put our dog down.

He requires pretty much round-the-clock care due to his age; he can't walk, and he is on an incontinence bed. He cannot flip himself over or anything.

It's a mixed bag. I'm happy that I'm moving forward with my career, but it's always sad to lose a pet. Plus, I have no illusions about the kinds of hours I'll be working henceforth.

Something else that was a little unexpected is that I am sad to say goodbye to my (now former) boss. While working for that law firm was tough due to all of the uncertainty and pressure that goes with being part of a start-up, the one thing I will say about my old boss is that he was a kind person. He genuinely seemed to care about his team, and he wished me nothing but the best. That's not something that can be said often about people working in the legal industry. In fact, I rarely ever see it in general.

I wish circumstances had been different. If finances weren't a concern, I'd want to stay with that firm indefinitely, just because working for a kind person is important to me. Sadly, I have six figures of student loan debt to worry about. For now, I need some kind of steady income coming in while I build my empire.

Well. That's not too great.

I've been trying to focus on posting blog entries that have at least an iota of general interest lately, but there's really no getting around some recent events that are occupying my brain. In a nutshell, I've been constructively laid off by my law firm, and it's creating a pretty mixed bag of emotions.

Essentially, this is what's happened: I was hired among a group of almost 20 other attorneys back in November/December. We were put on a base-plus-commission compensation plan to help establish an expanding legal practice; the partners had been practicing in the South for about 25 years or so and were looking to create a nationwide law firm, utilizing online tools to help us run an efficient practice across about 20 states. The firm's revenue goals were extremely aggressive, but it was giving me a chance to:   a) work from home, b) work in estate planning (my preferred area of law), c) establish my own law practice while providing me with a small safety net of income and some experienced support.

The business plan for the firm evolved as they realized the immediate revenue potential was less than they'd hoped for. I think part of the problem is that they don't really remember what it's like to be building a practice from the ground up, which is what we're doing in Chicago (where no one has ever heard of my law firm before). The investment capital started to dry up because they were too aggressive, and ultimately became unsustainable.

I have been offered a commission-only position with the firm that I'm considering taking as a part-time endeavor, as long as it doesn't end up costing me anything, as I can't currently afford many expenses. My path isn't very clear to me right now, and I want to be careful about making a decision so I don't end up in this same position all over again in a few more months. I know I'm going to have to do something else to earn money in the meantime, I just haven't decided exactly what that is, or if I'll change fields entirely.

I'm not as devastated as I think I should be, probably because I started suspecting a few weeks ago that something like this might happen. Also, I have other things on my plate at the moment - I'm writing, I'm working on real estate projects, and I can always go back to freelancing to make a little money if necessary. While I am feeling a bit frustrated and off-balance, I also feel a bit of hopefulness too. This job hadn't been panning out exactly as I'd planned - I wasn't making as much in commission as they'd projected, I wasn't getting to do very much legal work, and I wasn't enjoying the high-pressure sales aspect of it. I think this change is helping me avoid complacency by keeping me from settling for a position I wasn't thrilled about.

It's also made me think about how much things have changed. The general consensus always seems to be that you can be successful if you have a job. But relying on jobs as a sole source of income is something my generation probably shouldn't do; these days, it's just as unstable and unreliable as any other way of making money, including investments, the stock market, starting your own business, etc. The only real way to achieve financial security is through diversification - having multiple sources of income that don't all rely on the same source (e.g. the job market, the housing market, the stock market).

Anyways, that's about it. So, for now, here's my shingle: "Will Write For Food!"

Dishonesty May Not Be Your Best Strategy. Just Saying.

I'm an estate planning attorney. I don't hide this fact from people, but I'm also not pushy about asking people if they need my services. I feel that this method works best for attracting business, and I'm honest about what I do and what I charge for what I do. That's why it bugs the hell out of me when people don't extend me the same courtesy.

I was at a church function last week, and one of the members I met was someone affiliated with a financial institution. I often network with such people, because we often work well together in providing holistic services to our clients. He invited me to an event that took place yesterday morning across town, explaining I'd get to meet several people in his industry and get to hand out business cards. It sounded like an expo or a networking event, so I agreed.

Saturday morning, I woke up early, drove an hour across town, and ended up sitting through a 2 hour presentation about why I should sell life insurance to people. I then explained I wasn't really interested, got a condescending facial expression that suggested I wasn't "all there" mentally, and drove an hour home.

To be fair, I did get to hand out a few business cards and possibly made a few connections, but if I had been told the real nature of this event, I probably wouldn't have gone. In fact, I feel grossly misled. If I run into this individual at church again, I intend to be civil, but not particularly friendly. I have sat through these kinds of presentations before, back when I was exploring a career as a future CFP, but was turned off due to how incredibly condescending they are. First of all, I had been effectively lied to to get me there and take up 4 hours of my precious free time. Second of all, I didn't like the implication that I was some kind of chump if I didn't take advantage of an "awesome part-time opportunity to earn lots and lots of $$$$!" Just an FYI, if you are a successful person and prefer doing what you currently do versus selling insurance, WFG/TransAmerica thinks you're dumb. And they'll take 2 hours to tell you so.

What really grates on my nerves is how someone who effectively misled me about this event can then act surprised and mildly offended that I didn't want to join his sales group. And that he and his branch manager would try to argue with me about it. I'm familiar with the importance of "overcoming objections" in sales. It's a necessary skill and it's a good one to learn. However, there's a huge difference between engaging in a discussion meant to overcome an objection versus arguing with someone who honestly isn't interested and is pretty miffed about being there in the first place.

Please note: I don't have anything against people that sell insurance. In fact, I think insurance is a very important thing to have. In my line of work, we actually emphasize to our clients that they should have comprehensive insurance coverage if they can afford it - it should be an absolute financial priority, along with retirement planning. It's like estate planning - I never want people to have to USE it, but if they have it, it can make a HUGE difference in a bad situation.

Have you ever sat through a bad sales pitch? Are you painfully polite or can you stomp out without batting an eyelash?

How do you get organized?

I have a lot going on at home -

1) I work from home as something resembling an attorney

2) I write from home as something resembling a novelist

3) I live at home as something resembling a wife

4) I occasionally sing and dance at home as something resembling a crazy person

As such, I find it a little difficult to stay organized. I accumulate a LOT of paper, much of which I digitize under password and then destroy, but it doesn't keep it from piling up. Just an FYI, it's true that lawyers tend to be after money. That's because being a lawyer is freaking expensive. Between leftover loans from law school and the bar exam, licensing fees, bar association fees, and subscriptions to all the crap we need  in order to stay informed about our particular areas of law (not to mention any other office overhead we need to maintain), I always marvel at anyone who manages to actually be profitable as an attorney. And it's no wonder that it's expensive to have all of that stuff - because everyone involved in the legal industry in this state is always sending me paper!

Then there's the writing. I thank NaNoWriMo on a daily basis for introducing me to Scrivener. I bought it the first time I participated in NaNo back in 2007 and haven't looked back. I think part of the reason I like to escape into noveling is because it's actually one area of my life that it's not too difficult to organize, and I keep it all on my computer (except the occasional map I draw out when I need to visualize something - I have no skill as a graphic artist on the computer; printer paper and a #2 pencil all the way, baby). If so inclined though, I do have the ability to scan those bits of paper and then stick them in Scrivener so I don't have to freak out if I lose track of my physical copies.

I'm also going to admit a dirty little secret: I kind of like being a little housewifey. I like cooking. I like cleaning. I don't really like doing laundry, but I'll do it, and I like the sense of accomplishment I feel afterwards. That is the one area where I don't feel completely scatterbrained and out of control - I know I can bring order and sense to my household without so much as batting an eyelash. 

The one place where my writing really suffers, though, is due to how I organize my time. I've been trying to make good use of the technology available to me - I use iCloud to synchronize my work calendar and my personal calendar. I bring my iPad everywhere so I can do small tasks while I'm stuck in waiting rooms. I maintain to-do lists, I have a whiteboard that lists all of my long- and short-term goals. But somehow, I have a hard time deciding what I'm really supposed to be doing at any given moment. 

Perhaps it's because I work from home, leading to a blending of my personal time and my work time. Even when I'm "off the clock," I feel a bit guilty for doing housework or writing at home. I've actually been contemplating going to the coffee shop nearby to write so I have some separation from my work space, except that kind of cuts into my personal time with my husband, and adds an extra step when I want to get up and start cleaning. I sometimes wonder if working from home is the best arrangement for me, when I have such a hard time distinguishing between how I spend my time. Sometimes, I literally stall out, and end up getting nothing done for a few hours while I try to decide what I should be doing. 

How do you compartmentalize your time? Do you maintain a rigorous schedule, and if so, do you manage to stick to it? 

Sick at Work? Go Home. No, Seriously.

Admit it: If you have a regular day job, and someone calls in sick, at least 75% of the time, you judge them.

I know I do it.

I think I've become incredibly jaded, partially because I was in a supervisory position for a brief period of time and relied upon people to come in and do their share of work, and sometimes (in fact, many times), I got left up the creek without a paddle. Even when I wasn't a semi-supervisor, I saw people sneak sick days all the time. Let's be honest: often, the only sickness we are really suffering is one involving "mental health," where if we don't call in sick, we're likely to show up and open fire.

But then there are those people. Or, for some of us, there are just those times, where we feel the obligation to work, even if we have been known to take those mental health days. You know what I'm talking about: coming into work sick, with a growing pile of tissues near the desk, coughing, hacking, and sneezing through the day. You can just feel the germs emanating from that cubicle, landing on you and taking up residence in your sinuses.

Why do people go to work sick? I have a few theories:

1) When I actually got sick days, I hated to waste valuable sick time on actually being sick. At the time, I would rather go to work half-dead and struggle through it, and reserve my sick time for those days where I was merely mentally fatigued and wanted to curl up with a good book or some daytime TV. 

2) Ego. Think about it: if you are a boss, and you see one of your employees come in even though they are obviously sick, part of you does kind of think "OK, this person is showing some dedication." I know I always felt that way as an employee: look at me! I'm sick, but I'm coming to work anyways! I must be awesome! (Granted, I had usually taken a few mental health days before then, thereby negating any real status boost I might've gained... oh, to be young and naive again...) Plus, let's face it, when we go to work sick, we do feel pretty virtuous about it.

3) These days: no sick time. This is an unfortunate reality of the present day workplace. I've been a part of this group of people as well - where waking up doesn't involve that quick calculation of "how many sick hours do I have left?" Instead, it involves, "How much can I afford to spend this month if I don't go to work today?"

I'm very fortunate in that I get to work from home a lot of the time; however, my day job involves a very significant amount of business development activity, meaning I am constantly venturing forth to networking events or face-to-face meetings to find some new people that might be willing to send me some business. I've been fairly insulated from whatever general illnesses have been circulating the population, though, until I decided to attend a bar association event on Wednesday.

What the hell is it about lawyers that makes them all fall into category #2? There wasn't a person in that room that wasn't sniffling, sneezing, or coughing. And for the first time (as I felt the germs invading my body), all I could think was, "Really, people? You couldn't stay home today?" I've been blessed with fairly good health for the past 9 months, and am not eager to acquire the yearly cold/upper respiratory infection I usually manage to get somewhere between November and March. I thought I might squeak by this year, but to no avail. Unfortunately, my symptoms started to manifest while I was making my way through the annual International Motorcycle Show in Chicago. I typically really enjoy the event, being a little bit of a motorcycle enthusiast myself, but my sinuses prevented me from having a good time this year.

And, honestly, I blame the lawyers. 

Really, the whole situation has given me a new perspective. I've never really been able to pinpoint who caused me to get sick before - usually it's just some nebulous event that starts to develop over time. But actually being able to tell when I (most likely) acquired my illness has made me realize - if you go out somewhere, and you're sick... you're spreading germs! Intellectually, I've always understood this simple concept. But never have I thought... "I'm infecting people!" I've just gone about my business as usual. 

So, in the vein of "do unto others," I've resolved - I'm going to do my best not to be a germ-spreader. I'm not a hypochondriac, nor am I particularly OCD, but there's a lot we all can do to keep from spreading the misery (think about how you feel when you can't breathe through your nose - if you could keep others from feeling that way, would you?? I would!). 

I may be stating the obvious here; I'm sure this is a revelation many people come to long before their late 20's. However, it seems like not everyone reaches this epiphany, given the number of people who, if they have the choice, still come to work sick. So, should people struggle through it at the risk of infecting their co-workers? Or should they take the sick time and come back when they are no longer covered in virus-y grossness?