Charging Through Life

I'm writing this outside near the pool on a Sunday afternoon. I've spent the entire weekend inside watching movies so getting outside as far as my WiFi will allow is a nice change. Last weekend was nearly the same for me. Why am I being so reclusive? Because I have $50 to last me until Thursday - haven't you been paying attention?

There is very little I can think of to do outside the safety of Larraby Spa that doesn't involve cash.

I haven't been hanging out with my friends as much as I probably should. I know, we all have our own problems right now: Brian is looking for a real job, Drew doesn't know how to save money, Regan is an alcoholic, Bruce is depressed, Randy has anger management issues, KC may be OK - he is in a new relationship with Al - but I don't know for certain. But even still, finances are my area of self-pride. Admitting that I'm struggling is hard to do.

For example, on Wednesday we all meet up for dinner before TV night. The check came and we were like $80 short. Nobody was saying anything and I just said, "but the rest on my card." Bless his heart, Brian said, "you can't afford to be doing that right now." It was sweet even though the truth sucks.

And don't even get me started on the boyfriend subject. Man, I have not felt worthy of a relationship for so long now. For the longest time TimTom was interested in me but my fear of opening up and dealing with a serodiscordant relationship drove me to ruin that prospect. Now Jason at work is clearly interested in me but neither he nor I will make a first move. I know why I won't: damaged goods - I'm broke and +. Plus he's like 8% body fat compared to my 13%.

One could say that I am the poorest I have ever been in my life. No money, no savings, a job but no career or growth, no boyfriend, and friends that I'm not exactly turning to. Is this my rock bottom? I mean, it must be - I've already come to accept that I'm at "the last option" and will be seeing a bankruptcy attorney. This must be the point where I realize other things must change too.

So here I am on an outstandingly beautiful 80° Sunday afternoon in August -- hiding and sad.

I think Brightcove was the best thing for me. When we migrated from Feedroom to the Brightcove platform a year ago I had no idea what I would be learning. Scott didn't really either but he knew the platform was powerful and would move the company in a positive direction. And he knew that by making me the local expert on the technology it would entrench me in Beachbody and give me an advantage, not to mention job security.

So today I own the Brightcove relationship and all things video distribution at Beachbody. Nobody else knows how to program players or fully understands their capabilities. The thing of it is, nobody thinks of video distribution as "video distribution." It's more simplistic like just some little players on a page.

I think that may be where I'm going wrong. I do my job and keep the magic to myself. I've tried to let others know that what I accomplish is pretty fuckin' cool but they don't seem to get it. So to them, it's no big deal. I couldn't help but wonder if they know how valuable I am or if they keep me around because I get the job done without a large cost.

Alright, the plan. So I am attempting to make digital video distribution a larger component of the Beachbody business. And I'm attempting to jump ship to the Web department where I should get more cash for what I do and have a clearer growth path.

I've tried this once before. Bill Townsend, the previous VP of Online was very receptive to me joining his team. He saw the value in what I did and knew how I could help his objectives. But then he had to go and get a brain tumor or something. My thoughts are with you Bill. I feel selfish bitching about my life in a blog right now when someone has real problems to deal with.

This week we got a new VP of Online, Hope. Everyone around the office is saying, "we've got Hope now. Maybe she can fix things." That's a lot to ask of one woman. But perhaps she can start with something small like my salary. You see, two months ago the new 'Social Media Manager' position was posted. I jumped at the opportunity.

But much like Burger King, I want it my way. I'm not going in for the Social Media Manager job. I don't see the long-term stability and security in that position. Plus, I've worked too hard in video distribution to just hand it over. So I'm proposing that we merge the two positions into one. I think it's brilliant, I've been told it's arrogant.

So far I have written up a new job description (although I'm still deciding on what I want my title to be), written up a business proposal, an executive summary, a new-job guideline for measurement, and researched comparable salaries. Now all I half to do is charm Hope, and negotiate the deal. Wish me luck.

I will freely admit that my effort level at Beachbody has not always been consistent. There were periods of time where I worked my ass off - staying late (really late in the early days), taking on extra responsibilities (see booking travel & training), and being a real team-player (ask me about the shrubbery story sometime).

But then there were those times when, quite frankly my dear, I didn't give a fuck. Those times were apparent. Sure I still went into the office and did my work and got things done. But Scott knew I was costing. Perhaps I'm a victim of my own good work-ethic sometimes. hummm?

However, while I'm eating my fair share of Humble Pie here, I did make a strong effort to turn Beachbody into a real job. You must remember, nobody could ever really tell me what my job title meant. And because I usually ended up doing a little bit of everything, I found it difficult to hone in on a specialty. I incorrectly thought that if I was good at a little bit of everything I would be a more valuable asset to the company and justly rewarded. Come to find out it's better to be an expert at one thing. That's how you get promoted.

And as it always does, time marches on and I find myself still at the job 29 months after I started. Sure I got a bump up to the $55k that I thought I deserved when I started; but when I got that increase (a year ago now) I thought I had exceeded that pay level already. And if I thought I knew more then - whoow, Baby do I know some shit now!

Part 1: "I woke up one day and was working for a fitness company"

February 9, 2007 was the day I was laid off from Technicolor. I had worked there for 4-years. They were having their own restructuring issues and the company was sending staff off with week-ass severance packages in groups of 15 to 30 at-a-time. I got caught in round three along with the other two guys from my department.

Having been laid off once before from Duplitech, I knew I had to get a job; and with a looming mortgage over my head I had to do it fast!

Enter Beachbody. Well, rather Million Dollar Body, the experimental subsidiary division of the more "successful" Beachbody. I say "successful" because I had reservations about this company from before I stepped in the door for my first interview. My good friend Drew got me the interview but it was his long-time boyfriend, Brian, who had himself been laid off from Beachbody in 2004/'05 when the company was bleeding money and needed to trim the fat. Having just been a victim of of the same corporate restructuring fate, I was weary of any company that couldn't better forecast it's future successes and staffing needs.

I interviewed with a cute kid named Brandon (who I would later learn, to my horror, was only 24) and a hyper "funny-man" named Scott, for a new position in the new Production Department, Digital Asset Manager. There was no job description for Digital Asset Manager and the HR rep couldn't tell me what I would be doing. In fact Scott didn't fully know what I would be doing in the position other than keeping the editors stocked with footage for the shows that were in development. You see, there was no organization or process yet. So I was going in to set up a digital library. Piece of cake.

The offer came in less than what I left Technicolor at. And when I pointed this out it seemed as though I was putting Scott out. He begrudgingly upped his offer to $50k to match my last position. Now, realize, I knew I should have been making $55k at that point in my career but it was difficult to get the cheep-ass infomercial company up to $50, and I wasn't planning on staying there more than 3-months until I found something better.

• $53.80 in cash
• $57.36 in bills
• $50.59 in regular savings
• $242.37 in "don't touch" savings
• $20,000 in 401(k) retirement (estimated)
• ($16,654.53) Citicard - White
• ($8,423.93) Chase
• ($7,474.94) Discover
• ($4,693.06) Bank of America
• ($1,090.69) Citicard - Universal

This blog will attempt to flush out how I got to this point in my life, what mistakes I've made, as well as the experience of correcting my situation and the lessons I will learn.

They say it takes 7 years to get a bankruptcy off of your credit report; and while I haven't yet decided that in-fact bankruptcy will be my vehicle through financial restructuring, it appears today that the dreaded "last resort" has arrived. So I was cleverly going to call my blog "7 years" (brilliantly simple, yes thank you). But some ass hole named Scott took the clever name of my blog in May of 2002 and hasn't done shit with it. The ironic twist of fate that my chosen blog name, "7 years" was taken from me 7-years ago (ACTUALLY, 7-years ago one day after my birthday!) is not lost on me and I will no-doubt have something to say about that in a future entry.

So for now, my blog is called "33 going on 40" because I, today, am 33 and if left to bankruptcy as my only option, I will be 40-years-old once it falls off my credit report. It's not nearly as catchy of a title but the way things have been going for me lately, I should have expected this social experiment to not start off the way I had planned.