The Chronic Curmudgeon

It still feels weird. Communications people condition quickly in our careers. We know that it's never supposed to be our name that people see. We're the wizards behind the curtain. We create or influence stories behind the scenes, but our executives do the talking and the storylines are what we sell; speechwriters are paid to make someone else sound visionary or brilliant or inspiring. Anonymity is just part of the profession we chose (much to the chagrin of my mother!!) So to all of a sudden see my name,words, and even my photo in some business pages is really like being through the looking glass. (Especially since I figured that if I ever started getting press, it'd be for some creative or artistic endeavor, not business!) And I've learned that it's a hell of a lot easier to sit in an audience as the speechwriter and cringe at every time your speaker mangles one of your lines or delivers your key sound bite awkwardly, than it is to be the one standing in front of a hundred or more people and delivering those lines. There's also a big adjustment that you have to make mentally to being in the spotlight; it's more of an effort to stay humble than you might think. (This is especially a problem if you're like me, and were never really all that humble in the first place!)

I've worked my ass off in the last few years, and I can finally say it paid off. The financial rewards have started to kick in, and my worth in the job market jumped considerably in 2005. I'm proud of that, and I'm looking forward to taking full advantage of it in the years ahead. But what I'm proudest of is simply having made good on a promise to myself. After my personal life became such a mess two years ago, I promised myself that I would spend the next couple of years focusing my energy on my professional side, and trying to turn the negative emotion of a personal stumble into positive fuel for professional achievement. I think I can say I did that; whatever I felt I had to prove to myself, I think I've proven.

But that leads to the challenge for 2006. I've chosen to spend the last two years focused on career; I've done that, but at the expense of the rest of me, including my personal life. (Although I did get to date a 21 year old for several months this year -- and then on and off after that -- and I think that goes down as a banner accomplishment for a 37 year dude in any year! [Insert lascivious grin here.] ) So I have two goals for 2006, both equally important:

1. Take care of my health. Winston Churchill once said that there is nothing more exhilarating that being shot at without result... hopefully I'll be able to one-up him and say that nothing's more exhilarating than coming off rounds of tests and being given a "you're okay" and a second shot at getting it right. No more "I don't have time." Part of the benefit of "arriving" should be being able to make time to do what I need to do. So 2006 is the year I get healthy again. Make time. No excuses. And don't doubt what I can do when I'm focused on it.

2. Adjust my focus to my social life. Spend more time with friends, develop more hobbies, you know. And yeah, probably date more realistically too -- not that I feel like I need to be all coupled up again, but I suppose it'd be smarter to put myself in situations where there's at least a realistic chance to last for a while rather than having things be doomed from the start and just not caring about that. Anyway, whatever I do, I need to be more well-rounded in the next year than I've been for the last couple.

So that's my self-indulgent look back at 2005. Next week, I'll get into some less me-me-me reviews of the year that was; 10 things that rocked, 10 things that sucked, 10 I'll miss the most, that sort of thing. For now, kids, if I don't see you... Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, have a sacred solstice, Happy Kwanzaa, and Happy Festivus (the holiday for the rest of us).