Tag Archives: job

Deep Down I’m Happy, I Just Want More Than This Provincial Life

Belle’s plight to seek out something more than an average life always spoke to me since the first day I saw Beauty and the Beast at the movies in second or third grade. It’s easy to get caught up in my mood swings, especially the ones that swing be down into depression, but everything in my life is pretty darn good. Even if I lose my job (again), things are ok. I’ve managed, in the last 10 years (and getting fired 3 times) to go from $50,000 in net worth to $1.5M in net worth. I’ve had two healthy kids. I bought a house in a very HCOL area and convinced a bank I’m worthy of a $1.2M mortgage. I convinced a man to spend the rest of his life with me in wedded bliss.  I haven’t jumped off a bridge or overdosed on any number of pill combinations despite that occasionally seeming like a practical solution to the impractical problem that is me and all the things I do or don’t do on a daily basis.

Things are pretty damn good, aren’t they?

It’s ok that things are hard. What isn’t ok is that I’m the type of person who will only be satisfied if I’m doing something meaningful in life–beyond raising two happy, healthy kids and buying a house and having a husband. I don’t know exactly what that is yet, but I’m on my way to figuring it out. It’s tough because I don’t deserve to be successful or unique or to do anything great–but then again, who the hell does? Maybe someone born clearly brilliant, with a ridiculously high IQ. But there are plenty of other people doing great things who weren’t born any different than I was. They may have had parents who taught them it’s ok to take risks and fail, who instilled in them a growth mindset, or somehow learned to go against everything they’ve been taught to take risks and believe in themselves–but other than that–how different are we really?

I spent a good chunk of last night, in between breastfeeding and half sleeping, watching YouTube videos about Adult ADHD. If you know me (or heck, if you read my blog likely) it’s pretty clear that if Adult ADHD exists, I have it. Out of leftover FSA money one year I did a neuropsychological screening and was told I do not have ADHD, but do have severe deficiency in short-term memory, anxiety, and depression. However, had I gone to an ADHD expert for said screening (I did not) I would have undoubtedly been told I do have it. The test used by the neuropsychologist to determine if I have ADHD, the click test, is far from considered an acceptable method of diagnosis by the scientific community, and yet for the last few years I’ve been walking around convinced I don’t have ADHD due to this test and my neuropsychological profile. Yet even the finding that my short-term memory is severely impaired is a symptom of ADHD. Alas.

I also feel like I ought to do something creative in life as people with ADHD tend to do better when working in creative settings and that’s what I went to school to study and that’s what I always though I’d do, but then didn’t, because I was too scared to take such a risk when I knew nothing beyond wanting to not be deemed a failure by my parents, especially my dad. Failure was asking for help–any help–once I graduated college. I was lucky to have my very expensive (too expensive in hindsight) college paid for by my parents, and they never fought me on my degree in the arts despite having no clarity into what a career in the specific field I majored in would look like, or how little of a propensity I had for its technical requirements. But once my final graduation photo was snapped, I was on my own. I had no college loans, but I still had to pay the rent. And then I figured out that having money was better than not having money, and having a lot of money was better than having a little bit of money, so that even with my non-frugal habits I could still manage to survive without asking anyone for help.

Since my creative dreams weren’t fleshed out anyway, they were tossed to the sidelines and my only mission at hand was to not run out of money. My “career dreams” were non existent. Which is ok. Lots of people work to work. There’s nothing wrong with that. And I’ve done that. In smaller companies, at the least, I felt like there was this energy of doing the impossible that I was familiar with from my creative pursuits. Sure, everyone wanted to get rich–but we knew it was a long shot. We enjoyed building something new together. At least that felt a bit more home to me, despite not being right. Had I founded the company–maybe then it would feel right, but inevitably with a thick-headed CEO who thought they knew everything (and clearly didn’t) I ended up, along with my colleagues, becoming frustrated watching our collective dreams turn into a company worth less than investors poured into it.

But in a big company, where money flows into bigger salaries and stock packages, especially for those considered rockstars, there is a clear focus on work for work’s sake. I sit back–fall back–and watch those around me operate flawlessly, with the energy of a doctor saving the life of a newborn child, to promote a product designed to help automate processes and save costs by removing human labor (amongst other useful but equally dystopian value props.) As I’ve managed to double my net worth in the last hand change of years, many others who, pre-covid, sit alongside me, are off on a rocketship straight to the .01%. And those fresh out of college, lucky with a relatively small grant that has turned a small amount into a large amount, are not set for life, but on the path to far greater wealth than I’ll likely ever see. These people work hard as hell (or fake it well enough that even intuitive I can’t tell the difference.) They send perfectly-scripted email notifications that thank everyone who contributed to a project while, barely reading between the lines, self-promoting their own work. These people talk the talk so well, from using all the business jargon without a hint of irony, to making everything sound so damn important. There’s humor as well, but a certain type of humor that is not dark or witty or particularly funny. It’s careful and redundant, and yet everyone laughs anyway because that’s what you do. Those who can’t do humor tend to avoid it until their boss tells them to throw a joke in their next speech, and we continue to laugh.

I’d rather get to the point, I guess.

What is the point? My point. My point is that I don’t fit in this world. I like making money. Clearly. It’s pretty incredible. Necessary, of course. How else does one pay off a $7k a month mortgage? Even if it’s $5k a month now with my FIL paying $2k a month in rent–in a few years it will be all us. Can we really afford this? I guess so. Eventually $7k a month will seem reasonable… maybe. Going rent for a house here was around $5k, so in some odd years it will catch up. But then there’s the cost of keeping the house functional. So many things have popped up. I’m now budgeting about $2k a month for house stuff. Some of it is must have, some nice-to-have, and maybe eventually we’ll be able to bring that down to a lower amount. This doesn’t include utilities and such, but everything else that goes into owning a house. It’s not cheap.

The house does kind of lock me into this high-earning lifestyle, even if I’m unable to get a job ever again that’s quite as high earning (likely.) That’s why this year is so damn important. It’s crazy that every 3 month I can make about $200k ($100k after tax) on top of my salary and such. I’m basically making 4 years of normal income in one year, which doesn’t make it possible to quit corporate America and spend my waking non-parenting hours on passion projects, but it’s a start. It has me questioning–from the moment I wake up the instant I drift off to dreamland–what the fuck is next? Do I seek another rocketship? Do I learn how to play the game better next time (and maybe not admit to my boss, in a momentary lapse of judgment due to the sleepless nights of being a new mom, that I’ve been fired numerous times in the past and that I think I’m overpaid — oops) and see whatever’s next as another step towards freedom to do something meaningful, whatever that is? I won’t see a stock package like this again unless I manage to obtain a very senior role which is a bad idea for numerous reasons even if I could do that–but staying in my current company won’t ever see this kind of income again either (I’m not getting stock refreshes since they don’t actually want me to stay–it’s clear I’m going to be leaving by choice or by force at some point and this time I prefer to do this by choice, I think, though a few months of unemployment and COBRA may be just what I need next year–but I don’t think I can handle the mental toll of losing yet another job. I should leave on my own, with my head held as high as I can hold it, weak neck and all.)

But–where was I? I guess, I feel like maybe if I lean into this ADHD thing and try strategies that work for other HSP with ADHD then… maybe I can find something that works for a bit longer than 3 months > crashing and burning in whatever new job I take on. Maybe it’s finding a different yet still decently-paid career. In order to afford this house, this $84k a year of mortgage/taxes/insurance, we need to make $300k a year (if you go with the 28% rule.) My husband makes $100k at the moment (though that’s 1099, so we can reduce that to $85k, which means that need to make $215k a year in order for our house to make sense. Anything above this is great. But I don’t have to make more than $215k. The question is, how do I make $215k consistently? If I can get on a career path where $225k-$250k is the norm and I can get one one that I’m decent enough at to not lose my job every few years then — we’re ok. If my husband can keep his job (which he will unless the org he works for goes out of business) then I just have to get that $215k each year and we’re doing ok. Not living a fancy life, by any means, but we’ll be able to pay the mortgage for the next 30 years.

That’s clearly not what I want, though — 30 years of my entire life being centered on making $215k or more. From 37 to 67, needing every single year to have a career making such income is pretty darn depressing. My dad died at 67. So there’s that. I don’t want this to be the rest of my life. At some point I want to be able to take a risk. Make something. Do something meaningful before I die.

Does that make me a selfish person? An unrealistic one? Maybe. But I have dreams. I might be getting old(er) and grey(er) but I’m not dead yet. My kids remind me of the dreams I once had when anything was possible. I didn’t notice the moment when life switched from everything is possible to practically nothing is, but somehow that switch triggered and I missed it while I was counting up my net worth and figuring out how to convince my boss to give me another 30 days before pulling another trigger to have HR walk me out of the building. The years just go. And soon they will be gone. How do I make any of this make sense while not putting my family on the street? I guess it’s not that dire. We’ve got plenty of savings now. Enough to ride of a few bad years. But I don’t want a few bad years. I want many good ones. And I’m desperate to find a path to them.

I’m Not Actually Jealous of SAHMs. Right?

Making money doesn’t make me happy, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ll never find a job that brings me joy. So I have to find happiness outside of work. And I have to figure out how work fits into my life now and short term and long term. If I ever do save enough to retire early, then what? Would I even like being a stay at home mom?

I have friends who are stay at home moms, or who run their own business and work flexible hours and aren’t actually working to support the household but instead are running a business as more of a passion project. I’ll never be those friends–I don’t have a husband who is a senior-level engineer who makes enough to afford a Bay Area mortgage. And I’m ok with that. But I’m growing tired of paying a Bay Area mortgage altogether, 4 months into doing just that. Only 356 more months to go of paying $7k a month to live in a house that needs a good amount of work that will cost who knows how much more.

I went for a walk with my 2.5 year old last week and realized I’ve barely seen him lately. It’s hard now with a baby, but it was nice to have some 1×1 time with him. He’s at that age where he notices when you’re not paying attention, and when you are, even if you’re just sitting behind him while he doodles on a water mat or with chalk on the sidewalk. All my son knows of me is a mom who is constantly on her computer or on her phone. I want to change that.

But in 2 more months I’ll go back to work. I’ll likely work from home for a while. Maybe the rest of the year. I’ll be busy, if I’m so lucky. I’ll stay employed through the end of the year. And then I’ll see what’s next. I won’t be anywhere near Fat FIRE then. Especially not with this $7k a month mortgage weighing over my shoulders until I’m an old lady. My husband isn’t interested in earning more income. He isn’t interested in moving somewhere cheaper so I can have a little less pressure to maintain employment. So I can maybe spend a little more time with my kids before they become adults.

I guess seeing how old my 2.5 is — how fast childhood goes when you’re watching it form the lens of being a kid’s mom — of seeing my grandmother’s heart breaking over and over again when we talk about my dad, her first born, who died 2.5 years ago at age 67 — and you can hear the memories in her voice, memories I’m not making with my kids because I’m so busy not only working but also just worrying constantly about work and how I can’t manage the social/political pressures in the corporate environment… I’m losing precious moments of being a mom.

So I keep parsing my life to date to try to figure out what might bring me happiness and what won’t. I want to work, but not to make money, which is a privileged thing to even consider, and it isn’t actually logistically feasible right now, or maybe ever, but maybe I don’t have to make quite so much eventually. What if we get to $2.5M-$3M by the end of the year–which is somehow possible–then… could I shift the way my life works? Not here. Not in the Bay Area. But what if we moved? What if we went somewhere else where I could work remote for a company and make less or do something creative and who knows…

What I do know is I’m counting on work to fulfill me and it’s failing at that, and my life isn’t fulfilling me as I feel isolated and no one gives a shit about hearing anything about my day or telling me about theirs and I have a few friends but we rarely talk and when we do I never know what to say or I find my only friendships are just back-and-forth complaining which isn’t very positive and there hasn’t been much positive in my life except my children, and I’m not present for them at all. If I’m not present while on maternity leave, how will I be when I go back to work? My father-in-law is raising my toddler and while I love that they have a close relationship… I miss being a mom. Whatever that means. I’m not the mom I want to be.  And by the time I’ve saved “enough” it will be too late.

My husband gets upset when I talk about moving or doing anything drastic now as we’ve committed to the house his dad lives with us and we really can’t move now. I need to stop complaining about what I thought I wanted even though now that I have it I realize it isn’t what I want at all. I need to shut up and keep my head down and make it work, like so many people do. I’m not going to last forever in this job, but maybe I can get to the end of the year. I think it’s possible. I may get that salary decrease I’m expecting, but I’ll still get my stock as long as they don’t fire me. So, I just have to focus on this year. But I’m worried my mental health will be so shitty I’ll fail to appreciate any of the moments with my kids even if I’m actually here for them. And pretty soon my toddler will be a kid in school and I won’t be able to randomly take him to wherever during the day (not that we can do that now) and spend time together. I want to do those things now before he’s in school 5 days a week except holidays and a short summer until he’s 18 and then he’s off to college. We’ll never get this time back.

Can I manage to fight through this year and keep my job while also being a present mother? I want to figure out how to feed my toddler healthier food, keep the house clean, teach him new things. I see the way he looks at me now. I’m his mom. I want to have time to figure out what that means. Maybe next year.

All I’m Asking is For is a LIttle RESPECT (just a little bIt)

Two things are blatantly obvious — when my division’s boss wants to keep someone, he throws the world at them. And when he (and those under him but over you) don’t care if you stay or walk, they treat you like less than a human being who isn’t worth their time. It’s painful, but they know as well as I do that I can’t walk unless I’m a trust fund baby (I’m not) or criminally insane (close, but not yet.) So they don’t invest any time in caring about informing me of such things as whatever kind of weird demotion I’ve been put through this year.

My new boss sent me a note this morning with my old boss CC’d about how my bonus will be paid out today (great!) and to let him know if I have any questions (uh… not so great, that means I’m not getting my full bonus, right?) Now, this year I’m lucky to get ANY bonus for many reasons —- the state of the world… being kicked out of my role and my old boss clearly wanting to fire me and likely being told by HR to wait until after maternity leave and such (no proof of this but seems to be true) I ought to be happy for pocket change as a bonus. My overall compensation this year due to my stock vesting is insane. A few percentage points in bonus distribution won’t put a dent in that.

But here is the deal — for the last 3 years… even last year when I was put on a PIP—I was paid my full bonus. I didn’t expect it last year. But that set a psychological precedent. And I know I 100% performed better this last year. I wasn’t perfect. Clearly. I suck at communication and I delivered a few projects late, even though that didn’t impact launch dates. My former boss really is over me as an employee on her team. She moved me to report to someone under her—because she doesn’t want to waste her time dealing with me. I frustrate her and she doesn’t want to have to interact with me on a weekly basis. She sees some value in my output—as long as she doesn’t have to be in meetings with me or manage me or—acknowledge my existence as a fellow human being.

So why should she take two minutes to message me and let me know I would not be getting my full bonus? Yes, I’m on leave now—but clearly she wanted to have my new boss share the news in an early review before I went out then they weren’t ready for that in time so it never happened. Instead of being honest about things and sending me a note saying something about my bonus payout and anything else hitting before I get back from leave (Ie any paycuts/title demotions) I was just ignored. Left to see my lower bonus hit my account and to do the math myself. Even the note this morning was super cryptic. “Message me if you have any questions” — from the new boss. Uh, yes I have a question… what is my bonus payout based on as I can’t figure out how this number came to be… unless my pay was significantly cut and I haven’t been told that yet either.

It really makes little sense. My bonus is supposed to be 20% of my pay. But the bonus paid out only makes sense if my salary is 150k (it’s 175k, or at least it was.) If the bonus is a percentage of 175 then I’m not sure how they got 30k. So my bigger concern is if they are flailing around when to tell me my salary has been cut by 25k. Which is possible. Anything is possible. I don’t see how I can report to my new boss as we both are at the same level in the org—so I imagine either he needed to be promoted this year, or I needed to be demoted. This is maybe all in my head, but I’m pretty damn good at intuiting these things. But if any of this is true, they really should tell me before I find out via my paycheck. I mean, if they considered me worth anything. Clearly they don’t. And it fucking hurts.

That said, everyone knows I cannot walk. The value of my stock, at least this year, is way too high. As I’ve noted before it’s a winning lottery ticket in my hand and all I’ve got to do, barring any unexpected layoff, is to hold my breath, smile with whatever dignity I have left, and take the high road until I can take the high road out of there next year. If I can take my ego out of it, I’m in a really good position to ride this out. It’s just a year now. And, I also think my old boss likes me as a person, unlike prior bosses who have fired me quickly, and she deep down wants me to win here, she just gets frustrated by me and has no time or interest in being my coach. She is undoubtedly looking at an even bigger lottery ticket, a multi-year one at that, and she sure as hell isn’t letting little ol me get in the way of wherever that rocketship is taking her. And I respect her on many levels too. I admire her work ethic, her ability to multitask and always deliver excellent work. So I am sad I let her down. That I am in this awkward place between staying and going. But it is what it is. It most certainly won’t get any better. My job is to stay employed 12 more months. To do a few really strong projects between now and then, despite being in the sleep deprived haze of year one of parenting and full-time breastfeeding. Uh, good luck to me.

I’m trying to approach the year ahead as one quarter at a time. Each is an opportunity to earn more than I earned in an entire year before starting this job, and likely more than I’ll earn in an entire year after leaving. Yes, it’s sick how I, at a time when so many are going hungry and not allowed to work, even as an employee considered an underperformer, am being paid so damn much. I don’t deserve this at all, and yet here I am complaining about getting like 85% of my bonus instead of 100%. But I know my company performed strongly this year, and my guess is a small batch of people were given less than full bonuses to manage cash flow and maybe to prevent any layoffs in the coming year should things take a turn given the whole world is fucked right now. And many companies didn’t even pay out bonuses at all, so I’m damn lucky to get anything (and they know that.) Right?

For all I know, everyone didn’t get their full bonus this year. But if that was the case it would be helpful for them to communicate this to be as well. Just some sort of explanation now vs waiting until I come back from leave and have a formal review. Then again my boss apparently thought I was returning in 2 weeks (um, 6 weeks after having my baby) — which is not correct—I’ll be out for 14 weeks, a pretty big difference. Not sure where he got the 6 weeks from but again you would think if he wasn’t sure he might ask me (I also mentioned Q2 before so not sure where he got the idea i would be back in Feb?) Anyway, yet another example of how this company clearly doesn’t give a shit about me. If they don’t want me to leave, they sure as hell are doing a horrible job encouraging me to stay—esp after this year when my stock pool is much smaller. I must be in the bucket of employees titled “meh” — subtitle “let them leave on their own… or not… we don’t care.” I’m guessing this bucket is also the first to be cut in any formal layoff, so knock on wood that doesn’t happen this coming year,

Ok, so the challenge here is how to put out incredible work while being so ripped up about how I’m sitting in horse manure at my company with no path to get out of it. So I have to sit in the muck and smell it all day long and still have a big ass smile on my face and pretend like I don’t notice I’ve been relegated to function in a big ol pile of poop. I can get up and shower and get out on my own, but man does life in poop pile pay well. I think I’ll stay a while. And try to convince everyone I just lovvvveee sitting in heaps of feces, watching my colleagues be wrapped in the finest silk and flown on heavenly jets, and doing my best creative work. Ever. Like some brilliant shit that makes them think, man, we ought to keep her around for one-more-quarter. Just four more times. Three more, really, once I am back. So doable. So smelly. Shit.

But before you roll your eyes at me and my situation, know that even my silk-wearing colleague who took over my role is struggling. I mean, I’m not sure if anyone notices or if he is just overly critical of his work, but he is facing the same roadblocks I did due to the disorganization of leadership and constantly changing direction. People think he is brilliant so he gets away with delays and such, as far as I can tell, but he sees that the whole situation is pretty challenging for anyone to thrive in. I guess that makes me feel a bit better about things. Not that he is being set up to fail as well, but that anyone in that role would struggle (plus I always had that role plus about 90 other roles making it impossible to focus on doing it well, kind of unfair to compare my performance in the position to his anyway, right?)

Well, I should be sleeping as it is 4am but I have a 3 week old who refuses to sleep in his bassinet so I’m currently under him as he grunts and farts away the night (until he wakes up and looks like a bird human from a horror movie, attempting to find my nipples fit his hundredth nightly snack.) This is what matters. I’m trying to separate work from life but it’s hard as work has always been my life. I don’t know how to make it not my life. Maybe that’s the problem. But if you look at anyone in my company, especially those on my team, who are successful — well they live and breathe their jobs. My former boss hasn’t taken much time off since she started at the company, and I’m pretty sure she worked a bit even on her days off. I think she subconsciously resents me a bit too—being able to not only take maternity leave, but also taking vacation days and using them. I took no more than my colleague but I’m sure she forgot how much he took and sees me taking a lot as I’m a mom with kids so obviously I’m not dedicated to my job. Maybe it’s all in my head but I don’t think so. Unconscious bias is real and when you already have a narrative in your head about a person every little plot point will support that narrative unless you actively try to reframe it (or, you know, care to.) Everything I do supports her story of me being a train wreck. Anything positive I do is quickly forgotten. My only saving grace is that compared to a few prior hires who were total asses (or rightfully spoke up for themselves amidst the craziness, depending who you ask) I have generally maintained a ridiculously good attitude about sitting in the shit pile. Instead of complaining about my partial bonus pay or asking for an explanation I just responded with a thank you. When my former boss told me on my half year review that I just don’t have the personality to lead, I shared that I believe one can always get better at things and I will always try to improve myself, but I am open to any role she sees fit for my abilities (and lack thereof.) i guess compared to a few of her former hires and the crapshoot of future ones, I’m at least loyal and do good work. That’s not me trying to keep my job, that’s just me. I care a lot. Too much. It’s a problem. I’m not some corporate robot. I’m in it with my full heart. I can’t be any way else.

So right now I’m setting a first goal for June 30. At this point of the year I should be at approximately $450k in income for the year. Should I lose my job at that point, I can walk knowing this was still my second highest earnings year ever. While I can make about 200k per quarter for the remainder of the year (and very much want to make that additional 400k) I HAVE to feel good about getting to the end of June if that’s all I can do. That’s just 10 weeks or so after coming back from leave. And barring getting caught up in any mass layoff, or losing my mind and telling them “what I really think,” I should be able to make it. That’s a huge win. Ginormous. I have to be happy with that. And I can still earn more this year… I could take 3 months off and get another job in the fall and still make over 500k for the year. It’s hard to see that as winning if I’m leaving another 400k+ on the table (when it is likely my income will drop below 200k in my next role) but fuck it. I have to feel good about all of this. My husband makes 100k a year yet still makes me feel crappy about maybe losing my job half way through the year. I don’t think he really should criticize me when I have managed to earn so much in a short amount of time. Maybe taking 3 months off this year, should I get fired, isn’t the end of the world. Maybe it’s the start of a new world. I don’t know. I’m tired. Tired of being in their corporate career that makes no sense to me. I don’t know what I want other than not this. I want to write, I think, but maybe movies or tv shows or something. I want to help people. To inspire them. And to be a good mom. I don’t know. I feel like — I am turning 40 in less than 3 years. And while 40 isn’t “old” it sure as hell not young. Fuck I can’t even make those 40 under 40 lists anymore at that point. I’ll have to encourage someone to start 50 over 40 who aren’t yet 50 who suddenly figured out their life’s calling but aren’t old enough to be on lists of people who did that when they were impressively old. Or something. Did I mention I have a 3 week old and I haven’t slept much in 3 weeks?

June. 30. I’m going to get there. Some how, some way. After that every paycheck and vest for the year is icing on this melted manure cake. I’m all for icing, but I’ve got to grant myself some grace. Or whatever. It’s important to recognize that even if I am falling apart in the flesh, on paper I’m kicking ass. And, in reality, I’m just, as always, holding on for fear life. So I’ll keep on keepin on.

433 Days Until Something Better.

I browse job postings on the daily. Usually they just depress me. I feel painfully unqualified for everything. While I’m in a better place than I was on my last job search, now with 3 years under my belt at a public company with a name that would be recognized, my experience still makes absolutely no sense when compared to jobs out there in the real world. But today, I found a job that actually seemed like it might be a good fit at a target company that is about 15 minutes from my new house.

However, I’m not going to apply. I’m tempted. Trust me. But between being on maternity leave and my earning potential over the next 433 days, I just can’t get into the process of attempting to get a new job. But I’m getting close to the time when I should start applying. I’m going to try to wait until 2022 before I start applying, and then I’ll let the resume outflow flood gates loose. Maybe I’ll get lucky. Or not. I guess as long as I have a job I’m in no rush to jump to the next thing. Maybe on Jan 1, 2022, I’ll still have a job. It’s possible.

I’m hopeful. 433 days sounds like a lot. But time still has its way of flying by, especially in the first sleepless year of having a kid. I’m hoping with the whole work from home situation ongoing people will just forget I exist. That’s not going to help me get ahead in my current company, but getting ahead is not actually possible anymore. I’ve lost any chance I had at a leadership role or promotion and am lucky if I don’t get an official demotion this year. So maybe I can just stay quiet, put out a few good projects, and ride the year out without people remembering I’m still on the payroll… at least until next year’s performance reviews and when I’m already at least deep in the process of applying for new roles.

But I’m so tempted to apply now and to get out. My ego is beyond beaten down. It isn’t what happened, it’s how it happened. It is a new leadership team forming for my group and not being told about it and not being placed on it — not being officially demoted yet clearly being removed from any strategic decision making. I am not at all surprised by any of this, I just feel like the least they could have done was given me a new title and explained I wouldn’t be considered a leader on the team anymore. Just some honesty and clarity. But I guess that’s too much to ask for when my boss is probably thinking I’m lucky I was pregnant and that she can’t fire me per some HR policy or something. Anyway. I’m trying not to dwell on it. I am lucky. and she could have still let me go as she has plenty of documentation on my failures and my admission of my mental health issues that get in the way of my doing a consistent good job. So. I know things are shit and they aren’t getting any better. Not at this company. It would be nice to think I could move up again. Redeem myself. It’s not happening. That’s ok. I feel humiliated and want to just put it behind me, but I can’t. Not yet.

I’m trying to focus on how to go into a new role — if I can get a new role — with a new personality. I can’t let any mania or depression lead me to admitting anything to my boss about how much of a mess I am. I need to hold it together. Keep my true self hidden. Figure out how to not overcommit and get everything done on time. I’m scared because I feel like I’m doomed to repeat this mess over and over again for the rest of my career. I need to learn how to control myself better. The last two years have been an exceptional cluster. It’s not new for me though, but normal cluster me with the exhaustion of young children is pretty much a recipe for getting fired. I can’t believe I’ve lasted this long. I put out some good work in between falling apart again and again. So I just have to get rid of the mess part and focus on the good work part. Somehow. Maybe next time I can not crumble as I always do.

It just feels like a lonely road. I don’t have anyone to talk to about this who gets it. My husband doesn’t work in the same industry and he’s watched me fall apart time and again over the last two decades we have known each other. While he used to be worried about it, he has also seen how every time I’ve gone through getting fired I’d find a new job that pays better soon after and he no longer is too concerned. He doesn’t like to hear about my work either way. My therapist doesn’t get it either. The only coworker who gets it is the one who took over my prior role, so that’s awkward. But he knows how messed up things are and how it wasn’t all my fault. I wish I had friends I could talk to about work shit. But I don’t. I mean I don’t really have many friends. I blog because who do I have to talk to about any of this? It’s nice there are people out there who read this blog and can relate, or at least understand this type of corporate environment and can see how it’s not completely my fault or have some context of even if it is then maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s ok to seek out a lower stress role and try to float, or something.

I’m tired of chasing money, I guess. Not that I was… the stock gains happened without chasing them. Now I have this crazy potential earnings amount on paper for this year and I freak out whenever I think of losing that lottery ticket. So I just have to calm the fuck down and carry on. For now. Then… well, then… I have to figure out what happens then. On my own. Because who can help me? Who would even start to understand… how I’m so “successful” and yet have no employable skills. People hire me because they think I’m brilliant and then they soon realize that I’m not. But how else can I get hired? I’ve only been hired because people think I’m special. Well, clearly I’m not special enough.

A Job Without a Title

When I was demoted/layered/whatever-you-want-to-call-it a few months ago, I was told I’m being moved to a new role, reporting to a new person, and didn’t have a say in the matter. As I was about to head into my maternity leave and was gracious to survive last year’s PIP by the skin of my teeth, and some information I knew via the grapevine via my colleague having already replaced me in that position, I knew it wasn’t worth fighting it. My choices were to agree to the change and do my best in the new role or to move on. With my stock package it makes no sense to move on, at least not now, but I’m still struggling with how it was handled and feeling like I failed myself yet again despite having done some really good work last year.

Of all the flubs in my demotion, I’d say the one that hurts the most is not actually having a new title. I was pitched the new role in a way that surely was HR- and legal-approved in advance of my leave (it’s not a demotion, it’s moving you into something that you can excel at!) I was clearly removed from direct contact with my then boss as much as possible–she seems to appreciate my work at a distance and prefer to not have to meet with me on the regular. My new position was not fleshed out. That too was pitched as my having the opportunity to build something from the ground up. However, my plans were ignored, my budget and project proposal not seriously considered, and any ideas I had brushed to the sidelines. It’s clear this role is not a priority and seems to be created for the illusion of not demoting me one month before my leave. Which, given the amount on the table I have to earn this year due to stock appreciation, I should be beyond grateful for. It just hurts. It hurts because I don’t even know what title to put under my name. I don’t even know if I’m still at the same respective level…

My boss initially wanted to have my annual performance review early, before I went out on leave. Then it got pushed a bit. Then I went out on leave earlier than planned, but I didn’t hide the fact that this might happen. So as it stands, I’ll know in a month, via my paycheck, if I managed to get a bonus last year. I should also know if I received any sort of stock refresh once that hits my account. I’m not expecting it, though. And that’s fine. I know they’re throwing the stars and the moon at my colleague who now has my former role. He is smart and hits deadlines so why not? Last year I eeked by with a standard cost of living raise (~1.5%) which was, of course, better than nothing, but also a clear reminder of how the company views me and the value I bring to it. I’m not sure if anyone who keeps their job at the annual performance review gets 0%, so I’m assuming the 1.5% is for the lowest performers in the company who aren’t asked to leave. That’s incredibly motivating.

I know it’s not just me. It is just me in that I fucked up majorly a few times last year in ways that could have been avoided. I know that the way things run is a bit all over the place, and to survive you have to just make sense of it all and have a ridiculous amount of confidence to make it seem like you know what’s going on so everyone else believes that you do. I just want to do good work, and that requires time to get the appropriate information. People to collaborate with. Perhaps a boss who cares about any of my work other than is it done on time and did anyone complain that I’m running late. While deadlines matter, a lot, some context for any delays might help. Or some support to brainstorm and come up with answers vs leaving me on my own and saying because I couldn’t handle it on my own I clearly don’t have leadership potential. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I don’t even care anymore about “leadership potential,” but I do care about career path so far as being able to pay my mortgage and not going a thousand steps backwards in terms of reasonable salary expectations over the coming years. As I approach 40, it’s clear that there are two directions to go here–up, or flatline.  I guess it’s the mom track. Or the ADHD track. Or the you-don’t-belong-here-but-you-occasionally-do-good-work-so-we’ll-keep-you-on-the-sidelines track and get rid of you when we don’t need you anymore. You’re easy to cut.

Apparently leadership requires a hyper focus on doing the things that have the greatest visibility and ignoring all of the problems that need solving. I tend to get fixated on fixing vs on making myself look good. That alone is a problem. So why am I not fixing that one?

I know this year is just a year and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it through. I’m so fortunate to be in a position where, as long as I don’t totally fuck things up (or get caught up in a massive layoff) I should be able to survive from now until Jan 1. But then what? My new role has no legs. It’s not like I’m going to stay at this company for 5 years in this new position and be successful. I’ll always be at the bottom of the pile when it comes to requesting budget and getting support of ideas. Even my boss isn’t sure what to do to support me as he also can’t get budget buy in for my projects that he thinks are important. Funny that when I joined the company 3 years ago I was in the weekly departmental leadership meetings. How far I’ve fallen.

It is just scary because I still don’t know what my career is. I have some idea of what I want it to be, but no idea how to get there. And I’m old now. Like, not old, old. But old enough that changing careers at this point is hard. Hard when you’re a mom of 2 young kids and want another and realize your career is 30 years more, max, and that’s maybe 6-10 different jobs, or less, until you’re retired, if you retire at typical retirement age. Those years will speed by in a blur. That’s life. You want to do something meaningful. There’s so little time left. But you have to pay your mortgage. And you’re not actually good at anything. Except writing incredibly long blog posts about how you’re not good at anything except writing incredibly long blog posts.

So, I’ve got this year to survive. And survive it, I will. Knock on wood. But then what the fuck do I do?

 

 

Moving Week. So Long Apartment. Hello House of Holes. (This isn’t a post about porn.)

Sorry to disappoint, but House of Holes is not the title of the new porno I’m staring in–it’s what the house I’m moving into looks like at the moment.

Despite our hopes to have all construction work done before moving in and before having a baby, in actuality we’re moving into a house with a circuit busted, holes just about everywhere (my favorite is the giant dark gaping hole… into the crawl space of doom where the furnace used to be) and my electric panel to replace the one that apparently self combusts without notice is going to make it in sometime around the second week of January, despite contracting for it back in mid November. Oh, and my bathroom is, well, it looks like the early stages of a home remodeling show at the second. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t take 30 minutes to transform from drab to fab.

My biggest concern about all the work still needing to be done is not the holes or lack of lighting. It’s that now we have to live in a house with people coming in and out in the height of the pandemic. We are setting it up so our bed will be in the living room on one end of the house away from most of the construction and hoping between that and going out on the days people are doing work, we can avoid getting sick.

Speaking of getting sick, my husband’s grandmother, age 96, caught COVID at her nursing home this week. The window visit to see her yesterday was scary and surreal. So far she’s doing “ok” in the sense that she was moved to a larger nursing home and is sitting up and communicating, but she got a positive diagnosis just 4 days ago (her entire group home got sick – ugh!) so at this point, who knows. I thought the window visit would be regulated somehow… I mean, it was probably fine, but after nearly a year of being so careful to avoid humans who might have COVID, it felt strange to walk a path around the nursing home past windows (hopefully all closed) with my husband and son (wearing our masks of course) to a window in the back that they opened for the visit. She sat 6 feet away, supposedly. She seemed happy to see us and my son. We haven’t seen her in nearly a year. The group home where she was went into complete lock down in March, or so we were told. I can’t even imagine what the last months were like for her. We’re not close or anything (she doesn’t talk much and is quite introverted) but still… what a sad life–already a sad life being a widow in your 90s stuck in a small house waiting to die. And then corona comes along and you can’t even see your family. Horrible.

She is 96 which is pretty incredible and I’ve read people over 95 tend to actually fare better with COVID because they have really good genes, so we’re hopeful. We, of course, don’t want to lose great grandma, and certainly not to COVID, but on top of all this–when my husband’s grandmother does pass away, it will set off a domino effect of logistical nightmare for my husband and his mother, as his mother lives in her mother’s house which is filled with half a century or more of thrift store hoarder heaven. Undoubtedly the brother who is managing his mother’s care will be quick to want to sell the house, which means it will need to be emptied and we will need to find a place for my husband’s mother to live. That alone will be a huge stress and mess whenever it happens. If it happens to happen the week my second child is born (which would be perfectly on schedule for my curse, by the way–my grandma died 4 days after my wedding, dad died 7 days after my first son was. born) then, well, it’s going to be what it is but I know my husband, faced with the reality of this situation happening now is having a heart attack every few minutes at the moment, besides being devastated that his grandma caught COVID just weeks before a vaccine availability for people her age.

I was not feeling optimistic about her situation until seeing her yesterday, and now feel a bit more hopeful. We talked to a guy who works at the nursing home (he was wearing a mask and we were outside but he got close to us to take our temperature which I found kind of crazy as if WE had COVID we weren’t going to give it to anyone during a visit where we stood outside, and HE was clearly around COVID patients all day and got, you know, within 3 feet of us to take our forehead temps. I held my breath when he took it but of course my 2 year old son did not know how to do that (he was wearing a mask, but I’m not sure how effective masks are when you’re that close.) So I’m feeling more optimistic about my husband’s grandmother recovering from Coronavirus and less optimistic of me not having Coronavirus when I go into labor. Even if I didn’t go to visit her, my husband was going, and he wanted to take our son, and it was outside (and his grandmother was sitting inside 6 feet away and we were all wearing masks), but I just feel uneasy about that whole situation. California is going to shit when it comes to our Coronavirus numbers, but in this case we chose to go near a facility with known patients. In my 35th week of pregnancy. With a husband who has high blood pressure. And a 2 year old who would probably be fine if he caught Corona unless he had a horrible reaction to it, but who knows what it does to kids over the long term?

So that just adds another layer to everything right now, everything which has so many layers I’m just letting them build up at this point and not attempting to peal them. I can’t. It’s too much. Even my upcoming performance review (which was now moved to January since I’ve opted to work a bit longer after finding out how much money I’ll be losing if I take off the extra 2-3 weeks before my delivery date) is barely registering with me, despite the occasional mental loop about how my boss and my former boss with (possibly) cautiously tell me about my demotion and how I’ll never be a leader and carefully document all of my mistakes last year so they can throw me out as soon as I get back to work after maternity leave and pass whatever HR qualified period is required to not fire a woman who just had a baby. Of course, I’ll do what it takes to be GREAT for as long as I can when I get back (which is difficult when you just had a baby and do not sleep–my first PIP came a week after I got back from maternity leave and I was losing my mind, so who knows what will happen this time.) I don’t know. I have a lot of money on the line right now. And I feel like my new role is actually good for me in that I can get the work done to an acceptable level. Maybe that’s what my former boss is thinking too. She is actually a nice person and seems to like me enough and she knows how much $ I have on the line and if she wanted to she could have fired me last year (I gave her quite the runway between the PIP and announcing that I’m pregnant so she didn’t have to feel like she was stuck with me) and she decided to keep me, or decided to not make it a priority to get rid of me at the time. Because I did do some good work. She even said so. I was doing really well the first half of the year. Then I had 3 bad months. Then I was demoted and told I’ll never be a leader.

Anyway, maybe it’s true. Or maybe I’m just going through a lot in my personal life right now and it’s not the time to lead. I just wish I could have a job where I didn’t have to constantly worry about getting fired. Layoffs happen and can’t be avoided, but I don’t want my performance to ever be part of the equation. I look at my friend who is just so confident and always gets his work done, despite his work not being too complex yet, and how that led to his promotion into my former role. Now, said friend is seemingly really good at strategy for this specific position, and he deserves to move up in his career and have a shot at running the show. Still, I’m unclear how the work I’ve done (and what I’ve put out) is so horrible over what he might do. People just have a negative perception of me because I’m a bad project manager, but all of my contributions have been solid as far as I know. I just missed a few deadlines (which for the most part didn’t even push out project launches, just internal deadlines that were set too aggressively in the first place.)

Where I really failed was in not focusing on a strategy that tied to my boss’s plans close enough. But even that was pretty difficult to do as those plans changed and there was no strategic guidance. So I came up with a plan based on whatever it was I picked up on working remote from the various teams and people seemed happy with it at the time. I tried to execute on that plan and I did execute on it, but not in the way I should have. I should have made things simple, delegated work to lots of people, and lead in making other people do things so things got done and everyone was aligned and excited and motivated and everyone was like, damn gurrrrlll, you are the best leader ever. Instead I came up with a plan (collaboratively, mind you) and then tried to get the work done by reaching out to people across the organization vs mostly on my team. Stuff was pretty complicated and I wanted to make sure I put out things that were accurate so it took me too long. I set unrealistic deadlines, but for me deadlines are always unrealistic because I have a mental flaw where I can’t actually focus on work until the last minute, and then somehow the brain block opens and suddenly I am doing work that would take someone 2 weeks in one night. And no one knows the difference. Except when I’m so anxious about the situation that I can’t even get that one night. Or a bunch of people review the work and change their minds after they told me one thing, so I have to change it again. And I don’t know how to say “this is done” because I want to make everyone happy.

Anyway, wasn’t this a house about those dark holes in my house? The point was, I’m just not super focused on my job situation right now in that I have little time to dwell on it outside of hoping that whatever this review is, I’m given some sort of opportunity to take the rest of the next year to do my new job and am not given an actual demotion yet. Even if my title drops to the next tier, if I can keep the same pay and vesting schedule I would lose out only on a percentage of my bonus next year. Which would be sad but not the end of the world. I don’t know if they can take back any stock grants at this point, even with a demotion, so hopefully I can hold on to that.

Maybe after I’ve moved to my new house, set up an actual office (vs working for the past year FROM MY BED in my ONE BEDROOM APARTMENT) and have gotten past the first few sleepless months of having a baby, I can actually do a decent job. Decent meaning I unlock the mystery of making plans for a project that everyone is aligned with, from starting ideation to launch and beyond, and every single project I manage is so perfectly executed that no one can say a  negative word about me. There is absolutely nothing I can do to move up in this organization again, but that is not my goal. I have 15 months of survival, and then I can evaluate where I’m at. In 15 months, I hope to have this job, a healthy baby (in addition to my healthy toddler), a healthy husband, a vaccinated family, a house that hasn’t burnt down (and hopefully is free of holes outside of the purposeful ones in the plumbing and entryways), and then I can stop and figure out the rest of life. Do we stay a few more years? Do we move? Do I get a new job? Do I keep this one if I’m actually good at it (despite no room for advancement?) I can figure that all out then. Right now, this is a month-by-month, week-by-week, day-by-day survival game.

The current level involves figuring out how to hire a GOOD handyman to fill in the 3×3 hole into the vortex of doom in my closet (not to mention a matching portal into the attic), and how to fix the electric circuit that my bathroom remodelers say they didn’t break (they probably did but they claim the HVAC people did this, despite us knowing it was working the night of the HVAC work being complete), and all the other things that will undoubtedly go wrong once we move in. I’m trying to just embrace this all as the sitcom of my life, because when you just accept that you’re living in a comedy, even the most tragic can be spun up with hilarity to get you through it. I’ve found no amount of money can protect you from the chaos that is life. Or maybe, with some ridiculous amount you can cushion yourself from it a bit (at some point you can have an electrician living with you in your contractor’s quarters) but generally speaking, life is shit for everyone. It’s good it is, I guess. It’s more shit for some people but everyone suffers at some point, $100M in the bank or not. So I embrace my varying levels of suffering, from my first world problems of a hole-ly house to those that are a bit more substantially shitty, such as when my father died a week after my son was born in a rehab facility that I’m still convinced was negligent/not where he should have been in his condition.

Right now, I don’t know how many more bad things I can take. Birth is scary as fuck and so many things can go wrong. We don’t hear about them because we’re told as long as mom and baby are healthy/alive, then things went well. That’s not really true. Lots of things can go wrong and mom/baby survive. My first birth was not horrific compared to ones I’ve read about since having my son (you know, compared to woman who had emergency C sections where the numbing meds didn’t work AND THEY FELT EVERYTHING) or those who hemorrhaged and blacked out after giving birth and aren’t sure how they’re alive) so I’m a bit terrified of what could happen… but for the most part births are pretty standard and women have their babies come out one way or another and either way is fairly safe and babies don’t typically come out not breathing and have to go to the NICU like my son and even if they do they eventually adapt to the world and thrive like my son is doing now.

But it’s hard not to worry, especially 5 weeks (or much less) until I do this all over again. I’m both oddly looking forward to it (a redemption birth, a glorious smooth birth where baby comes out and is placed on my chest and crawls to my breast and latches with no problem and we just have that beautiful, peaceful moment I hear so much about) and terrified out of my mind about all the things that could go wrong. And then just thinking through the logistics of how to make sure my son is safe while we go to the hospital… we have somewhat of a plan but it isn’t perfect. If I’m induced, it would be a bit more controlled (pick up my MIL, bring her to our house, set her and my son up for a few days of safe living) but if I go into spontaneous labor (which is the hope) then it will look more like driving 30 minutes to the hospital while I’m screaming in pain, dropping me off, either picking her up after and driving her back to my house (another 45 minutes) then driving back to the hospital and parking (another 45 minutes) until my husband gets back to be with me (leaving me alone for a good 2 hours+ while in active labor) or he drops my son off at her house which is fine for a day but not safe for an overnight, which is going to happen if it seems like I’m about to pop (I think that’s more realistic… we book it up to her house, drop my son off and continue on to the hospital together. It would be about 45 minutes from home to the hospital at that point, with the stop.) Then once I’m in recovery and given the all clear, my husband can head out and drive my son and his mother to our house, and then at some point come back to be with me and baby at the hospital. Or if I’m doing exceptionally well he can stay home with my son and his mom and get some rest while I manage baby at the hospital overnight, and then get picked up to go home in a day or two and come home to a husband who isn’t out-of-his-mind exhausted (this may be the best scenario.)

I can’t believe it’s five weeks away (and there is a chance my doctor won’t let me go beyond 39 weeks which, good ol math tells us is FOUR weeks away.) FOUR WEEKS until I knock on wood have ANOTHER kid. Life is so strange. I have definitely adjusted to being mom to one. My son is awesome.  I don’t see him as a little kid. I mean, I do in that he’s just innocent and honest and has those moments of pure joy that only someone without a grasp on the hours of the world can have. But he’s also just this little person with his own ideas and opinions and needs. And I love him to pieces…

And I don’t know how I’m going to love another kid but I’m told you just do. I think I can. I’m crazy and want 3 kids. I feel like at the end of the day, what matters to me most is family. I grew up with such a big extended family and now it’s really just us. My husband has some cousins nearby with older kids, but we don’t see them often (even pre COVID.) I wish I could be more social with them but they’re just rather adult and normal and I don’t know how to connect with adult and normal people. I mean now we can talk about kids, which is something to talk about, but I just feel like a teenager around them and they’re all such grown ups. I may be 37 but I get along with people who are mentally 16, which is the problem. They are super nice, but if I went to dinner or drinks alone with them (esp the two women who are in their early 40s who are both super nice but just superrrr normal) it would just be awkward. Not that I really connect with my extended family, but they’re at least east coast types who have big personalities and I feel a bit more comfortable around them. Anyway, I want to build my own family. And I can… I have. And to me, 2 kids is great and 3 is even better. Sure, there’s no guarantee my future kids will not be little demons but… I don’t know… my heart wants a fairly big family. Not huge. But 3 seems like the right number. It always has to me. I’ll get through #2 and see if I still feel this way. I’ll be 38 before I can start trying for #3, and I’m throwing around the idea of doing IVF both to minimize risk of defects at that age and also sex selection. Which is horrible in my politically correct mind where one should not care about the sex of their children but then I also really want to have a girl and I think I’d be sad if I didn’t at least try to make that happen. IVF will be expensive, so I’m saving up for it, but at 38/39 even if I didn’t want to do it for sex selection I still might need it. So that’s possibly in my future. But for now, I want to have a healthy birth and a healthy baby and get to know my new kiddo.

My heart is so ready to see my son meet his sibling. He’s 2.5 years old and seems to sort of get that a baby is coming. He knows I’m growing a baby and we watch YouTube videos of funny babies so he understands what a baby is. I tell him baby is coming in January and he says “NO! FEBRUARY!” and he often points to my stomach and says “BABY!!” I hope he does well with all the change coming up… the move next week (we’ve been bringing him to the house often and he definitely is comfortable being there, but I don’t know how he’ll feel when we no longer can come back to the apartment) and then they’ll be a new kid living with us! But in February grandpa will be moving in and that will be great for him since grandpa is his best friend. Grandpa has a fall and hasn’t been to the doctor as he apparently didn’t enroll in Medicare Part B (eventually I’ll write another post re: my learnings of Medicare’s insanity) and he also wants to avoid doctor due to COVID concerns (which I understand) so grandpa who is living with us to help with our son when we have our new baby will be less able to help and also prevent us from hiring help until vaccines come out since we can’t risk exposing him to the virus, so there’s that. At least grandma loves to watch our son as well and she never uses her time off so she can spend some time with us and  our son too, even if she doesn’t live with us. It will all work somehow. I don’t know how people do this without any help. I just want us all to survive.

I’m so ready for 2021. And filling the holes in my house and those in my heart opened during my last birth. It’s been a rough 2.5 years. Through all of it, I’ve held down a job, increased by net worth substantially, and have set my family up for a clear path to $2.5M in net worth by the end of 2021 or early 2022. We should clear $2M in the next week, once the rest of my stock vests, even after all the taxes I owe for this year. I don’t know how that doesn’t feel like an accomplishment… not long ago I was looking at $1M like… that’s never going to happen, and here we are, $2M with 1.5 kids and a mortgage and so many crawl space and attic entrances!

Things are really good, despite being also not so good. I want to see my mom again soon (even though she’s a narcissist, I still miss her), and I want to see my sister and my extended family and I want life to go back to normal. I want my husband’s grandmother to kick COVID’s ass (this woman will live to 110) and I want to have one of those childbirths that starts with contractions at home and ends with a birth at the hospital where baby comes out screaming in a good way. I can’t plan for 5 years from now or 3 years from now at this point. It is now until April 1, 2022. That is all that matters. We get through this, I keep my job, we don’t get sick, we pay our mortgage on time, we fill those house holes (maybe with the play doh we’re giving our son for Christmas), and we learn how to be adults. Maybe we too can become normal adults and I can go to dinner with my husband’s cousins (or invite them over) and discuss such things as my son’s school and how to maintain a backyard and house hole filing. Or whatever normal adults talk about.

What’s clear is that this now is life and I’m going to live it the best I can. Accept the holes as part of what makes it interesting. And survive until April 1, 2022, with 15 months of potential life-changing net worth growth ahead, I’m in such a good place to set my family up for many years of relative stability (even if we stay in a HCOL area), and for once I feel really good about making it. Not forever. But 15 months. I got this. Maybe even the holes will be filled in by then.

Finding Confidence and Value

There are some things I think I’m pretty good at. Work wise. The issue is, I’m not consistent. I’m not able to put the final polish on anything. I’m a starter. A connector. I can understand complex ideas and opinions and simplify them so they make sense, whether that be streamlining messaging or a complex process. I see the big picture and follow all the pipes through their knots and see where we can move the fewest pieces to fix what’s broken. I enjoy solving problems like this. Building systems.

I do not enjoy executing on said systems or taking projects across the finish line. I get things going. I step in and see what can be optimized. Lack of logic, failure to appreciate efficiencies, and the worst–internal politics and recognition for perception over performance–are what gut me the most. Reward for following broken processes vs a culture hungry to always do better. To solve real problems versus do what it takes to look like you’ve got things in order. Fixing the foundation instead of swimming in quicksand and dragging everyone in with you.

It really hurts that I was not put on the new leadership team in my group. I’m not surprised. I sometimes talk even more than I think. But I’m not valued for what I do best. I’ve been demoted to a role where I primarily am a project manager, which is just about my weakest skill. I’m trying to see this as a positive — a year of getting better where I can really use time to improve. It’s ok. I like being able to focus on this and figure out how to be a better communicator and get super organized with project plans and such. It’s painful for me, but necessary to learn how to do this better.

I try not to think about how I’m not in the leadership group that is clearly focused on strategy and direction. I’ve gone from trusted advisor to my group’s VP to someone she would rather never talk to. Yes, it’s that bad. No, I’m not imagining things. I don’t think she hates me, per se, but she doesn’t see me as supporting her own goals right now outside of maybe a few projects I’ve put out that have gotten enough recognition for the team. But does she value my ideas and strategic vision for anything? Clearly not.

In exploring some ideas this morning, I thought for a moment if there might be anyway I could regain her trust and move back up the ladder. But… it’s impossible. The only way to move up in this organization would be to leave my department entirely. I’m stuck. I can do amazing work the whole next year and it will get me nowhere (though worth doing to keep my stock at the moment and focus on this project management and communication skillset I so desperately need to improve on.) But it hurts. It’s not like we’re a giant team and only a few people are in this leadership group. It’s pretty clear I’m not in it when I should be in it, if I hadn’t screwed up so badly. If I hadn’t gotten myself into a situation where my boss probably has had multiple meetings with HR on the best and safest timing to fire me.

Sigh.

I’m trying to just focus on reminding myself that I am good at some things. I think this is just the wrong job for me, and probably the wrong department. I have no idea how to chang ecareers right now but in a year… if somehow miraculously we can get close to the 3M networth mark, well, then maybe I can really explore this. Go back to school. Try something new. Take a risk. Take some time. Stop feeling like the scapegoat of my organization which just makes me perform worse.

Since I can’t compete with the polished professionals who thrive in corporate culture and manage to put off the impression they never make mistakes (and get really mad at you when you do), I need to find a career and environment that encourages people to collaborate and fail forward and be themselves. That isn’t here. I know that will never be here.  I thought, for a while, my unique viewpoint was valued. I felt happiest when my boss asked me to review something she was working on and provide input. Then that stopped. I’ve been banned. Blacklisted. Relegated to the bottom of a very short totem pole that is top heavy. And I’m trying to avoid jealously because it’s useless and really I know I did this to myself. If only I hit deadlines this year… even if my work wasn’t as good… I’d probably still be clinging on to my previous role vs, well, whatever this is. This limbo of title-less existence. Being forgotten and either purposefully forced out or given the “we hope you leave” treatment so eventually I do. Well, I’m sad about it. It is what it is. But either I am good at what I do and I’m undervalued or I suck at what I do and I desperately need to find something else TO do as I’ve got 30 some-odd years left of work to go and while this is definitely work it sure isn’t working.

I don’t know anymore.

This morning, like many mornings, I woke up excited about my job. I had finished a small project with high visibility, hit a pretty unrealistic deadline, and the quality of the output was actually strong. By noon, I was a mess of tears, after getting scolded for sharing the project too early, not communicating properly, and failing on many levels. The thousandth time I broke down in tears this week.

I can’t win. I really can’t. I know communication and project management is not my forte. But I feel like no matter how hard I try I ALWAYS mess up. No one cares about the quality of my work. As my coworker friend told me—I put out products that are consistently great. I care about the quality of work I put out. But our company doesn’t value that. They are about perception and quantity and speed. And the people who can look like they are on top of things get ahead. No one cares about the actual work quality. Although they seem to get caught up in random details and hack apart your work until your confidence is entirely gone.

It’s really not a good situation right now. But I have 12-15 more months in pure survival mode and then I can focus on a significant transition. These last few weeks of emotional roller coaster before I am out for a few months. Coming back and not over committing and hoping they forget I exist long enough.  Then what? I don’t know. I’m unsure I can get through next year. I just want to feel like my work is appreciated. I know I’ll never be seen as a valuable employee. To the head of the department, he will always see me as the small company employee who has no pedigree. My value is no longer valued. We can attract better talent now. Every time I do something half decent I’m told why it is definitely more than half horrible.

I just don’t know what I am good at. I am tired of jobs where I’m hired to do too many different things. I burn out too fast. But if I do just one thing, what is that one thing? Why am I not allowed to hire a team — and instead am left to fail on my own? Why is it the guy who is stepping into my former role was handed a strong agency to support him, and told he would get a headcount? I get why people trust him (he comes across as super confident) but how can I succeed when I’m put into another role where I’m not given resources or support to succeed. Or maybe that is the point. Maybe they want me to fail. Or don’t care. They don’t have time to deal with me either way. Meanwhile they are asking my coworker what they can do to make him want to stay. They treat him like royalty and me like horse manure. Yes he has done some great work, but is mine that bad compared to what he has put out? He just sounds better when he talks. I sound like 2 seconds after a train wreck.

Someone commented on my blog that I should leave Silicon Valley. Yes, I should. I feel stuck. I don’t want to leave and I have been fighting it as this place has been my home now for 15+ years. And my husband grew up here. But I no longer feel like I want to stay here. I no longer feel like it’s worth this insanity. I want to spend time with my kids. Have a nice house for, I don’t know, $600k, with enough money to travel and enjoy life. Our networth is basically $2M right now and all I can do is think about how I’m going to be the scapegoat employee for the rest of my life just to pay the mortgage. Why?

I started talking to my husband about moving in a few years. He doesn’t want to, but also the idea of early retirement is appealing to him. And early retirement, esp in another year or two, is very possible for us. I think with $3M (including home value after sale) we could buy a $600k house somewhere else, work flexible jobs, travel, enjoy life, do what matters. He is intrigued. I worry about moving somewhere new with kids. I know people do it, but it will be hard for us. I don’t have many friends but I have a few here. I worry about starting over.

I don’t know what it will take to convince my husband we need to leave. I don’t seem to have much of a say in it—despite being the breadwinner. I don’t know where I want to move anyway. And we just bought a house! — but I’m really over it all. Covid is yet another reminder how short life is. I never thought I’d be looking at a family networth of $2M but here we are. It feels hollow—nothing to celebrate. It is incredible and I’m grateful—but who cares?

I want more than whatever this is. I’m tired and stuck. In a year, I need to find something better here, or GTFO.

44 Days Left Until Baby 2; 14 Days Until Maternity Leave; -2 Days Since I Changed OBs and Fought My Diagnosis

Time this year is all sorts of wonk. I don’t know what’s up or down anymore, but I do know some medical events of the last week have been a bit of a wake up call for me that money isn’t everything and I need to take my health — physical AND mental – seriously.

When I got pregnant, I was aiming for a Feb baby. It’s silly but when you go on maternity leave (at least in my state) you get paid less than full salary (and lose out on some benefits) so it is extra frustrating to go out during a time period with a lot of paid holidays. The worst is going out over Christmas as my company gives a full week of paid time off then. The best time to be out, assuming 3-4 months out, is Feb-May. You still miss a few paid holidays, but it’s not that bad. And you also come back to work right before summer which is usually a bit slower and even if not people tend to be in better spirits and it’s not like returning at the start of the year when things are extra stressful.

But, alas, I got pregnant somehow on my first try, and I studied the calendar to determine that my 4 weeks of optional disability leave before my due date ran over the Christmas break week . But then I figured out the timing actually worked out where I could go out at Christmas and take the paid week off and then immediately go on disability.

For the record (and new readers) with my first kid I was stubborn and worked up until my due date. This may have contributed to having high blood pressure at the end, which led to an induction, which led to a bunch of other interventions which maybe is what led to my son having to spend 36 hours in the NICU. We aren’t certain what caused what, but it was a quite traumatic labor and when I set out to get pregnant again I told myself I won’t be stupid and I’ll go out on leave as early as I can even if it means losing some pay and other benefits.

Then came COVID. And work from home. And analyzing the losses of going out on leave early (a few thousand dollars.) And planning to work until my due date again. It felt odd to go out on disability early when I was literally working from my bed anyway. What would people think? I care too much about that, but mostly I care about losing my ESPP contributions when on disability leave, which are worth about $1000 pre tax a week after you remove the cost I put in to buy them. And the first week of disability is entirely unpaid, but that will happen no matter when I take it.

The thing is next year will either be so incredibly lucrative for me that losing a few thou won’t be noticed… or I will come back from having kid 2 and be such a mental case I can’t hold down my job for the year ahead and I’m fired by summer. Luckily I do still vest RSU when I am out, which is a godsend, so even with a summer axing I’ll be fine. It will be devastating given if I can just hold on one more year I will significantly shift my FIRE date sooner and I’m basically holding a lotto ticket for dear life as a train going a zillion miles is passing before my face… so… it’s hard to plan anything. I just need to plan the stay healthy.  That is the best I can do.

Speaking of do, I’m due in 44 days. Which is not a lot of days. Especially if you consider this week my (now former) doctor wanted to induce me in 20. Why? Well, let me tell you, maternal care is a mess because there just isn’t enough research and data to support serious recommendations. Some doctors are too conservative. Others, many, ignore women who have symptoms of serious complications until it’s too late. I have to say I’m glad my doctor errs towards conservative, but I was extremely frustrated by her too conservative recommendations based on data that in itself was faulty. Let me explain.

High blood pressure in pregnancy is no joke. Women die everyday from complications related to blood pressure rising out of no where. Babies die. Seeing high blood pressure readings should be taken seriously by doctors and patients alike.

But. One has to then consider how these readings are gathered and the accuracy of these readings before making a very serious diagnosis that impacts the course of your care — and your due date.

BP readings are notoriously inaccurate. That is why doctors often take 2-3, to determine if one read was influenced by how you were breathing or sitting or anything else. The diagnosis criteria for gestational hypertension is two reads of 140/90 at least 4 hours apart. In my case, at an in office appointment in Oct, my first read was 148/75. Scary. They took it again and it came down substantially. No one said anything to me like — oh, if you get one more high read like this we will induce you early. The only thing they said is that my second read was good, and not to worry about it. Ok.

Now, to get an accurate BP reading, I’ve since leaned (thanks internet) one is supposed to sit still in a chair for 5 minutes before the reading is taken. No where could I find how wearing a mask in an enclosed windowless space might impact the BP read of someone with a history of anxiety and claustrophobia, but I digress. I question the accuracy of that first read. If it was real, it’s quite scary. If it isn’t, well, it’s meaningless.

Fast forward 4 weeks. Due to covid my 32 week checkup is virtual. The nurse calls me and while on the phone with me has me take my BP at home. I’m not thinking while I do this… I walk quickly to the chair by the home machine after taking my weight, sit down with my back not supported, barely breathing, clenching my phone in my fist, muttering some comments as I begin to take the read. I wasn’t concerned as I had just taking it 3 times a few hours earlier and it was fine. So as I read the numbers… 142/90… out loud… I said to myself, that’s kind of high…

I asked if I could take it again. It came down. (Then later my husband, who purchased the machine, determined he could change his own BP read by 15 points based on the tightness of the cuff!)

But none of that mattered. The moment my OB got on the phone, she tells me she is diagnosing me with gestational hypertension and I will be induced at 37 weeks. What? I ask, shocked. I feel fine. I am pretty sure my home machine gave me an inaccurate read. As she explains he logic to me, the more frustrated I grow in her not requesting for me to come in to at least check the second read in office before scheduling an induction 3 weeks before my due date!!!

I requested an in office check and labs. She scheduled me for an NST and fluid scan that I agreed to and surprise surprise, every test I took came back clear. At the office, my BP was 127/70. While I may end up with high BP in this pregnancy and am higher risk for it due to being overweight and geriatric (pregnancy wise), there is no reason to induce at 37 weeks without two accurate high readings.

So I switched doctors. She agreed with me 100%. Said why take a second reading if you aren’t going to use it!

My first doc wanted to put me out on disability immediately. I politely declined. That would be 2 weeks of lower pay and a week I’d be out anyway with full pay lost entirely. And without time to properly transition, I would still be answering work emails and doing work-without getting paid for it. Instead, I decided to compromise. I’d go out on leave Jan 4 as initially planned. With work being super stressful and just sad lately, I have no desire to work a day longer at this point.

Regarding work, I understand why I was kicked out of my role, but the way it was and continues to be handled is one kick to the ego after another. My work friend, who will be promoted into the position I had (officially, once I go on mat leave) is good at what he does — but like most men is overconfident. That works for him at this company, because confidence and clarity are by far the most valuable leadership traits, whereas output matters little. It is good for him to have this opportunity — and as I told him if anyone else was stepping into this role I’d be pissed but I’m genuinely happy for him (I am) so it all works out. Sort of. I have a new role which is still stressful and ill defined, but it’s a bit less visible. I went from a position where I was seen as a strategic leader to one where i am more or less a project manager. Does it hurt? You bet. But I have an end date in mind and stock to collect and a baby to push out. I know my new boss won’t keep me forever. I’m hopeful I have a few months after I come back from maternity leave to find my footing before anyone considers asking me to pack my virtual boxes and get out. It seems this might be achievable.

And I may still have this baby early. In 2 weeks? In 2 days? Baby could decide to come early on its own. We officially move Dec 21 (as in hired movers are moving our stuff to our house then) so I’m hoping not before that. Or before Chanukah and Christmas. I would like to make it through the month with baby still cooking. That would be wonderful. Then come Jan any day can be a maybe baby day.

And then? Well, then I’ll be mom of 2 at 37. A homeowner. Not yet a minivan owner but that’s happening soon as well. I’ll be well on my way to 40 and maybe no more kids or maybe one more kid. I’ll be fully engaged in this next phase of my life – mid life, I guess – and trying to make sense of it. After my scary self-diagnosed bipolar manic episode in late 2019, I am hoping I’m now stable. I look at who I was those few months and feel so detached from that person. So embarrassed and ashamed of her. But maybe that was my last hurrah. Maybe that was my inner crazy child dying but not giving in to her mortality without putting up one last fight. I don’t know what it was. But I feel different now. Depressed, maybe. In a mellow way. I guess that’s what having nearly $2M in networth does to a person. I am spending too much these days but I feel a little bit more stable. If I am an just get through next year, just get to $2.5M by 1/1/2022 (or close to that), I can calm down a bit more. I want to be able to not worry about every dollar earned or not. To be able to take a job I’m good at — one where my work is valued as appreciated, vs considered acceptable largely due to pity. I need to find that job – that career. And it may not pay well. But I want to have enough saved where that doesn’t matter. Maybe I can make it happen. The next year will answer if I can. Or at least if I can try.

A Bruised Ego and Preparing to Move On

I wasn’t a good fit for the role. Not in an environment where my boss wants someone who leads by being aggressive and confident to the point no one else’s ideas matter. I don’t want that job anyway. My idea of leadership is meeting with different team members, understanding their needs, solving their problems. Maybe I didn’t do that well either, but I will never be the kind of leader she wants so it makes perfect sense she has replaced me with my coworker.

Is my ego bruised? Of course. It’s painful to fail. It’s painful to look back and think — “If only I…” which in this case is pretty much if only I focused on not fixing things in the weeds and building an engine but instead just focused on producing high impact stuff that got noticed then maybe I would still have my job/title. I’d still be struggling, though. My best bet is to take my learnings here and apply them elsewhere. The timing is bad to do that though, and for all of the bruised ego and feeling like despite doing some good work this year no one has noticed or cared, I have to say I am ridiculously fortunate to be in a place where I am about to be able to step away from work for a few months, have a kid, reset, and come back to a new role that clearly isn’t my “forever role” but one that I can likely hold onto for the rest of the year — if I can manage being shot in the gut daily with reminders of both my failure and how my overly confident work friend is basically going to leverage the engine I built (and got no credit for) to be hugely successful. If he maybe would make an effort to recognize this publicly it would feel a bit better but he won’t. And I have to bite my tongue and smile and pretend I’m ok with how everything has been handled, which I’m clearly not, but what does it matter?

I wish I was in a position to succeed with the new role, but it’s already a mess. I realized I need to basically—at all times—focus on “the next 30 days.” That is, in a marathon, or war zone for that matter, you can’t think that far out. So I have 30 days to survive and then another 30. I can plan a bit for the future but primarily I need to be heads down for these mini sprint battles. I need to give them no reason whatsoever to say I didn’t achieve my commitments. I need to deliver quality work but more importantly I need to deliver work on time. As I watch my friend build his empire and try to not be too jealous. Because at the end of the day he deserves the opportunity to grow in his career and even if I held onto the role for dear life it was never going to be a fit for me. Neither is “this” job, but I think from a pure survival mindset “this” job allows me to get through the next year, put out some decent work, and prepare to move on. It’s really a blessing in disguise. I need to focus on gratitude and not all of the other shit. So my coworker is basically taking the woman I hired and the system I built to make his plans successful without giving me any credit (though he has told me as much.) Why do I care? Should I care?

What hurts most is going from being a strategic leader on my team to being kept out of all planning. I don’t understand why I can’t be involved at all. I mean, I do — my boss clearly doesn’t like my ideas and thinks I would overcomplicate things — but this whole transition is so horribly unprofessional and petty I can’t help but be hurt a little. I’m sure in her mind she’s thinking I’m damn lucky to still have a job (true) but things like how I still don’t have a new job title (hasn’t even been mentioned) while my coworker is clearly getting promoted into my current title doesn’t sit well. I’m planning to not ask and just keep my title on public channels for as long as possible. It will help immensely when looking for a new job.

Now, I know my long-time readers think that it’s probably all me… and a lot of it is… but I often end up with bosses who don’t jive with how I work. I respect my boss for her ability to function like a machine and get lots of power and not care about people or what makes sense much so she can focus on the business stuff that matters and will help her survive and continue to move up. She is a beast. And I say that in a good way. Really. But I don’t like working for people like her. I like working for people who are inspiring and collaborative and who want to work together to achieve common goals. I hope to find that in my next role. Whatever that is. Whenever that is.

There is a slightly but growing possibility that I may make pre tax 700-900k next year. Which is absolutely insane. Now, I know you are thinking holy hell shut up and do you work whatever they ask of you even if that means standing on your head in a vat of horse shit for hours at a time. And, hey, I’m with you. Before this job the most I made was 190. Which is nothing to shake a stick at salary wise, but I never dreamed I would make 700k+, let alone in one year. Even after tax it’s an impressive number.

Knowing I am making that, possibly, I understand the not-so-nice behavior of my colleagues, esp those in more senior roles who are likely looking at 2M+ in one year. We are all in the boat of tight golden handcuffs. The difference between everyone else and me is that I want out, so while part of me is sad I’m not looking at $700k+ total comp in perpetuity, another part of me is ridiculously grateful that after bonus season in 2022 I won’t have a strong compelling reason to stay. I figured at that point I need to find a job that has at least 250-300 total comp to be equal (and less the following year as I vest the last of my early grants) — still a lot, but at that point, if I’ve really saved 300k+ after tax and after expenses this year, I feel like it’s a good time to take a step back, make a little less, and find a job that isn’t destroying my sanity for once. If such a job exists. This company and (past) role on my resume will likely open a fuck ton of doors that weren’t available to me years ago. I’m lucky. I’m in a good spot. I need to be happy for my friend who is moving up in his career, happy that it worked out (as planned) that I am somewhat protected for a few months through maternity leave towards my final vest date (even though I could get caught up in a mass layoff and that may happen and would be sad), happy that my boss sees value in this one area I’ve done well in, where I can “live out my dying days” making stuff people will probably like enough to not immediately fire me.

So. Yeay. Woohoo. I did it. Or I’m close to doing it. I’m 60 days (or less) and counting to maternity leave. I’m remodeling a bathroom. I’m hoping I don’t get COVID in the hospital. I’m staring at our nation’s leadership in bewildered terror that our president is trying to kill democracy, and he has his followers convinced the election  was a sham while presenting absolutely no proof of fraud. There are a lot of big problems going on in the world right now. People out of work. People going hungry. All my little petty shit above is nothing compared to what’s going on right now. I’m in a little stressful bubble but boy does that bubble pay well—and I keep reminding myself even if I make it through just half of next year, my earnings will be substantial, and I can take some time off and figure out what’s next. As long as I make it to mat leave I’m in a really good place. If I make it to end of next year, a really, really good place.

As my blog title notes — money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy freedom. It’s so true. Life is short. I don’t want to spend life constantly worried about paying for the basics. I like working. I want to work. But I want to do work that is meaningful. That I am proud of. That I wake up in the morning excited about. I hope I can find that. I know all jobs and careers  have these issues. But this one, after 15 years in it, is clearly not the right fit, despite how shockingly lucrative it has become.

Needless to say, if I make it to the end of the next year, I owe you all a drink.