Thinking Inside the Box: The Road Trip

I think we can all agree that one of the most stressful things about moving is finding a new place to live. When looking for an apartment you have to start scouting out neighborhoods, finding out availabilities, planning visits, and making sure that those three felonies and five misdemeanors (alleged, not proven) don't come up during the conversation.

I imagine that buying a house is even more complicated with the added pressure of getting a mortgage (let's spin the wheel of credit and see where you come up…) and taking care of all the closing paperwork and redecorating.

At any rate, a few weeks ago my wife started the laborious process of finding us someplace to call home. After lots of web searches, phone calls, friend cajoling and shaman consulting we scheduled a day last week to go out and look at five different properties. Of course that means it's time for a road trip.

The first leg of our trip was pretty normal as we left home and passed through familiar towns we had known growing up. All that changed however, once we got east of Columbus, OH. Now then, not to offend anyone out there who grew up in Eastern Ohio, but I really don't know how you did it. Long swaths of nothing stretched for miles in every direction, and my wife started salivating at the mere prospect of seeing a town the same way a dog gets excited when he knows he's getting close to the park. Whenever we would pass a few buildings and a sign she would whip out her cell phone and start snapping pictures like crazy, just as a reminder that there were people out here, we just hadn't seen any of them yet.

We eventually stopped for gas and food in a town where everyone seemed to know everyone else, making us stick out all the more readily. I may as well have been wearing a t-shirt that said "We're not from around here." Actually, I was, but I'm sure that didn't have anything to do with the stares. To top off the pit stop, the men's room at the restaurant was out of order, so I was faced with a decision; do I swallow my male pride and go to the ladies' room, or do I clamp down my bladder and try and hold out for another three hours? I decided to suck it up and go ahead to the ladies' room because there are few things more shameful in all of mandom than stopping a road trip just to use the bathroom. You better be getting gas, food, or be on fire before that car pulls over. Besides, I reasoned that since the men's room was out of order the other bathroom was now unisex, so I was in no danger of having my man card revoked.

As we continued our journey we quickly discovered that the route we had chosen featured a whole lot of nothing. Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and Western Maryland all featured about the same landscape as Eastern Ohio, and I had begun to wonder what I had gotten myself into. Thankfully, as we neared Washington, DC signs of life sprung up and I was shaken from my fear of driving off the edge of the world and falling onto the turtle that holds the whole thing up.

After a night of greasy takeout and restless sleep we were ready to find ourselves a place to live. We had scheduled five appointments, but only needed two to know we had found the perfect place. We had spent 10 hours on the road, and now we had decided where to live in 45 minutes. In a way I felt cheated. A part of me wanted to demand we look at the other places or at least make our new property manager take us on a sightseeing tour of the area so that driving all this way for such a short meeting and decision wouldn't feel like a waste. But hey, now when we show up we'll actually have a place to put our stuff, so I guess I can't complain.

Since we finished early we finished early we decided to just go ahead and drive home that same day. This is when we learned the most important lesson of the whole trip… ass grooves are the most powerful forces in a car. You see, we took my car and I had driven the entire way out. We decided to switch places on the way back so I could rest for a bit and my wife could not be bored to death staring at the same cornfields and billboards as she had seen on the way there. She knew exactly which exits housed the best fireworks outlet stores, but I was completely ignorant to the fact, a wrong which must be remedied.

However, things didn't go as planned. When we traded seats neither one of us could get comfortable, and it was so bad for her that one of her legs started to fall asleep. After just a couple hours we switched back, and instantly we were each fine again. We attributed this to the fact that since our posteriors differ so much in size, shape, and density that our respective seats have become so in tune with our own rumps that they will simply reject that of another. It is a symbiotic relationship, one which cannot be undone through sheer force of will.

We made one last stop on the way home at a hillbilly gas station where my wife refused to get out of the car or even unlock her door. While I found the place to be a wonderful mecca of all things redneck (where else can you find gas, beer, chewing tobacco, and bait all under one roof?) she feared that if she came out of the car she'd be kidnapped and turned into someone's mountain wife. Her fears were confirmed when a gentlemen no less than 70 years old decided it was just "too dern hot" and took off his shirt. I bid the gentle hilljacks farewell and we continued on our merry way, vowing to never again stop at a town where the first thing you see from the freeway ramp is a feed lot.

The most foreboding part of the whole process was that we're going to have to make the same trip again next weekend. This time though, we're only going one way, and I already know the two most important rules of the road; there's no shame in creating your own unisex bathroom, and car seats are not one size fits all.

Why I Won't Regret Blogging Ten Years Later

My favorite part about blogging is conversing with the naysayers. Even the rude ones totally make my day. Because as soon as they start cursing, I know I've hit a topic that's worth talking about.

With that said, there is a certain breed of haters out there that I could really do without – the ones that think age and experience always trump a solid, well thought opinion.

I think that most Gen-Y bloggers know what I'm talking about. In some fashion we've all been sized up based on years spent in the real world. And it usually leads to a comment that goes something like this:

In 10 years you'll regret saying that.

Sure, in 10 years I'll regret a lot of things. But what I won't regret is making my voice heard as a young professional. Especially when there are tons of others out there just like me without the resources to do the same.

Will my perspective change within the next 10 years? Yes. Will I regret that I ever opened my mouth in the first place? No. If your argument is that a company might not hire me for something I said back when I was 24 years old, you may have a pretty good case. But there's an equally good chance that a company does hire me because I challenged the norm. And that's the type of company Generation Y wants to work for anyway.

What a lot of people don't realize about blogging is it's okay to be wrong. And while it's important to check your facts, you don't need to be an expert to state an opinion. That's the beauty of blogging. When I started blogging over a year ago, I would have never guessed that I would experience hardcore resistance. And in most instances, it's been a pleasant surprise.

So if you're going to be an active presence in the blogosphere, wear your boxing gloves. A few blows to your ego are definitely game. But there's one more important thing that you have to be ready to do.

Accept the New Authority

Social media has changed the way we give and receive information. News and opinion is no longer just being spoon fed to everyone by media moguls—it's being created and duplicated and passed around by everyday people. Think of it more like a buffet. But if the buffet makes you nauseous, you're more than welcome to order from the regular, everyday menu.

Challenging a blogger by asking where he gets his authority is pointless—you won't likely find a list of credentials. Instead, size him up by checking out who is reading, linking, subscribing and commenting on his blog. Besides gaining trust, that's the only basis of authority in the blogosphere.

What it all boils down to is the realization that you can't evaluate a person in the blogosphere the same way that you would in the corporate world. Age is meaningless and the only titles we have are the ones we give ourselves for the sake of it. And still, people stop by and read.

Granted, as a young professional, sometimes I do need a good reality check. And I'm happy when it's given to me.

As long as it's done with an opposing opinion in mind, not my lack of experience or age, I'm willing to take a few jabs. I learn something about myself from every insightful adversary I have. But the ones who question authority, ability, and intellect based on old-school ideas about what makes someone credible are weak and useless to me.

It's Alright to be an Introvert

I love the Myers Briggs test. We have a little bit of an obsession with it here at Brazen Careerist. We often ask potential hires for their Myers Briggs score even before we ask for a resume. So it was only appropriate that we had Rob Toomey of Speed Reading People come to Madison last week for an all-day course on the art of reading personality types.

Rob teaches you how to differentiate between personality types by simply observing or talking with people. You also learn how best to interact with each different type of personality.

The course was amazing. I learned a ton about my particular personality type, my co-workers' personalities and people in general. But the most interesting thing I learned is that I am definitely an introvert. And that's OK.

We live in a culture that encourages and admires extroverted people. My family is no exception; both of my parents are clearly outgoing extroverts. Because of this, since childhood I've felt pressured to be chirpy, social and generally outgoing. Over time I've learned to be all of these things. In college I was the social director for my fraternity, and I've now built a career around communicating with people both through speaking and writing.

But the truth is, no matter how many times I speak in front of a group or go to a networking event, I'm always anxious beforehand, and I'm always completely zapped of energy when it's over. I never understood it, you would think at some point it would just be second nature and the nerves would go away. Now I understand that these feelings probably aren't going to go away because I am an introvert at heart.

The book "The Art of Speed Reading People," says that despite what people may think when they hear extrovert or introvert, the only difference lies in where people get their energy and where they direct their energy.

"Extraverts both get energy from and focus energy toward people and things outside of themselves….Introverts tune their radar to an internal frequency because they are more interested in applying their own perceptions and experience to a situation rather than looking outside of themselves for the answer."

This makes so much sense, and it really explains why an introverted person like me can be social and outgoing. The only difference between me and an extrovert is that I become energized when I spend time alone doing something like jogging, while an extrovert becomes energized when he is with a group of people having a discussion.

This was just a tiny portion of the course, and being an introvert is only ¼ of my entire personality type (if you're curious, I'm an INTJ). But now when I tell someone I'm an introvert and they respond, "no way, you're definitely an extrovert," I can intelligently explain the difference and be proud of the fact that I'm an introvert at heart who happens to enjoy spending time with people.

Go take the test. And whatever you test as, it's probably not going to change. So no matter personality type you are, embrace it and learn how to use it to your advantage so you can effectively interact with anyone.

Get The Rest of Your Life Back—Toss the Tech Tools

As a web entrepreneur, I think about the time I spend in front of a computer constantly. How much is too much? And when should I call it quits to enjoy what I love so much more – real social interaction?

Becoming absorbed by technology is inevitable in most business environments. From the Fortune 500 to local Mom and Pops, everyone is trying to do their work faster and cheaper. And of course, technology is the easy answer.

Unfortunately, overuse of technology has its side effects. Even if you see these effects as minimal, just ignoring them is irresponsible. Here's why.

Health Risks

A couple weeks ago, The New York Times published an article citing recent tragedies related to the overuse of technology. Two bloggers recently passed away. And another blogger, Om Malik, of GigaOM fame, suffered (but survived) a heart attack last December.

There's no proof that these tragedies were in any way directly related to their work, but it really makes me think. What kind of physical toll is an all-day-all-night laptop binge having on my body? As if binge drinking and secondhand smoke at the bar weren't enough.

As someone who interacts with most business connections online, I'm prone to sitting in a chair for way too long. So if you're like me, do yourself a favor and stand up.

I'm not going to be the guy who tells you to go to the gym and turn your life around. Just get up, walk around and get your blood flowing a little bit. It'll make a huge difference.

The Social Aspects of Work

Today I dropped by the post office. I walked in and instead of going up to a clerk at the front desk I was invited by one of the postal agents to try their new automated mailing technology.

A kind old lady showed me how to use the new technology. We joked about the crappy weather here in Madison and then I left with a smile on my face. It was great. But as I left, my mood shifted entirely. This lady was teaching me to interact with her replacement.

Before you get all depressed, I can certainly tell you that this lady was looking forward to her retirement. The point here is that there are these small, valuable things we take for granted, like meeting someone new every day. But when those things are replaced by technology, I can't see the world being a happier place.

Take a moment today and appreciate the people who serve you. Not that this will stop companies from trying to boost productivity, but at least it'll give you a chance to see what I'm talking about.

Our Own Mentality

Take mental health breaks every day. Me, I have my dog. I take him to the park, he runs around, I try to keep up, and then I go back to work. Your mental health break can be anything you want. Try riding a bike or something. I come up with great ideas when I ride my bike.

The idea is to get away from the technology that can make life more artificial, not get more consumed by it. And although surfing the web can be very stimulating, your brain needs balance.

My favorite example of this is doing redesigns on Brazen Careerist. By the end of the night, our minds are so fatigued, eyes completely glazed over, that we don't even speak to each other. I can't even answer a simple question without "Huh?"

Sure, these types of nights are the nature of our business, but only maybe every other week, at the most. Someone who lives this every day likely has some risky mental and physical health. Try something non-techy on a regular basis and get the rest of your life back that you've maybe forgotten about and shouldn't be missing.

Thinking Inside the Box: And So It Ends

Last Thursday was my last day on the job. It all felt so surreal, from waking up and making the short commute one last time, to taking down the pictures and decorations that had kept me sane over the past year (surprising how good fuzzy dice and a stuffed walrus can be for the soul). The whole day was rather odd; as no one could remember the last time someone had quit our department. That's not saying everyone who ever worked their loved their job and never wanted to do something else, but rather that all those who had departed in recent memory had been "asked to leave."

I get the feeling the same fate may have befallen me if I had stayed much longer. After all, you can only jump on the conference table and sing "It's Raining Men" so many times before people begin to worry that something may be off…especially if you're married.

So the morning was filled with awkward conversations and assorted well wishes. People squeezing a few seconds into their day to say goodbye to the young guy who was an amusing presence, but never quite fit in with the group because he was too ambitious. Oh well, a quick handshake and a few kind words and you can be off, free to forget that the fellow ever even occupied the cubicle.

After a couple hours it was time for the exit interview. I headed up to HR to figure out what the tax rate was going to be on my vacation hours (28 percent?!?! Really?!?! Did I just move up 3 tax brackets?), learn that my health insurance was terminated "as of today" (Here's hoping for now crippling illnesses or car accidents for the next few weeks), and that my retirement fund was forfeited (you have to work there 2 years to be "vested").

After all the technical stuff it was time for my feedback about the job. Now, if you've been reading this column for any number of weeks you probably already have a sense for how this went. I told the HR rep as politely as I could that you didn't really need a particularly trained person for my job, and that they would be just as well served hiring a slightly smarter than average chimp. You could pay him in bananas and tire swings, and he'd be the happiest little primate in all the land. I chose not to air my grievances about always managing to pick up the onion bagel at staff meetings, as I assumed that was my own bad luck rather than a vast company conspiracy. You never know though…

At lunch it was time for the big goodbye, orchestrated by one of my coworkers whose company I quite enjoyed while there. The email was sent out to all corners, letting the entire department know that this would be the last hurrah, a time to say farewell and reminisce about the good times.

There are 12 people in my old department, 2 of them came. I don't think any more needs to be said than that. Even my good friend, who had commiserated with me time and time again, and whose weekly lunch outings kept me from throwing calculators at passersby on particularly frustrating days couldn't make it. The good news was that some of those who couldn't come chipped in a dollar or two to help cover my lunch, so at least some people made a gesture. Unfortunately, the coworker who planned the lunch forgot the money back at the office. Oh well, seems like pretty much par for the course.

When we got back I started the laborious process of surviving the last few hours and packing up my stuff. The funny thing was, I only had one job-related knick-knack to throw in my box; the rest was all random clutter I had brought from home or picked up at gaming conventions. The sad truth was that my life had stood directly at odds with my job. The good news was, that was all about to change, and as I handed over my keys and security card I felt a strange sensation I hadn't felt in nearly a year.

Relief.

It was over, my time was served, and I was finally going home. I sit here now, happily unemployed, grinning from ear to ear amidst the boxes of clothes and clutter that I will be loading onto a truck in a couple weeks to take with me as my wife and I start a new life somewhere else. A new adventure is calling, and I know that if it hadn't been for my year of misery, I wouldn't be anywhere near as ready to launch into the unknown.

Get ready Washington, DC, because here I come.