Tag Archives: mentor

Jillian 18 – A New York State of Mind.

I know. Another travel thingy. But I can only report what the lovely Jillian tells me. And this is what I have for this week.

Not sure when this was but she was in New York for a week with a girlfriend and doing all the usual touristy exploring things including the 'hop-on / hop-off' bus and the theatres.

Cupla things were mentioned. Goes to 'People are the best things about anyplace' theory.

Jillian's friend fell over on a wonky ankle in the middle of the road down near the Wall St end of Manhattan island. She thinks it was near the 9/11 hole in the ground.

Going 'A over T' in the middle of any road in NYC can be very dangerous.

But people can be magnificent. Several immediately ran into the street braving the legendary New York traffic to help her up and onto the footpath. They were all so solicitous offering help and suggestions. One said some painkillers and a bit of bed rest, another said to bathe it in a VERY hot Epsom Salts mix.

Jillian opted for all of the above. They both agreed that this was a holiday not to be missed and a small thing like an ankle that couldn't be walked on, was not going to put them off.

Big Yellow TaxiSomeone waved down a taxi. A big yellow taxi, unfortunately no Joni Mitchell anywhere to be seen; and off they sped trying to find an open drug store to get some Epsom Salts. Not so easy.

Many were closed. It was after 5.00pm. And those that were open did not have the required product.

Finally the taxi driver found a place. Pain Killers, Epsom Salts, an additional pharmacist suggested jar of Arnica cream and a huge crepe/elastic wrapping bandage were purchased.

The driver refused any payment and THEN drove them back to their hotel 'The Iconic Broadway Plaza' in the flatiron district.

“I mean this is NY isn't it?” Jillian said. “How could this happen? They are supposed to be unfriendly, arrogant and generally weird? This is not what I expected.”

But there was more to come.

Theatres and shops and restaurants just had to be visited. Well why would you go to NYC and not do that?

But first – as promised, the hop-on, hop-off bus.

Hard to miss. Touts all over the streets have tickets for this historic double-decker bus which covers everything from Uptown to Brooklyn, saving you time and money.

Jillian and her friend found that flirting with the bus drivers was an excellent way to distract them from looking at and ripping off a section of the tickets. And, of course, drivers just lurved the accents.

On the bus there was so much more to see then the subway and it was much more fun. Except for the lack of the subway station hip-hop artists, but that is a story for another time.

Jillian and friend managed to use these buses to get all round the city without ever spending another dime. One ticket. Many trips. Now that is enterprising.

Next. After a show one evening they decided to walk home. They had been to The Eugene O'Neill Theatre on 49th St (You possibly remember 'The 59th Street Bridge Song'? But it wasn't as far north as that.)

After-all their hotel was located at the bustling corner of 27th Street and Broadway not all that far from the thriving theatre district located on Broadway between 42nd and 53rd Streets, known as 'The Great White Way'.

NYC is very easy to navigate as its roads, at least for Manhattan above Houston Street, are aligned on a grid based on the Commissioner's plan of 1811 which is comprised of 12 north-south avenues and 155 east-west streets. By the way - this is also explains why we have the SOHO area which is the part below Houston St Manhattan; (South Of Houston) an area of cramped and irregular streets. This was there long before the aforementioned GRID created in 1811 which area at that time was rural consisting of streams and hills populated by a patchwork of country estates, farms and small houses. History lesson over.

Our intrepid couple had to walk about 1 mile or approx 1.5km along some of the most interesting street-scapes in the whole world. Worth it for sure. As they approached 42nd Street – Times Square – the ankle pain dictated a rest. Deciding to stop at a place they had frequented once or twice already this trip and get a coffee, a sit-down and a Reuben Sandwich (a hot sandwich composed of corned beef, Swiss cheese, sauerkraut, and Russian dressing, grilled between slices of bread); they were dismayed to see the queue facing them but disappearing away from them to the south. A long way to the south. At least a cupla blocks. Approaching the shop doorway, they leaned forward and peered inside, past and in front of the people in the #1 spot.

At that moment a huge voice welled up from the dim and wonderfully aromatic interior of this - it now seemed completely impossible - haven.

“Hey Australia?” it called. (By the way New Yorkers think any accent not British, Asian or European MUST be Australian. In this case they may have been correct, but it could be a long bow). However, back to the story.

Jillian and friend leaned further into the restaurant and found the source. A very large and jovial man they had met before, was crying out and beckoning them in with such delight and energy that they could not resist; and moving past the probably now mile long line, they sauntered into the belly of the beast.

Later Jillian said it might have been her earlier mix-up with the look-alike money and a possible $100 tip that caused all the excitement; but at this moment they were just overwhelmed by the love that was being pumped their way.

Of course, the celebrity mad New Yorkers began gawking, gesticulating and conferring about who these obviously famous girls were. Must have been some very special people as they had just jumped a 2 mile long queue of equally important NYC denizens. And by invitation from within no less.

Not what you know; who you know. Or the size of your last tip.

What the hey?

#ourjillian

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Jillian 17 – Humour (Again)

I couldn’t laughing2let it go. Seemed like a metaphor for all that we have lost in our modern world. Humour; laughter; funny. What does it all mean? Why do we have laughing groups in almost every country in the world? What is  all about?

Babies and children seem to smile and laugh at many things and often. I don’t believe that it is always gas. What changed?

I began to question Jillian about specifics. Could she tell me about times when she had laughed? When she had found something funny? 

It’s all about the unexpected,” she said.

I know,” I replied. “We already discussed that last time. So give me some examples from your life.”

After a few moments she began, “I remember one time, when I came home from work. I was living in this absurd studio apartment [she did the finger quote thingy] which was really the old front sun room of a pretend stately home – I mean it was a biggish rectangular room probably about 6 metres wide and 12 – 15 metres long and all windows across the front so very cold in winter and hellish in summer. It had a very dark black hole of a closet in the back corner which had a toilet and bath/shower. And there was a bit of a bench contraption on one side wall which had a small cooktop and a camp oven kind of thing for cooking. Room for a small fridge and bugger all space for storage of food and other stuff. Really primitive. Quite possibly not approved for letting out as anything other than a rabbit hutch I reckon

To be truthful,” she reminisced, “I think that, in itself, was funny, but that’s not the joke. laughing1

I had a couple of newly married friends from overseas staying for a few days – less than a week – as they were on a backpacking tour and wanted to get by as cheaply as possible. They had visited me at work this day to see how the other half lived, and as we arrived home we found all my possessions and their stuff on the lawn in front of the ‘room – studio’ and a note from the landlord saying he didn’t want a load of hippies staying at his place. Gave it and him a bad reputation.” [Was that funny as well?]

The shock. But then we peered into the window at the outrageous room we had called home, and the pathetic amount and type of stuff on the lawn and burst out laughing. It was really very funny. 

Thank God; amongst the, what amounted to detritus on the lawn, was a bottle of rather indifferent red wine and a few cracked and stained coffee mugs. We laughed and the three of us drank until it started to get dark and we all realized at the same time – we needed somewhere to stay the night, and I had to go to work tomorrow like I still had a place to live. The ridiculousness of this started the laughing all over again. But we were now out of wine. And that, of course, was NOT a laughing matter.”

Does that qualify?” Jillian asked. 

laughingI stopped laughing long enough to tell her it certainly did. The image of all that junk she called – well whatever she called it – spread all over the lawn and the three of them drinking red wine amongst it all makes me laugh now as I write this.

What happened after that is a fish of a different kettle and we may hear more about it in a later episode.

#ourjillian

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Jillian 16 – Words

A while ago Jillian was telling me about a girl in her primary school when she was quite young. They had a reading class; she remembers they were sitting outside so it was a nice day, and this girl, Janice was her name, had trouble reading one particular word. It was very early in Jillian's reading journey. They were doing the usual books with the family stories that all kids could identify with (possibly not quite the same nowadays. just sayin').

Anyway, the family - in the book - were all together in the morning before dad went off to work and the older kid went to school and mum did the housework. They were having BREAKFAST. Janice kept reading that word as "breakfast fast". Jillian laughed at the memory. I thought about the stereotypes that this scene was forcing upon our kids at that time in our history.

But. It started me thinking about all the words that have different meanings now from when we were young. The words that have been made up over the last 40 or more years to cover situations that just didn't exist before.

(Here’s a challenge for you, my reader. Can you each come up with 3 words that have vastly different meanings now, from when they were first introduced into the English language? ‘Gay’ for example.

Also think about regional and country variations. Could be a fun exercise.)

The way we get words wrong that we read or stuff we say everyday intrigues me also. (Everythink, somethink are two Jillian still says, that come to mind straight away.) Actually that is quite funny really. A woman who is worried about the letter her name starts with but who hasn't managed to get her head/voice around the pronunciation of a couple of everyday words. Whatever!!

Someone's reading this over my shoulder as I am writing and saying to me. "Where's this going? What are you trying to say?"

"I'm not sure," I reply. But I keep going.

I think I'm just getting older, looking at the changes that have occurred around us, and wondering how we all managed to survive.

If we could all look at our lives in a time lapse video I think we would be VERY surprised. Patterns.

Some of our early childhood beliefs are still with us albeit in slightly different manifestations, some have morphed such that they are unrecognizable and some have only recently developed. If only we could go back and watch that happening. Our current mind-sets have been forged in the fires of our life experience.

But it all comes back to language. To words. What we say. What we mean. What we don't really mean, but say anyway. What we think and don't say. What we understand about what others say to us or about us.

We mostly think in words. The way our tiny computer-like brains manage the words we see on the page, the screen, or we hear from the incessant chatter of those around us, or the electronic media, is the basis for everything in our lives.

Change Words

So we need to be careful we are reading things correctly, listening and understanding, not making assumptions or brain jumps like Janice. Sometimes we need to listen to, or read what is NOT being said as well, but at that same time not making stuff mean something it doesn't. Sounds tough. We may not always have a teacher like Janice did to help us.

"Bloody hell," says the voice over my shoulder. "How wanky is all that?"

"Suck it up!" I say.

See what I mean? Words!

#ourjillian

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Jillian 15 – Humour

The other day I asked Jillian (it being the Comedy Festival in Melbourne where I live), what humour meant to her.

“Something that makes me laugh”, she quickly said.

“OK.” I passed the baton back to her. “What makes you laugh?”

Not unexpectedly she replied, “Something that is funny.”

There you have it. The perfectly circular argument.

“What is funny then” I asked thinking this in itself is a funny question. Or did I mean strange?

Again not unexpectedly, she replied, after a fairly long pause, “I guess I don’t really know.”

Must be tough to be a comedian. Pretty simple for a washing machine salesperson to figure out what his/her client wants. They all have clothes to wash. But a funny man? What makes a person laugh? They don’t know themselves. So how can you figure out what to say that is funny. WTF?

Anyway, after a few moments discussion, we figured we both like very similar things. We both find the unexpected funny. Words or situations that might have gone one way, but didn’t.  Stories where you can see the very obvious ending but the narrative takes a full 180 degree turn for the punch line.

"One of the situations that still makes me laugh: Jillian reminisced,  "is a Mother's day card I received from my quite young son one year. It was headed:  'To the beast mum in the  whole world.' Now that is what makes me laugh." she said giggling away all over again.

Jillian, like me, doesn't usually find racist or sexist ‘jokes’ funny. Religious comments and jokes about disabilities are usually not what either of us considers good content for comedy. That being said, we are both very big fans of Steady Eddie. He has cerebral palsy and has a whole show and several recordings of his comedy that centres around his inability do the the kind of stuff we all take for granted. One of his routines concerns an online airline booking where it seems the airline has placed him in an escape row seat so he can help others in an emergency. [Editor note] I think it is called Airports or something. His comments are hilarious.

Steady Eddy: https://www.facebook.com/guruofcomedy

So yeah, we both find self-deprecating humour funny. Makes us laugh. The deal with that is tricky, though. Is it being done purely for the unexpectedness or inappropriateness of the story, and therefore the funniness, or is it a cover for hurt and a cry for help? Who knows?

Adam Hills jokes about his missing foot. Ruby Wax talks a lot about her fights with mental illness and depression.

“One of the things that gets me,” said Jillian, “is the continued ranting and swearing. I mean I don’t have a problem with the words themselves, but I don’t understand what is funny about the word F$%^ all by itself. And I am not sure why many people seem to think anger is funny.”

“Yep. I agree.” I said. “Speaking of swearing, can you remember the Elliot Goblet joke?” I asked. And she knew what I was talking about right away. He is an Iconic Australian Comedian known for his one liners all delivered in his traditional deadpan style.

“This is a family show. I only say F$%^ once. <longish pause>. That was it.”

We both shouted it out together and fell about laughing. Now that was FUNNY.

You can check him out here on Facebook: www.facebook.com/elliot.goblet

Let me ask you, my readers, “What do you think is funny? What is humour to you? What makes you laugh?”

Send in some comments and let’s have a discussion on what is humour.

I think we need to talk more about this. Jillian must have seen some funny things in her life and therefore we will have some more on funny, humour, laughing etc next time?

#ourjillian

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Success Unlimited – Mithra Publishing

Well it has finally happened. I am a published author. The book for which I submitted a chapter has been published.

I am one of about 12 writers whose contribution made it into the final cut. The book is now available for purchase.

You can find out more about it and purchase a copy from the link below.

I am soo excited.
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Jillian 10 – Worst Travel Experience (Again)

"It doesn't really fit into best or worst categories," Jillian said once when we were talking about her travel experiences. Still? Yes, I know, but they are always interesting.

"There was once in Glasgow quite a few years ago, when I was staying with a friend of my mother's. It had been a long and harrowing journey from London's Euston station to Glasgow Central on the fast train. Can't remember what it's called. Perhaps The Flying Scotsman” she said. (Editor note: I think it was called Inter-City).

"Anyway. It was one of the new fully electric trains that had just introduced and it travelled, I think, at about 110 mph most of the way. It whipped through the stations like a tornado - the carriage rocked quite violently it seemed, and the noise of the wheels and the sound of the wind reflected back from the station buildings were very frightening. I wondered what would happen if we rocked so far that the platform or the roof would make contact with us and cause a catastrophic crash. Of course it hadn't happened so far and probably would never happen, but it was hellish scary."

"The trip took 5 hours but it seemed like forever." she said.

I sensed this was not the story. I was right.

"When I arrived, it was really embarrassing," she went on. "I was so exhausted, and it was getting latish, I could tell by all the half hidden yawns.”

“I think it was about 9.00 pm,” (she explained as an aside), “so I let them know I was ready for bed.”

A few friendly 'getting to know you' things happened. Including questions about what time I wanted to begin my exploring of Bearsden where they lived, and Glasgow in general, and what I wanted for breakfast.

BearsdenBearsden Coat of Arms lies on the northwestern fringe of Greater Glasgow, approximately 6 miles (10 km) from the City Centre, and is effectively a suburb, with housing development coinciding with the introduction of a railway line in 1863, and from where the town gets its name (Bearsden station was named after a nearby cottage). Wikipedia.

I said that since I was only going to be a few days I'd like to start quite early about 9.00am. And I mentioned that I thought a quick trip to Edinburgh might be a good idea. Shock horror, “That is so far away - on the other side of the country.” they said in unison, looking at me as if I had two heads. (It is actually about 60 miles or 70 km - just over an hour's journey by car and probably not much different by train). I gave that idea away. Pity, it would have been nice. But I didn't want to upset the hosts.

Next was the breakfast question. Easy answer.

"This," Jillian then said, "is where it became truly weird. I am in Scotland, right? Haggis and porridge? Yes? So not wanting to be a nuisance I said I'd just have porridge. I assumed that was the national breakfast.”

"MISTAKE. Big mistake.”

“I noticed a bit of activity outside the bedroom window as I crawled unwillingly from the warm bed on the rainy, cold morning that followed. My mother’s friend's husband (she couldn't remember names so this is a bit cryptic) was just pushing his bike back into the small lean-to thingy next to the very small and narrow cottage sort of structure in which they lived. See what I did there? Winston Churchill would be proud.

“They had NEVER eaten porridge, and, so as not to disappoint me, he had popped out to the early opening corner store to get some. Needless to say I was mortified.”

“And they didn't know how to make it either. It was horrible. But as I'd asked for it, I had to pretend I enjoyed it."

#ourjillian

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Jillian 9a – Worst Travel Experience … continued

For the start of these episodes go to http://career-change-strategies.com.au/jillian-1-meet-my-friend/

Wellington Airport.

Waiting at the antiquated and squealing, jerking baggage carousel. Finally it stopped. Nothing for Jillian.

Okaaaay.

What now?

It was then that it hit our friend Jillian. SHE HAD NOTHING. Her business clothes, fresh undies, toiletries, make-up, hair-brush the paperwork and stuff for her meetings, proper handbag - all was in that luggage. That luggage which she no longer appeared to be in possession of. I know, Churchill would not like that hanging preposition but bugger it - Jillian has lost her bag for God's sake.

Panic. She ran around frantically looking for someone, anyone to help her. Signs that existed were in English and Maori, but nothing appeared to help her figure out what to do.

Finally as she was close to breaking down here alone in Wellington, NZ on this fateful evening without anything, she began to cry. But she quickly decided that this was NOT the way for a business woman to act. With tears still clinging resolutely to her eyes she finally slowed down, and found a counter that was the most likely hiding place of those whose job it was to trace lost luggage.

"Nah. wasn't on the plane, Luv." said the helpful chap after asking someone on the other end of the old fashioned phone/intercom system, the same question phrased at least 4 different ways. Talk about the bleedin' obvious.

"So what do I do?" Jillian asked. "When is it likely to get here? What happens in the meantime?

"Dunno, Luv," he explained. Pause!

Obviously the answer to all 3 questions.

Jillian filled out a form. He had finally offered, "We'd better do a form, Miss"

He gave her a voucher for some airline stuff, soap tooth brush and the like - shit, yeah, she remembered that's in the bag too. Of course – it would be.

Then he added the clincher, "Since its after 5.00pm the airline counter is closed and you won't be able to redeem this until tomorrow. Sorry!"

“Sorry 'bout that.” he repeated unhelpfully.

“Shit, Shit. Shit.” Just another example of her shitty life, she thought. “Why doesn't stuff go right – just once would be OK? OK?”

Bet this wouldn't be happening to her boss Jack, she thought. Not bloody likely. “Why is it always me?” she wailed to herself.

Nothing open at the airport. Ironic isn't it. If she had know there was going to be no baggage as soon as she landed; shops would have been open and emergency supplies could have been obtained. Easily.

Outside, feeling completely naked with only her small clutch purse, an emergency touch-up lipstick and a credit card.

A taxi. Yep. That's the next step. Thinking. Thinking!

N.Z. still closes down in the evenings. The motel she was booked into was up in Lower Hutt. Quite  distance away.

Let's go.

Big mistake. The motel was staffed by a large bored woman with no interest in anything but the latest episode of “Close to Home”.

No emergency supplies. No help. No luck. Bad Day? No shit!

By this time the taxi had roared off.

“Was that a petrol station we passed just before the motel?” Jillian thought.

A short walk – thankful for small mercies – and YES a service station.

And finally a bit of luck. A small washing line and pegs. A traveller pack of soap, toothpaste, toothbrush and even some deodorant. Not much else. But how good is it to have something?

Back in the room taking stock.

A quick, but horrendously expensive international phone call later, Jillian had managed to let her boss know what had happened and asked if he could fax some brochures, prices and anything else he might be able to lay his hands on, that might be a help. He said he could. Another small win.

Freezing. Naked and attempting to wash her smalls with the bar of soap Jillian wondered if it could possibly get worse.

It could. And did.

Nothing was dry in the morning and as the soap had not been rinsed out thoroughly, the undies were wet, cold, stiff and VERY uncomfortable. It was cold and windy, no surprise, and she looked and felt utterly ridiculous in her summery Melbourne costume. And COSTUME was really the word. She felt like a clown.

There was something for her at reception, not the least of which was the staff and other  guests laughing at this amazingly stupid Australian woman in the green and gold.

Taxi to the office of the older, straight laced MD of the company considering doing business with an unknown Australian firm for the first time. One with a YOUNG female sales rep. What are they thinking?

Short ride. Reading through the info supplied, Jillian found it was extremely limited. No company info, hers or the prospects. “Guess we trust to memory”, she thought. Very basic, black and white brochure and a price list.

Great. “I wish I was dead!” she lamented to herself.

Well it turned out to be an OK meeting. They seemed to understand her predicament. Laughed, but she was beginning to expect that. She was so cold, thinking and speaking was a chore, but it was finally over.

The journey home in the big metal tube in the sky was as uneventful as it could be under the the circumstances, and the credit card took a BIG hit. The Big Sky Mall.

Booze, (Scotch, Gin and Red Wine), promotional rubbish including a jacket to cover the summer gear and a watch and camera she didn't need but the retail therapy helped. Yes it did. Pity there were no shoes.

Well probably a good thing there were no shoes.

The next day; back home. In her own apartment. Properly clothed, a little less mortified, and with a developing hangover, Jillian phoned her boss.

An order had been faxed through during the night and even though it was a small one, it made our Jillian smile. Maybe the chafed bits were worth it after-all.

That was about it, though, for orders from this company, and it kind of put an end to Jillian travelling for the rest of her time with this employer. Unfair. But that's the way it goes for a woman in a man's world.

As the ticket and accommodation had been purchased using her Amex card, Jillian was able to claim for all the lost stuff. Suitcase and all. A nice little win she thought. Bought some new clothes with the money. Sweet, Bro.

3 months later, her very badly battered bags arrived home. They had been to Hawaii and Los Angeles. Lucky them. “Even my bags have a better life than me.”

#ourjillian

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$50.00. Money for Jam. – Well not quite.

$50.00 for you all. That's each. Not to share. OMG. WTF?

However, nothing is for free.
I remember once I heard this explained as TANSTAAFL. "There Ain't No Such Thing As A Free Lunch". Great word to chuck into a conversation, isn't it?
Anyway. What is this all about?
I am offering, for the month of February 2015, $50.00 cash paid directly into your nominated bank account to anyone who refers a friend, colleague, family member or whatever to me and they purchase any coaching product.
Look, I'm feeling generous, let's make it $50.00 for a single paid session, then $75.00 if 3 sessions are purchased and paid for at the same time and $100.00 for my 6 session package.
There it is. Money for you. In your pocket.
Refer anyone. Anywhere. We can use Skype, phone, or face-to-face if they live in Melbourne.
No strings. No questions. Just great coaching.
The more you refer, the more cash you can earn.
All you need to do is refer them to the website and they can purchase there. No sales spiel. Nothing further.
Oh well, you need to message me their name so I can look out for the purchase and know it's from you. But that's not too onerous, is it?
An explanation of coaching can be found on the website.
Let me just say that any footy or ball team or any athlete worth their salt has a COACH. Not because they are crap (although some might be - Collingwood for Melbourne viewers), but because they want to be better. To win the cup this year.
Coaching is NOT always about fixing problems, it is more often about empowering and enabling a better future. 2015 is the year of living better than ever before.
Make a commitment to refer two people this month. Now GO!
That link again:
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Introduction

cropped-Career-Change-Strategies001k-bottom.jpg

 

Hi,

Here you will see interesting (I hope) stuff that I feel the need to publish from time to time.

Sometimes it will be for fun, occasionally it will be something I've learned that I would like to share, and every now and then an offer I would like you to consider. And some of these will be free.

Offers might be:

  • something I am doing myself -
  • seminar, workshop, e-Book, printed book, CD or DVD
  • product specials, free or paid
  • coaching opportunity (again free or paid or a special promotion) or
  • something from third parties. (I may have some financial interest in these - I may not. Depends.)

You might like to:

  • like my page on Face-book,
  • opt-in to my email list (this will give you a gift and some special offers no one else can see)
  • join my LinkedIn network
  • get involved with any of the other opportunities that are offered from time to time.

I hope you enjoy the stuff here and if you do - feel free to contact me, comment or share with friends.

Thank you for your interest,

Colin Rochford - Career Change Strategies

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Jillian 2 – Name

I asked Jillian why she still thought about her name and her birthday situations. I know they were a problem for her in the years at high school.

She said she didn't really care about them any-more; they were really not important now. I wondered?

“Besides”, she added, “They were small things”.

She went on to say, “The quote by Richard Carlson in his book 'Don't sweat the small stuff' which goes on to say – 'It's all small stuff' tells me to keep the little things in life from driving me crazy; and it's true. But some stuff does seem to be hard to totally remove from your subconscious. And it can pop up at any time, inopportune moments mostly.

“But,” she went on, “Jillian with a J does make my signature easier to write....”

“As for the other things,” she continued, “Sometimes it's easier to blame someone or something else.

“I know that's not right, but, ya know, it's not my fault. I didn't choose when to be born. How could I? But when I was a kid it seemed that something or someone else was always more important then me and my needs. I know I used to cry a lot.”

Deep stuff. You probably figure that as TMI (too much Information), but Jillian is really a cool person. If we are gunna do this we have to take everything. Only 100% game playing here.

Jillian works for a large multi-national company and is still (as far as I know) after all these years – enough to earn Long Service Leave – not in an executive role. I asked her about that.

#ourjillian

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