Gary Vaynerchuk, Expectations, and the Year of Chavi

I have about a million topics I'd love to write about, and, at some point, I will. It probably won't be any time soon because I'm essentially taking the next month off for family, travel, and more family. But after that? I'm hoping to have a completely clear picture of what I want.

Basically, here's what's happening:

• I'm pulling both kids out of daycare for the rest of the summer. They're home with me until August 21st full time. (I'm nuts!)
• When the kids go back to school, they're only in Monday, Wednesday, Friday, so they'll be home with me on Tuesday/Thursday, and I'm officially going to be a SAHM.
• I'm refocusing my professional world on writing, so I'll be submitting pitches, articles, and hoping to revitalize this blog to the glory it once was ... except it'll probably be a lot of "Holy Crap What Have I Done?" posts. 
• I'm giving up 90 percent of my social media jobs in order to focus on all the above items. Also? I'm pretty much over social media for business. It's a moving target with zero satisfaction 99 percent of the time. 
• I'm shutting my LuLaRoe business down in early August (unless some magical epiphany changes my mind). I've been doing it for a year now, and it hasn't made any money and I've fallen out of love with the business model and the hustle. I love a good hustle, but not this one, because it feels like I'm drowning most of the time. When I'm 100 percent in the thick of it, I am happy, but I can't be 100 percent in 100 percent of the time, and that's what the job requires.  So join the Facebook group and stay tuned for the GOOB sale. 
• We're going to turn the LuLaShed into a She Shed/Guest House, so come visit!

Whew. 

The small jobs I'm holding onto on a consistent basis are going to be a test on my nerves, but I'm holding onto them for good reason. Financially, we still need me to have a consistent monthly income of some variety, because even PT daycare is crazy, unbelievably, unnecessarily expensive. And I'm trying to really focus on the following to get through it all (and yes, I made this graphic):

You see, my problem, even as a contractor, is that I'm constantly disappointed in everyone around me. I have major expectations for everyone, except probably my kids. Oddly enough, my children are the two people in my life who I sort of look at and say, "Nah, they're good." Mr. T was trying to teach Asher how to catch a ball and he wasn't grasping it and I was like, "Whatever. He wants to just play and be goofy, let him." I don't expect Asher to be anything. I know he'll be something, and whatever that is will be awesome because he's such a uniquely unique kid. 

But my husband? I have a million expectations of him. I expect him to clean the dishes in the sink when they pile up because, come on, common sense, right? I expect him to throw laundry in when it's overflowing. I expect him to not leave clothes laying around on the floor. I expect him to put down his phone when the kids are whining and need attention. I expect a lot from him, and I'm always disappointed. This means tension and a lot of unhappy grumpy moments. 

My clients, too. I'm always disappointed in my clients. I have crazy and often ridiculous expectations of everyone. It's not because I'm a snob or holier-than-thou, it's because I believe in a hardcore work ethic and quality. I believe so hard in the hustle and producing amazing, quality work that is practically perfect. That's just how I'm wired. But because of this, I'm disappointed by everyone all the time, and it's probably why some people think I'm a jerk or a snob. Honestly, it's me, not you. 

I usually don't verbalize my disappointment because I know that other human beings are not like Chaviva the human being, so I truck along and often do more work or faster work or internalize all the anger/frustration/disappointment until I melt from the inside out. I take on all the things in order to do them right and in the best way possible, because I get to a point where I think, "No one can do this the way I know it should be done so that the world can accept, love, internalize, and be changed by it." 

Over the past several years, I've gotten better, slowly, but surely, at letting things go. At holding the "Not my circus, not my monkeys" philosophy. I've gotten better about stepping back from things and letting other people man the ticket booth and clean up the messes. It's hard, but I do it. I swallow my thoughts and disappointment and frustration and let it happen. It's hard. It's really, really hard for me. It's why I often work for free or for less than I should, because I know I can do it right, and I can do it quickly. 

But it's also resulted in people undervaluing my work, or not wanting to work with me at all. 

So I read this article by Gary Vaynerchuk, who I consider G-d's gift to people like me. He's at a point in his career where he can say quite literally anything with as many expletives as humanly possible and it's a punch to the gut and people love it. They want more of it. I see a lot of myself in him, but I'm a million years away from Gary Vee is, so I just borrow and internalize his wisdom. Relevant now:

It’s not about being disappointed that people can’t deliver. It’s not a cynical and negative point of view. I actually think it’s a very optimistic point of view. It speaks to my internal confidence and internal gratitude and empathy. Having zero expectations is a cognitive trait that has lead me to become more independent. I don’t need anything from anyone else. I’m not expecting anything. It’s just the way it’s always been. As I get into my early forties I can clearly see it’s been one of the reasons that I’ve been successful in life, let alone business. When you have zero expectations, everything else is just a pleasant surprise.

This is beautiful, because it's better. It's the best. When you have expectations, people will always disappoint you. When you have no expectations, you'll always be surprised, and being surprised is a positive, fun thing. Who doesn't love coming home to a clean house or a giant cake with sprinkles and balloons and all the good and happy things? Nobody, that's who.

So life is changing for me right now. I'm going to write my heart out, I'm going to stop expecting things from people, and I'm going to love my life and stop drowning in stress, disappointment, and anxiety.

It's the year of Chaviva.

Back in NYC: This City Isn't What I Used to Be

Being back in NYC for the first time in ... something like five years, but really we'll say six years because the truth is the last time I was here I was in a hotel at JFK passing through on my way to Israel, feels like a dream.

Six years ago I was living in New Jersey and commuting in to NYC every day to attend NYU, where I was pursuing my second and third master's degrees in Judaic Studies and Jewish Education. It feels like a million years ago, honestly. And being back here is just surreal. I forgot what life was like "in the city" and I'm only here for 24 hours for work.

It's possible that my entire experience is probably grumpily painted by the fact that my flight was delayed twice and ended up getting in more than three hours later than anticipated. It's also probable that the fact that I arrived in the city close to 10 pm and nearly every kosher restaurant was closed or closing plays into my annoyance at the city. And then when the food I did order showed up it was breaded instead of gluten free, leaving me food-less and hungry after being in airports all day with nothing by nuts and hardboiled eggs.

But I digress.

The noise, the hectic bustle of these streets is something I'd forgot about. Or, it's possible, the noise is less aggressive down south near NYU where I spent most of my time. Up here, near Times Square where I stayed, it was an overnight constant of car horns and garbage trucks and police cars and music. This morning around 5 a.m. it was jackhammers and yelling. And I heard it all as if it were happening next to me in bed ... from the 15th floor of my hotel.

Awake, showered, hopeful, I stepped outside into the swamp. I don't mind an 80 degree day or a 100 degree day, as long as it isn't humid. I don't do humidity. I don't do sweating and sticky grossness. It's one of the reasons I truly love living in Denver. I walked a few blocks, shoving my way through vendors attempting to get people onto bus tours and to shows they don't want to see, and it was funny because not a single one of them even attempted to talk to me. Suitcase in tow, is there something about me that says, "I'm not a tourist"? Something determined or focused on my face?

I'm seriously narrating to myself as I walk. All of this. Then I hit this place called Greggory's Coffee, and here I sit, waiting for a 2:30 pm meeting that was supposed to be a noon meeting. And then off to the airport to fly back home. But this time? I'm flying out of JFK and not the ramshackle, looks-like-it-was-set-up-overnight-in-a-mad-dash LGA.

I don't know if/when I'll be back in NYC. Something about the hecticness of the city makes my social anxiety activate. My typically confident and determined personality feels confused, rushed, out of sorts. There's something about the noise and the dirt and the people ...

I didn't used to be like this. I can't imagine brining kids into the city. I'd fall apart.

Honestly? I can't wait to get back to Denver. It's clean, crisp, quiet(er). I've aged, obviously. I've gotten older. I'm only 33, but feeling this way about a city I once thought would be my long-term home makes me feel ancient.