Please don’t blame me for the Patriots loss

Do you believe that where you sit matters? How about what you wear? Do you sit in the same pew in church? What section do you prefer in the movie theater? How about where you sit at the table for dinner? And very important, how about when you watch a Patriots game? Do you have a lucky shirt or pair of socks.

My husband and I are very close friends with a really fun couple who also happen to be superstitious. Lots of people are superstitious, especially athletes.

  • Michael Jordan used to wear his University of North Carolina shorts under his uniform in every game. In order to cover his lucky shorts, he began wearing longer shorts, which inspired the trend in the NBA!
  • Dallas Maverick guard, Jason Terry would eat chicken before games, wear five pairs of socks, and the night before every game, he would wear a pair of the opposing team’s shorts to bed.
  • And then there was our own Wade Boggs, dubbed Chicken Man by Jim Rice. He always ate chicken before each game, always took batting practice at 5:17, ran his sprints at 7:17, and would draw the word “Chai” (Hebrew for “life”) in the dirt before coming up to bat. Yowsa! I only knew about the chicken!

When we invited our friends over to watch a Patriots game, they were very reluctant. The excuse was – “We need to sit in the same spots in our living room – Bobby always sits in his chair and I (Jen) always sit on the floor in front of the recliner. I wear the same sweatpants and Patriots shirt.” My husband and I really wanted to watch the game with them, so we put on the full “kitchen” press, and were able to lure them with our menu of homemade chili, pizza, Buffalo wings, and lots of other goodies.

I sometimes forget that you need to be careful what you wish for. I wasn’t at all worried about whether they would prefer thin crust or thick, or how spicy they like their wings and chili. As I was going through my shopping list, it hit me – what if we lose the game? They will never, ever watch a Patriots game with us again.

So Sunday was upon us and our friends arrived. Jen asked, “Is it okay if I sit here?” She sat on the floor, in front of our chair and ottoman which are approximately where she would be sitting at home. Her husband sat on one of the sofas, and watched the game at the same angle and proximity that he would have been at home in his comfy chair. Jen and I wore our lucky Patriots shirts.

I couldn’t relax. It was one of those extremely painful games to watch. You know the type I am referring to. Denver got to Brady 22 times and we couldn’t seem to pull ahead. I am pretty sure this is the last time they’ll watch a game with us, but at this point, I am okay with it.

And a final word about superstitious professional athletes – no matter what they do for luck, you can bet that they have trained, studied, and are prepared for each game. Doing your homework and coming to the table prepared is the single most important thing we can do as project managers when meeting with executives.

Do you know anyone who is superstitious? I will say that in the business setting, it can matter where you sit at the conference room table and what you wear, but not for the same reason. You typically let your executive sponsor sit at the head of the conference table, right? I surely hope so. I suppose no one but you will know if you are wearing your lucky Wonder Woman undershirt –no harm done.

Wonder Woman

 

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2015 Review: The Year of Clicking on Stuff

Anyone that publishes anything seems to be offering up their 2015 Year in Review material these days. At first I was a bit put off by the exponential growth of such clickbait this year. But then I remembered that here in the PMO we actually get paid per blog post hits (little known fact). So I decided if you can’t beat them, join them.

I thought the most efficient (read: laziest) way to compile my review was to methodically scour my Outlook calendar for the past 12 months and see what stood out. Eventually a key plotline appeared in the chronology. There seemed to be a lot of clicking on things. In places where my Calendar did not reveal what I was clicking on or why, I looked at my Sent folder to fill in some of the gaps in the storyline. Here’s how it breaks down:

January 2015

Lots of Epic activity this month. I proctored a total of 8 exams for 5 different DFCI staff members trying to earn their Epic certifications. These were online exams where I click the Exam Enable button, then the exam takers answer 50 or so Epic questions by clicking in their exam. When they finish, they clicked the Submit Exam button. They get their exam score back from Epic via email within 2 minutes. Most pass, but when someone fails it’s a sad moment. All that clicking for nothing.

In the middle of January, my wife and I went to Turks and Caicos for a week. When we returned it immediately began snowing and would not stop for 9 weeks.

February 2015

Snowpocalypse dominated this month. Almost every activity that occurred in February started with looking at weather.com. Click ahead to see if I can safely drive to work today. Click ahead 5 days from now and see if it will maybe stop snowing by then. Click ahead to the next 8 hours to see if I can drive home safely from work. I’m a hearty New Englander and all, but maybe I should just sleep in my cube tonight.

March 2015

This month saw some of the most dangerous clicking of my career. I did some one-on-one coaching with an unnamed someone on advanced PowerPoint skills. She had improvised a standing desk setup in her office where her monitor and keyboard were propped up precariously on stacks of 8-12 textbooks. The mouse cord wove between this setup like a snake poised to strike. One wrong motion would bring the thing toppling down. Each click was nerve-wracking.

April 2015

I was drafted into the Epic training army this month to create tip sheets. The goal was to produce click-by-click reference guides. Knowing what to click and in what order is more or less the goal of all software training. I’m good at this. But by the month’s end I was relieved of this duty for mysterious reasons.

May 2015

On May 2nd, my Outlook Calendar shows this appointment: “ZY $20 2-18”. May 2nd is the first Saturday in May which is always Kentucky Derby day. My former next door neighbor emailed me to place his Derby bets. He knows I trek to Suffolk Downs every Derby Day to bet remotely on the race. It is weird that he emailed me at work, not even my wife has my work email. But then he works in Big Pharma, so I guess I should not be too surprised at his reach. We would both lose our bets that day when the stupid 10 horse Firing Line blew up both of our exactas. Otherwise, nothing else of note happened in May.

June 2015

Most of June was spent clicking back and forth between myTalent and HealthStream. No data migration was done in moving from one system to the next. So I labored to simulate a data conversion by hand. Extract from myTalent, save, upload to HealthStream, rinse, repeat.

July 2015

July was pretty boring. I did have a nice moment where I validated a hunch that a recurring error we were seeing in an online course was in fact user error. Click wisely users, click wisely.

August 2015

This month saw the last big push in moving to HealthStream. There is always a ton of clicking when learning a new system. Sometimes you click the right thing. Most times you click the wrong thing. Sometimes you just end up clicking on nothing at all. Once I got really crazed and clicked in a random text field maybe 100 times hoping to break HealthStream wide open like a piñata and spray candy everywhere. But sadly that never happened.

September 2015

In prepping for the return of Project University after the Epic hiatus, I spent much of September building our class schedule in HealthStream. For the greater good of the program, a tenuous peace was reached between me and the system. I resolved to click in it in a professional, constructive manner and not treat it like a piñata.

October 2015

The fall session of Project University is in full swing. I bungled the Waiting List for the first few classes by processing attendance and last minute withdrawals in the wrong order. I did not click wisely. The good news is that I taught my course on Presenting and Public Speaking for the first time. It went well and the content involves almost no clicking at all.

November 2015

My last post documented my misadventures with the Buttonmaker. In November, after fixing the Buttonmaker, I finally had several fruitful sessions of button-making. It occurred to me that making buttons with this machine is a form of clicking. With software when you click on stuff, more often than not, you are clicking a “button”. Cranking out buttons with the Buttonmaker is just analog clicking.

December 2015

My contractor status ends and I officially join the PMO as a fulltime Partners employee. After attending orientation at Partners HQ, you are presented with all kinds of online forms to fill out. But all that clicking was worth it. It is a great feeling to be asked to stay on permanently and I am incredibly grateful to Deb and my colleagues in the PMO for their faith in me. I look forward to many great years of clicking on stuff at Dana-Farber.

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Dear Santa

I don’t have children and it’s been more than a few years since I wrote a Christmas letter to Santa, but I thought it was as good a time as any to (e)mail my wish list to the big man in red.

Dear Santa,
I’ve tried to be good this year. Although it’s not always easy. But compared to the year I turned eight, I’ve been very good. So here’s my list. I would like:

  • A traffic-free Boston, allowing for a seamless commute. Both ways, please!
  • 25 hours in a day. I’ll settle for two days a week. Could you make them Saturday and Sunday if possible?
  • No more bad hair days
  • Conference rooms available whenever I need them
  • Zero-calorie chocolate
  • A guarantee that my flu shot will do its job
  • Spam-free, virus-free email
  • No repeat of last winter’s snowfall
  • A hiatus on all sales phone calls
  • No line at lunch today in the cafeteria
  • A parking spot in the front row at the mall
  • A shuttle waiting for me whenever I need one
  • Outlook to never say “Not Responding” again
  • A record-breaking number of Likes on my next Facebook post, no matter what it is
  • A clutter-free desk
  • Perfect syncing of my iPhone calendar and my Outlook calendar
  • 15% annual rate of return on my 403(b)
  • An EPIC New Year
  • A crisis-free week on my next On Call rotation
  • Hundreds of hits on our blog
  • Continued miracles at Dana-Farber with the help of unbelievable doctors

I’m hoping the Magic of Christmas can deliver some of these. I can leave some cookies and milk out, if that helps.

What’s on your list?

Posted in Motivation, Work Life Balance | 4 Comments

First-Time Family Caregiver and Other Admissions at Thanksgiving

There’s never a wrong time to pause and ponder that for which we’re grateful. Spiritual rituality, meditative moments, significant life events, near-misses, good news, bad news. And, of course, the November day of Thanksgiving.

I LOVE the Thanksgiving Holiday. I don’t cook but the aroma of sautéing butter, onion, celery, spice beckons early morning, as strongly as freshly pressed French Roast. Yes, I do spend equal time in the kitchen with the cook each third Thursday of each November. Someone has to taste-test the stuffing as torn dried bread cubes are blended with the sauté, stuff the bird and sew it shut, foil-tip the wings, infuse the mashed potatoes with just enough nutmeg, and evenly slice the cranberry, no? I’m not the master chef but I revel in the small scrumptious details.

I have loved Thanksgiving since I was 22. At 21 I randomly (clinician readers, sorry for the layman’s understanding of my diagnosis and procedure, I was just barely an adult at that point!) ruptured an abdominal artery on Thanksgiving and was on the mend after life-saving surgery, ICU, and a couple months of home recuperation. We could have made PB&J each next Thanksgiving and I still would have thought it the best one ever; I’m super-grateful to be at each and every one.

This year has been no different, at least as far as that goes. New wrinkles, though.

My step-father Warren, a die-hard New Jersey-residing Giants fan, is sick with progressive conditions that have begun to make themselves known in life-altering ways. Gratefully, the day before Turkey Day he was discharged from MGH and Spaulding to my home here where the Pilgrims started it all. VNA is lined up, he’ll be here getting his legs under him for a few weeks before returning to Giants Country. Life is good, but I have a new job role. Caregiver.

It’s been a few days and my L-tryptophan levels are up, the turkey left-overs have been tasty. I’m not sleepy from that amino acid boost, though.  I’m exhausted and completely stressed out. It’s only been a few days in this role…

In the midst of it all, as I type this blog late Sunday morning I am interrupted by a phone call. From Eagles Country, not far from Giants Country but my old Jersey home just the same. My vivacious friend, a 40-something woman who’s unique spirit and zesty sauciness leave their mark on all she meets, has left us after an odds-defying and hard-fought 12 year slugfest with metastatic breast cancer. I am so happy that Fernie is finally at peace, and just so sad. Like red Zinfandel and turkey, this added grief pairs well with the new caregiver emotions.

Being a family caregiver is hard, and I’m sure this blog’s readers are the last people to whom I need to tell this. All across Dana-Farber are clinical caregivers, survivors, current and former family caregivers, witnesses to the same. I’m just one in a succession of many, and certainly more to come.

I’m a project manager and like to think I can equally, in both my home and work lives, be flexible, adjust, be supportive, emotionally tough, and calm right with the rest of ‘em. But there’s something about this role that’s a bit daunting, if not pernicious. I think it has fangs. My emotional intelligence quotient is taking a hit.

Though family and therefore more than a guest, adding a new residing member – even if only temporarily or short-term – changes the entire dynamic of the household. Living spaces get recycled, spare bedrooms become convalescing spots cluttered with medical equipment and assistive devices. Meal time changes, so many old ways go out the door. Old ways you didn’t know you observe. Usually, this shift is not something planned for. Things happen, and we families respond. We respond with ample doses of love and empathy, anxious to help our family member back onto his or her feet.

I think and hope we’re doing a pretty good job so far. What I‘ve noticed though, is my day now starts, continues, and then ends as a primary caregiver and I tend to ignore my basic needs. Regular meals, personal care, exercise, down-time, they come last if at all. Usually fastidious, I’m not even taking my vitamins and prescriptions on the proper schedule. This is while I check to ensure my Dad has attempted, and received supportive assistance, to try and adhere to his. I’m obviously a hypocrite and also achieving poor self-care, allowing myself to get absolutely unsorted in the process.

It sneaks up. You don’t realize for a day or two into the new caregiver role that the time to get ready in the morning doubles, if not worse. I’m now getting both of us ready when the home health aide is not scheduled, and we haven’t yet come up with a good and efficient process that is satisfactory to us both. Getting ready for bed has the same issues and no scheduled agency aide to help. It takes a long time and more often than not, we’re on different pages. Even if I’m tired and need to retire for the night, I have many steps and much time needed to get him all tucked in, comfortable, and asleep.

Today I had to find a way to cope or I was going to wind up squarely entrenched in a red zone of emotions. After 5 hours using the rake, blower, and a transport tarp, I have no leaves left. Not one. I burned off a lot of the stress-induced energy and got to think about great times with Fern and the gang back in NJ, alone and worrying about little else than moving leaves. A good, if temporary, respite. I’m sure Warren enjoyed the solitude, too.

Once back in from the yard, I searched for caregiver resource sites on the internet and confirmed the advice I was hoping exists. If a caregiver is going to make it through in one piece and be the best caregiver he or she wants to be, self-preservation is mandatory. Adequate sleep, self-care, respite, nutrition, have a sounding board, summon help and support, try to laugh, and blow off steam. Some of these tips are easier than others, but I know I’ve got to try and do them each day. I owe it to me, and to my Dad. I think these tools will help also to process feelings around Fern’s passing. God speed to Fern, and speedy recovery, Dad!

warren dance warren and me fern dance

The Liberty Hotel, Boston, 2010

Posted in Accomplishments, Knowledge Areas, Learning, Time Management, Uncategorized, Work Life Balance | Comments Off on First-Time Family Caregiver and Other Admissions at Thanksgiving

I Hate Change

changeI Hate Change

Every weekday morning for as long as I can remember, I’ve gotten up in the morning, made coffee, toasted a bagel, put peanut butter and jelly on it, and placed it in a plastic container so I can eat breakfast while driving to the office.  Some of the variables have changed over the years (e.g., the peanut butter is now reduced fat, the jelly is now fruit-only spread, and the coffee is now cold-brewed, low acid decaf), but the overall scope of the “Weekday Breakfast Project” hasn’t changed.

Then I embark on the “Commuting Project”. While driving my car to work, I listen to books on tape. I don’t have to speak to or even smile at anyone, but I can laugh out loud at the funny parts without eliciting strange looks. I tried public transportation at one point, but like I said, I hate change (not to mention having my wallet stolen while waiting for a train; watching the subway door shut on my bag and speed away to Riverside Station without me; and witnessing a woman with a stroller push her way through a crowd of passengers during rush hour because the driver refused to open the back door for her).

I’m the same way once I get to work. As a project manager, defining project scope is paramount. To prevent going over our budget or schedule parameters, I want to be sure the team is doing only the work required and nothing more. But project management isn’t like breakfast. Someone will inevitably want to add something, and my natural impulse is to resist. People like me need a really good change control process.

So one of the first things I do when starting a project is to establish a change control process. The PMO provides a template for that. Templates are a wonderful way to keep things consistent on a project. The change control document specifies who can submit change requests, how they should do it, who has the authority to approve change requests, and how we will handle urgent requests.

This not only protects the project from “scope creep” (a compilation of scope changes that continue to inflate the budget and stretch out the timeline); it also protects the project stakeholders against my inclination to resist change at any cost.

I even keep a log of all the change requests made during the life of the project, just in case someone asks why the project ran late, went over budget, or just looks different than it did when it started. A good project manager doesn’t resist change but anticipates it and plans for how s/he will handle it when it does happen. Change control helps me to be a better project manager.

That doesn’t mean you’ll be seeing me on the train any time soon.

 

Posted in Knowledge Areas, Planning | 2 Comments

Brain Power vs. Tools

Life is busy. We all juggle work and families while attempting to have a social life. As we approach the holiday season, the pace picks up. It seems like every day there are new things to do, websites to read, recipes to make, songs to learn, appointments to schedule, and parties to attend. The challenge is how to keep track of everything without taxing our brains.

Establishing good habits with the right tools, you will begin to rely less on your brain and more on the system that you’ve created. I’ve talked about establishing habits in previous blog posts. Picking out outfits and making lunch the night before definitely help. But, I also need a tool to help me to remember to bring the lunch I’ve made. I’ve too often left the house, lunch sitting on the kitchen counter. My brain failed me!

Countless tools are available to help us keep track of all of the moving pieces of our lives. It is a very personal choice, so there is no right answer. I’ll share what I use to keep track of my schedule and the habits I’ve established within the system I use.

For me, things usually start in my notebook. I have a small paper notebook that I take to meetings and carry in my bag. Once I get to a computer, I key them in. The tools I use need to have a mobile app as well as web app. That way, I can access my data regardless of what medium I’m using (PC, iPad, smartphone).

My to-do list starts in my notebook then gets entered into an application called Toodledo. Toodledo has free and paid versions of its application, web access, and phone app. No matter how you access it, it syncs across all of the platforms so your data is always up to date.  The free version allows you to add tasks and recurrences, prioritize them, get alerts, and tag and organize them. The paid version allows you to share to-do lists with other Toodledo users. My husband and I have used a shared to do list (the honey-do list) to help prioritize and track household tasks. The application also allows you to create your own lists and schedules if you have small projects that you need to track outside of your to-do list.

I use Evernote to store just about everything else. Evernote keeps my notes, web clippings, recipes, documents, things I don’t want to forget, just about everything. It’s easy to search, and the search includes text inside the documents and web clippings that you attach. My notes are available on my web and mobile devices, and they are synced across all of the platforms.

At home, we use Google Calendar, to display the various calendar entries. It is convenient to have them display together. When planning to host or attend a party or schedule a vacation, it’s helpful to see when my husband is available as well. Google Calendar lets you share your calendar to other Google users. The calendar then appears in your own calendar view on either the web or mobile app. I still use two different calendar apps, though, since we don’t use Google at work.

To make this system work, I’ve found that I need to make a note immediately. I can’t rely on remembering to enter it. I either write it down or use the web app. I have also found that I need to consistently use my tools. The tools don’t work if you don’t use them. By no means is this system fool-proof, but it does help organize my life to where it feels more manageable. What does your system look like? Do you use some of the same tools or do you rely only on your brain?!?

Posted in Learning, Motivation, Planning, Productivity | 1 Comment

I Broke the Buttonmaker

A Low-Tech Photo-Essay Fever Dream

I broke the buttonmaker. This statement is not poetry or metaphor. “The buttonmaker” is not slang that the kids say these days. The buttonmaker is a real, literal thing. And I literally broke it.

The buttonmaker is not a system, an application, or a new type of server. It is not a dashboard or reporting tool in Epic. The buttonmaker is not a curve-jumping, paradigm-shifting, SQL-based, performance-optimized way to buy dog food on the cloud.

The buttonmaker is a machine. It makes buttons. It is an old school low-tech device that creates buttons. The kind of buttons you have to wear at a conference, or if you work at Applebee’s. But then I broke it, and it no longer made buttons.

bmkr1The buttonmaker is an imposing entity. It has heft. Its weight is awkwardly distributed. And yet it is a precisely engineered machine. It demands respect and prompts more than a little fear. As you can see here, it is made of cast iron, stainless steel, and probably three other obscure materials known only to professional European metallurgists. Its cold surfaces gleam with futuristic light. It’s easy to get lulled into a false sense that the buttonmaker is impervious to all. And yet it was randomly broken by the normal workings of one dumb man.

When it first arrived at the PMO a few weeks ago, I read the buttonmaker’s reference guide with all due seriousness. The manufacturer’s website also includes a video demonstrating its correct use. I watched that video roughly 7 billion times, give or take. Once you get all the button components prepped, it’s actually a pretty simple process to make a button. There are no variables to the process. The top half of the button with your graphic gets sandwiched between a transparent mylar cover and a tin backing piece. That all goes into the left cylinder. bmkr3You crank the black handle making an industrial CA-CHUNK noise that you feel as well as hear. Then a backing piece with the pin (that lets you pin the button to your Applebee’s uniform) is set in the right cylinder, which then slides over to the left, under the handle, and its crank, CA-CHUNK again. The button is made. You are now a successful buttonmaker and you update your LinkedIn profile accordingly.

It all played out this way for my first two or three button-making sessions. One time I accidentally put two mylar sheaths in the 1st cylinder sandwich, which is easy to do because they are microscopically thin. The buttonmaker did not like that, and it let me know. The crank handle sputtered and stalled ¾ of the way down. Expressing its disapproval, it spat out the offending proto-button upon retracting the handle. “Lesson learned” as we say in the project management business.

But this past Monday, disaster stuck. I was five buttons into what I imagined was my shift at the button-making factory. Button #6 seemed fine initially. The 2nd CA-CHUNK of the handle was normal. However, no button subsequently emerged in the right cylinder. Upon inspection, I saw a twisted half-button dangling under the crank handle mechanism. Tugging at it gently, I found that it held firm. A second more vigorous attempt split the mylar awkwardly.

This was a moment of crisis. The manufacturers of the buttonmaker provide a trouble-shooting tip sheet, but it did not cover this scenario. I upended the buttonmaker to get a better look. The gangly abomination I had created rattled noisily. It was wedged in there good. The obvious temptation (which is usually never a good idea) is to yank that sucker out of there with brute force. Which I did. You can see what emerged:

button fail There was still ragged mylar sheathing up in the buttonmaker’s undercarriage. At this point in the story, I should mention the many stark warnings issued by the manufacturer about “tampering with the buttonmaker”. Don’t do it, man. Just don’t.  tampering_0211

It was time to concede I had reached the limits of my ability to manage this crisis (lesson learned: quitters sometimes win). Looking at their website, I learned the manufacturer was based not in Zurich as I had fever-dreamt, but in Iowa. A good sign. I had escaped the judgment of Swiss engineers, which I feared mightily. No, instead I got Brian the Iowan (I swear I’m not making this up) from the buttonmaker’s help desk. Our chat went like this:

Brian: First you’re going need to get out your Allen wrenches.

Me: But I’m at work, I don’t have any Allen wrenches. I work in a cube, like in an office.

Brian: You’re going to need a set of Allen wrenches.

Me: Ok, I have some at home. I’ll bring them in tomorrow. Can I call you…

Brian: No, I’m busy tomorrow. Just write this down and do it when you have Allen wrenches.

Me: But what about the tampering warning. I don’t want to fly solo and do something unsanctioned.

After about 20 seconds where Brian seemed to be silently sizing me up as the biggest goof on earth, he gave me step by step directions on how to fix the buttonmaker. I wrote them down, while thinking I’d rather be talking with the Swiss.

The next day, with my Allen wrenches, I embarked on my Tolkien-esque journey to fix the buttonmaker. A depiction of the process is illustrated below:

The author imagines himself repairing the buttonmaker

The author imagines himself repairing the buttonmaker.

 

The author actually repairing the buttonmaker

The author actually repairing the buttonmaker.

And of all things, it worked. I fixed the buttonmaker. In reality, I suppose I did not really break the buttonmaker to begin with. Without warning or cause, I fell victim to the buttonmaker’s vague industrial whims. Occasionally mysterious are the ways of the buttonmaker. As Brian the Iowan explained to me when I asked if I had done something wrong, “these things just happen sometimes.”

fixing the bmkr

 

Posted in Accomplishments, Lessons Learned, Uncategorized | 1 Comment

What type of vacation planner are you?

The instructor asked our class on personality types to divide ourselves into two types of travel planners: 1) Those who are compelled to plan everything in advance including each day’s activities. 2) Those ok with just reserving flights and the first day or two of lodging, and figuring out the rest as they go. The results were funny. Some class members had no trouble picking which group they identify with. Others were hesitant to pick either of two such extremes. But eventually the class divided into the two groups, and then we learned more about each other’s type by sharing traveling philosophies. The detailed planners were aghast that anyone could fly to a vacation spot without at least confirming all lodging ahead of time, and maybe reserve a few more dinners in advance. The spontaneous travelers were horrified that the planners could cage themselves into a rigid daily plan. Most were somewhere in the middle and comfortable with a more balanced approach to planning vacations.

Before that exercise, I had never thought much about what sort of vacation planner I was. But since then I have become more conscious of my approach. I’m definitely more of a planner, but I sometimes show flashes of spontaneity. I do recall a trip to Ireland that involved a smidge more adventurousness. We visited five different locations for two days each. I reserved hotels at four of the spots, but I chose to wing it in northwest Ireland. The reason was that the Fodor’s guide said bed and breakfasts are plentiful in Ireland and it’s dead easy, and even a little cool, to pick one on the fly. We did and it was a delightful experience. But I don’t do something like that often.

In general, I thoroughly research places to stay and things to see and do. I want to find lodging that is not just a place to sleep, but adds to the joy of the travel experience because of its beauty or service or amenities. And I don’t want to miss any of the great sites or activities in the area. I may even reserve a restaurant or two in advance if availability seems limited. But once having reserved the lodging, I’m usually content to wait until we arrive to decide what to do each day. It allows for the extra flexibility of adapting to the mood of the group and incorporating recommendations from the locals.

But I’ve noticed in recent years that even my level of planning can become never-ending if I’m not careful. Researching properties and locales takes longer than it used to because so much more information is available on the web. The routine used to be simpler: buy a Fodor’s travel guide, read the key sections, and then choose hotels and potential activities. Now the research can still include reading a guidebook, but it can easily branch out to scanning a dozen or more web sites to learn facts, see photos, read professional reviews, survey feedback from other travelers, and sometimes even use Google Maps to make sure the hotel with the beautiful photos on their website isn’t actually next to a busy highway. Such is the curse of one who wants to learn everything;  the sources of information are practically limitless.

So I’ve learned to temper my need to know. I’m still willing to do adequate research to find a gem of a place to stay and get a feel for the area, but eventually I’ll stop and trust that we’ll also discover new things when we arrive. Part of the fun will always be learning by exploring.

So that’s what I’ve learned about my type of vacation planning. What type are you?

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Testing the Waters with my Bathroom Renovation Project

As luck would have it, my husband, Steve, injured his back late summer and I was not unhappy . . . What the heck! Did Zaino really say that? What kind of person is she? . . . because the only thing he could not do was play golf. Woo WOO! Absolutely nothing else bothered him. This meant that instead of spending my weekends as a golf widow, I could now a) enjoy his company, and b) get some chores and projects done around the house.

The top project on my list has been the master bathroom renovation. Initially, Steve thought the bathroom was fine and did not need a gut job. I can tell you that its current state is a hodgepodge of shades of beige, white, and almond, it has a large Jacuzzi tub that never quite gets hot enough, an old yellowed exhaust fan that doesn’t work, and a dark, unremarkable shower.

A few years ago, this project was a tough sell. Steve didn’t get onboard until he started watching HGTV with me and got to see what the future state could look like. Watching shows like Buying and Selling, Flip or Flop, and Fixer Upper, he saw the reactions of potential buyers to a range of bathrooms from ugly to mediocre to beautiful. This tipped the scales slightly in my favor because as we approach retirement age, selling is in the not-too-distant future.

What sealed the deal was when I explained that after a tough day of gardening, I’d be able to lower my aching body into a tub of soothing hot water and this would make me very happy – and you know what they say about a happy wife 😉 😉 It’s a win/win.

After reaching agreement to move forward with a complete overhaul, I needed to finalize decisions on every single component from floor to ceiling. For those who know me well, you know that the higher the price tag, the longer time I spend researching, analyzing, comparing, thinking that I’ve made up my mind, and going back to square one. We aren’t just talking a few weekends to decide on a car – I have been known to take more than a year. I have been planning the master bathroom project on and off for the past two years. During this time, I spent many hours window shopping online and visited kitchen and bath stores from Franklin to Natick. I reclined in a half dozen free standing tubs, vacillated between vessel and under-mount sinks, earthy or gray toned tile – there are so many items to make decisions on.

What helped nudge me forward was so very simple. I was given deadlines. My husband warned me, “You need to order the tub so we can see how we are going to position it and where the plumbing will go.” As a project manager, I could relate to this – the tub purchase needs to happen early in the project and is on the critical path.

This project is the first major project for us as a married couple. Someday we hope to design and build a zero-energy home, so this will be a good test for us – a proof of concept of sorts. So far, so good. I was able to get my husband onboard, he helped me overcome my analysis paralysis, and working together, we now have a solid project schedule which is aligned with a procurement plan. Let the project begin!

Future State

Future State

tub

light

Bling!

vanity  shower

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55 Days and WHAT?

IMG_2465 Just getting back from Labor Day and I’m not thinking about how much fun we had cooling off in the pool this summer, grilling up Fenway Franks, and sipping cool cocktails. I’m fixated on one fact… it’s been only HOW MANY DAYS since the last stubborn snow in Boston’s Seaport melted?

55. Surprised? I am. 55? Disbelief drove me to count this by hand, even though there’s (probably) an app for that.  I counted twice.

I’m in flip flops, favorite t-shirt, and Hawaiian board shorts. I’ve just completed a lap, not in the pool but through the backyard shed. Was I looking for the pool brush or a sun-drenched raft to sneak in another spin before the oaks start to shed their acorns and leaves? Nah, just dusting off the snow blower and finding the roof rakes. I see we still have 4 40-lb bags of ice melt and 100 pounds of traction sand, great find!

Why not do all of this now? Today I just washed and dried my favorite iPhone-compatible, touchscreen-sensitive winter gloves. It’s 95 degrees outside and I’m thinking of winter gloves, not Body Glove. What is wrong with me?

I generally like to think ahead. But, isn’t this activity jumping the gun by, oh I don’t know, about 55 days?

My MINI Cooper service advisor even shook his head, a tad perplexed, the day after Labor Day. Did he know it’s only been 55 days? No, of course he did not. You probably didn’t, either. I was in for an appointment. I lifted from the finger-print-smudged glass counter the customer-copy transaction receipt detailing a routine oil change, cabin air filter replacement, tire rotation, and complimentary multi-point safety inspection. As I turned to the exit and we thanked each other, I just could not resist and out of my mouth it came…

Mike, I think my MINI needs snow tires.

After blinking a few times, he was able to stutter and spit out that winter (shudder) stock would be received in late October. If not available in October, then definitely by November’s first week. Yes, in about 55 days. “I just received the pricing sheets today,” he chuckled. It was abundantly clear he did not expect this question on a 95 degree day!

I’m thinking I can chalk this up to (at least) one of 3 things. Good planning skills, acknowledging last year’s lessons learned, or an anxiety level I haven’t felt since Epic TDR testing! Not entirely sure which, I can say I’ve got a good “burning platform” driving this behavior. My motivation: if I’m climbing up on the roof again this Winter at least I will have a rake and not a pool brush (not great substitutes when roof rakes are out of stock!), sliding backward down the sloped driveway into passing traffic because no hardware stores have ice melt. Unprepared last Winter? Definitely! A lot of us were. Am I ready this time? Maybe…have you read the Farmer’s Almanac prediction for 2015/2016?

In the meanwhile, all of this summer snow preparation has made me practically overheat. I think I need a swim (maybe I can order the firewood while afloat?)!

Posted in Lessons Learned, Planning, Uncategorized | 2 Comments