To flush or not to flush? A major job search question

Ever been on the phone and heard a toilet flushing on the other person's end? What if you were trying to set up an interview to hire that person?

While I was in the stall of a public washroom recently, a person entered the washroom who was carrying on a telephone conversation on her cell phone. Dressed in a black suit and appearing very professional, it quickly became evident from the conversation I was unable to avoid overhearing that she was talking to a prospective employer and setting up an interview date.

Initially, I was a bit bemused--after all, as a career counsellor, I don't tend to recommend that job seekers conduct any conversations with prospective employers in a washroom. Until recently, the reasons for this advice seemed kind of obvious to me...

"Hi employer, nice to hear from you....Oh, you hear a toilet flushing? I'm just in the washroom because y'know...I'm a multi-tasker!

or

"I'm in the washroom because it was a mascara emergency!"

or

"I'm in the washroom because there was nowhere else to talk..."

Really? Not outdoors? Or under a tree? Or down a quiet hallway or stairwell? Or in an empty elevator? Or asking someone if there is a quiet place you can step into? Or beside a busy highway? (Because, seriously, wouldn't you rather be caught out for talking by the side of a busy freeway with trucks roaring by at high speed, than for being in the place where people go #1 and 2?)

There was nowhere else? Um...bad decision.

My reaction turned from amusement to chagrin as I realized my predicament. There I was, effectively trapped in my stall, trying to decide...to flush or not to flush? As I debated, I wondered to myself: how did this stranger's career fate become my responsibility?

It seemed that she looked at me with annoyance after I flushed and came out of the stall to wash my hands yet the woman chose to stay in the washroom to carry on her conversation, so I was faced with another predicament. After washing my hands, the only visible option for drying them was to use a very loud, wall-mounted hand dryer positioned right next to where this person was making the interview arrangements!

I wash thoroughly with soap and water so my hands were really wet--this wasn't simply a case of damp fingertips that I could wipe on my pants--and I had to go directly out to meet (and shake hands with) someone after exiting the washroom.

So, I dilly-dallied. I sighed inwardly at my image in the mirror. I shook my wet hands repeatedly in the sink. I found 2 new wrinkles. I considered whether I should head to the salon for a new style. I counted tiles on the floor.

Still, the conversation continued. What subway stop should she get off at to get to the company? Would she get reimbursed for the travel expenses to the interview?

I finally resorted to retreating back to the stalls and using tissue-paper thin, industrial toilet paper to try to mop up the water from my dripping hands. Squeezing by the woman on the phone as I existed the washroom, I resisted the urge to push the start button on the hand dryer.

But I have to confess, I lay awake last night fantasizing about it.

New year, new career?

Whoah, here she comes. Watch out boys she'll chew you up. Whoah, here she comes...she's a...

Um..well, okay, maybe making new year's resolutions isn't that scary, but the approach of Dick Clark's party in Times Square still makes some feel the pressure of new beginnings and the need to start the new year, as Anne Shirley said, "fresh with no mistakes in it". We somehow feel compelled to make rash promises to ourselves.

This year, we'll run for an hour a day on the treadmill looking unbelievably fab in expensive yoga pants that "do something great to our butts".

This year, we'll get up early and read the classics (except for Hemingway, yeech).

This year, we'll get our dream job and tell off nasty Nellie in accounting as we ride off into the sunset with the sweetness of escape and the last piece of cheesecake from the lunch room in our bellies.

Oh yeah, and we'll achieve world peace and the body of Jenifer Garner while we're at it.

I don't want to downplay the efforts of people who make new year's resolutions. It's just that I've learned that what we mostly do at this time of year is set ourselves up for failure (I am finally resigned to the fact that I am never going to like Hemingway) because we set the goals too big.

My last post was about Santa encouraging you to dream big. And yes, you can probably accuse me of being a little "holy boomerang batman" but I'm really not going back on what I said before. Dreaming big is part of the journey. But the old adage says, "how do you eat an elephant?" The answer: "one bite at a time" applies to more than just this slightly nauseating analogy. It really applies to new year's resolutions and career resolutions. The shortest distance between two career points is often not successfully achieved by leaping. It is usually achieved by planning and baby steps, side steps, stretching and working towards something steadily, unceasingly, in the manner of Ripley going after that pesky alien.

Dull, you say? Ahem...how can you call Ripley dull? Okay, so your career goal is not an alien whose butt you can kick. But the same steady, unceasing focus and sticktoitiveness works! Try working backwards from your big goal and chunking it into monthly--or even yearly--smaller goals. If you've been unhappy with your current situation for a while, what's a bit of extra time? Wouldn't you rather take a bit longer to get there and actually get there, than sprint and trip and fall or give up?

Think: s-t-r-e-t-c-h vs sprint, timbit vs doughnut...um, yeah.

Happy New Year! And happy new, maybe-not-immediately-but-coming-soon-to-a-theatre-new-you, career too.

Is a new career on your holiday wish list?

If you enjoy your career, the holiday season is a great time to be grateful and to give thanks. After all, 'tis the season to be involved in all things festive but if you're not feeling terribly festive about your career, you might want to add it to your holiday wish list.

In between sipping sparkly drinks, wearing sparkly clothing and writing sparkly cards, take a few moments to stand under the proverbial mistletoe and think about the career you'd like to be snuggling up to.

Remember when you were little and flipping through the Holiday Wish Book catalogue? It was a fantasy land of possibility. The groovy thing about this time of year is that Santa doesn't ask children to dream practically or reasonably, Santa encourages children to dream BIG. There's really no other time of year when we're allowed to go all out and ask for our wildest dreams. It doesn't mean we'll always get exactly what we asked for (case in point: the curly-haired doll when I really wanted a go-cart) but the simple act of dreaming is something to be treasured at this time of year. Allow yourself to stretch your imagination and dream what seems like the impossible.

Who needs another pair of socks or bottle of perfume? Dreaming about your dream career can help set in motion the motivation you need to believe that it is possible and to start to pursue it. Just like in the movie, "A Miracle on 34th Street", Santa works in mysterious ways if you just believe...

Happy Holidays!

Sisters Are Doin' It For Themselves

My book draws the analogy that the process of finding a great job is a lot like the process of finding a great romance. I wrote it that way because I wanted it to be an approachable career book and also because I noticed that my friends and I spent quite a bit of time analyzing and talking about two things: our romantic relationships and our careers. The quest to find happiness often exists in both areas of our lives.

But we are diverse, us women. Some of us don't believe that romance is the way to happiness and even if we do, we're certainly not going to sit around waiting for it to find us--in life or our career.

This weekend, I'm exhibiting at Kingston's First Women's Show, a show that highlights women in business for themselves. I'm really looking forward to meeting these women, all of whom are in various stages of creating a career for themselves by starting their own business.

Entrepreneurship is a road often travelled by women. From Cora's Breakfasts to Loonie Spoons to Sleep Country, women are turning ideas into action all across Canada...and the world.

Who needs to wait for career romance to blossom? Sometimes, happily, we don't. As the Eurythmics sing, "Sisters are doin' it for themselves."

Is Career Happiness a Right?

This might seem like a crazy question to ask when I have written a book all about finding your dream job.

If you believe that when you're 24 or even 29 that you deserve a dream job (especially if you did all the so-called "right" things), you're probably feeling a bit disillusioned. You might be angry or mystified about why your dream job is not happening NOW please and thank you. You're working hard, so what gives??


In my book, I use the analogy that finding a dream career is a lot like the process of finding a dream relationship. So perhaps you have anticipated my question: did you find true love with your first date or your second or your third? Likely--and probably thankfully in most cases--not.


Just like in romance, most of us have to date some jobs with bad taste in music and tacky cars and annoying habits before we find one we want to spend some serious time with. But I would encourage you to stop thinking of this career "dating" that you're doing as a "waste of time" or not a "real" career (even if your parents keep asking you what you're doing with your life -- after all they weren't so keen on all those first dates you brought home at first either, but they were shaping up to be "real" romances weren't they?)


You may be unhappy sometimes. A late 20s friend of mine tells the disillusioned new grads she knows, "Oh, you're unhappy at work? This is just the workplace 'crushing your spirit'." She feels it is a natural part of the evolution into work. But is it? Or is it a result of our new expectations that if we do X or Y, we all deserve to do great work pretty quickly out of the gate?


May I be so bold as to ask: what have you done to deserve "more than this?" What can you actually DO that is of value to an employer? Finding great work is not all about what you want and deserve and the potentially frustrating part is this...sometimes getting something of value to offer takes time. There's just no getting around it. Just like in romance, you might be smiling your face off, wearing kicky new boots, holding your diploma high, sending out great vibes, full of the latest scintillating conversation tidbits and positioning yourself in the produce aisle in case a single person happens to saunter by and working harder at it than anyone else around...and it still might not get you what you want.


We're an impatient lot nowadays. We want our stuff, our happiness, our perfect life NOW. But just like finding a great relationship, finding a great career takes patience, lots of positive action on your part (and a little serendipity) and sometimes facing the fact that there will indeed be some jobs you will wish you hadn't slept with on the first date. But don't write them off. They can be key ingredients in your very own path to a great career.


All those bad dates and not-so-sexy jobs? They help you weed out the riff-raff and gain experience. They help you know yourself better and help you narrow down what you are really looking for (or not looking for). Most of us don't start out knowing. And even if we do, what we know and want at 24 has likely changed substantially by 34 and likely changed substantially again by 45 and likely changed again by...well, you get the idea. We are evolving constantly and so too, our career aspirations. Those so-called "bad date" jobs are actually really helpful to you.


Be clear about what you're looking for 'cos no one else will figure it out for you (cue the unwieldy hair cut you let your hairstylist talk you into). Take charge of your career by doing your part. Keep dating and put up with a bit of waiting. Value ALL your work (even if it's not your favourite) because it is all truly working for you.

The truth is, there may always be some bad dates in your career. As you evolve and compromise around your life events, you may need to give yourself a pep talk, not just in your 20s but in your 30s and 40s and 50s. Perfect work may not exist for everyone. Perfect for you at this time is a much more attainable and satisfying goal.


Finding a dream career is usually a process, not a destination that you can get to on an express train. And just like trains and dream relationships, dream careers tend to arrive faster when you stop obsessing about why they aren't here yet. Instead, take action on the things you can control -- have a party on the platform, count the number of subway tiles on the walls, pick up the local lingo, offer bystanders your skills and smile but be prepared to also embrace a little waiting.

You'll be ready when your train comes in.

The leaves are gone

After a very blustery day on Saturday indeed, the rainbow of fall colours has landed in our forlorn-looking winterized swimming pool and the trees are creaky and bare, shivering in the cool November wind. Sort of like me.

I have that not-yet-settled-into-the-cold-season, odd Ontario November wardrobe that consists of jacket (on second thought, too light for today's brisk wind out of the north) and scarf (how could I have forgotten that this one makes me so itchy?) and shoes (I am NOT wearing boots before December if I can help it!) that are inadequate for the odd patch of mud I've encountered on my travels around town.

Daylight savings ended on the weekend and on the dot of 6:03 pm, my body is now telling me it's time for bed. "To bed with you!" my body cries. "It's dark," it whines in an obnoxious and somehow pathetically yearning way at 6:14 pm. "Why are you ignoring me?" my body cries at 6:27 pm. "To bed! What's so difficult to understand?" And still I somehow resist. Barely.

I'm possessed with a hibernation instinct not normally attributed to humans, I think. But I can't indulge the "pathological need for sleep" that the sleep doctor declared me with. He was amused that I slept for 13 hours in his lab. A world record almost and in summer, the season of light no less! So excuse me body but I have a career that requires that I set an alarm every night. A career that is currently composed of several jobs. And not quiet, unprovocative jobs but loud, rather demanding jobs. Promotions to get on with. Websites to re-structure. Clients to counsel. Blogs to write. Books to develop from ideas into words.

But, but, but...I'd rather sleep for 12 or 13 hours a day. What could be better than yummy, delicious, cozy micro-fibre sheets wrapped around me sleep? No, I don't have time for that whole grown-up career thing at this time of year.

And on top of all that, the lighting in the bathroom at work has begun to betray me again. It's an annual event - a shift in the space-time continuum that somehow results in fluorescent bathroom lighting illuminating a pasty pallor and frizzy hair that cannot possibly belong to moi. I, career woman/rip van writer girl, feel the almighty urge to runs screaming from the terror and travel down that intimidating yet somehow enticing aisle at the drug store that contains the cream for "mature women's skin" and "anti-everything serum".

Good thing I'm having a great time with my career. When I'm awake.

ZZzzzzzzzzz. Let me know when it's Spring.

Would you like a side of IV antibiotics with that career?

The past ten days, I've been dealing with a relatively minor but annoying illness that has required me to spend hours every day at the hospital receiving IV antibiotics. Some days it's eaten up five or six or seven hours. Other days a blessed two.

Between waiting rooms, hanging around for test results and getting medication, needless to say, I've spent a lot of hours waiting this week...and not always patiently. As I spent my hours people-watching, eavesdropping on amusing conversations, keeping fellow patients company, snuggling into my husband's shoulder or occasionally managing to read a few lines from a book, it got me thinking about what we do with the times when no matter how pro-active and resourceful we are, we simply aren't in control of what's happening in our lives and in our careers.

Even though I wasn't desperately ill in relative terms, I had waves of feeling quite sorry for myself. I didn't want to be sitting there in the hospital for hours at at time. I had things to do, people to see, places to go. There was no internet, no phone service, no "business as usual". I carried my writing pad and my dictaphone but I couldn't seem to make use of them. I was forced to pause. Against my will. And while I was pausing, the beds were uncomfortable! (Apparently, I am the proverbial Princess and the Pea in a hospital bed.)

Sometimes, no matter how hard we are working on our dreams, taking baby steps, being brave, staying positive, contributing...we get sidelined for a while. And when that happens, it sure can feel frustrating. We might not like where we are. We might feel frustrated or deflated or unmotivated. We might even start to think, "Will I ever make it out of here?"

I think that in every life and career, a little forced hospitalization to get IV antibiotics for ten days must fall. Erm...yeah. It's not always a smooth ride to "the top" (whatever your "top" happens to be). Along the way, we may feel stalled in the career trajectory we had been expecting. We may even think, "Why me? I work hard. I don't deserve the bad hand I've been dealt."

Don't lose heart. Instead, try to enjoy the pitstop. People watch. Eavesdrop on amusing conversations. Keep fellow travellers company. Snuggle into a loved-one's shoulder. You might just find yourself experiencing something new and interesting or feeling grateful for things you had previously taken for granted.

And if you allow yourself a moment or two to indulge in pouting to yourself about the bad mattress on the hospital bed, I understand and I promise: I won't tell anyone. This too is what career is sometimes about.

Hang in there.