Well I have a conflict. What's new, right?

I am a big fan of Cyber Monday. I like the idea of Black Friday but I never take part because I don't have enough of the killer instinct in me. I will never be at the front of the line and if someone races me for the last Xbox Kinect, I will back off. I am much better suited to Cyber Monday.

By Cyber Monday many people are back at work so already, traffic a little weeded out.  There are no lines to stand in. Browse and buy. I might pay a little more in shipping, but realizing that I would most likely lose out on all the deals of Black Friday anyway and end up wasting money on things I didn't even want, I'm calling the shipping fees a wash. So what's the problem? I learned this...

 For every $100 spent in locally owned independent stpres, $68 is returned to the community through taxes, payroll, and other expenditures. If you spend that in a national chain only $43 stays local. But if you spend it online - NOTHING comes home. zero dollars point zero zero cents.  Hm.

Now even though I am interested in community economics, I still have to mind my dollars and get what I need at good prices. But I think there's a happy medium. Zero dollars coming back to the community at times like these is troubling.

Hmmm.  How good ARE the deals online?  Maybe online sellers should consider donating a small portion of their sales to the community where the sale originated. Something to think about. 

I caught myself dwelling on not having any money to shop on Black Friday. Shame on me. 

Although trying to snag bargains for the kids for Christmas is certainly financially responsible, this is not the theme of the season. It's a day to spend with family and give thanks for what we have.

But then the more I thought about it, the more complex my conflict became.

I have never needed a Sally Struthers commercial or struggling economy to remind me of the problems of the world. I am always acutely aware of the pain and suffering around me - of loves ones, of community, across the nation, and world wide. I never think in terms of Flint hurting or America's struggles. I see faces and circumstances. I carry that hurt with me always. I am thankful for what I have. But I am conflicted about the traditional way of showing it.

With all that thankfulness and togetherness of Thanksgiving dinner comes over indulgence and waste. What a slap in the face to those not as fortunate. And to top it all off - I spend half my time not even thinking I'm fortunate. Thinking I'm losing fast. Shame on me again. And you too maybe, cus I know I'm not alone. 

I feel the more appropriate tradition for showing thanks would be for everyone to spend the day GIVING to others. SERVING others. Volunteering. Donating. Cooking. Sacrificing.

How can I start this tradition without it being perceived as pulling away and NOT appreciating my family? Hm. I'm thinking...

 

According to statistics found at White House.gov there has been a steady climb in employment over the last year with an average increase 122,000 jobs per month over the last quarter. That all sounds good and may be surprising to some,  considering all the negative talk I've heard about the current administrations "failures".  I am not really surprised about that, though, because there are signs of employment stability everywhere. I have not forgotten the thickness in the air two years ago when all around me people were losing their jobs and businesses were closing their doors. What DOES surprise me, though, is the growing numbers of finance jobs available, according to job boards I've seen online. Wait - i take that back. maybe it's not surprising. Maybe they're old jobs that need refilling and business recover? Whatever the case, I can confidently say that banking is the absolute last career field I want to get into. How about you?

 I worked for 20 years in the customer service industry and was very good at my job. I enjoyed meeting and mingling with people. But it wasn't completely fulfilling. I had some complaints -

1) my need for creativity was not being met. I often worked so many hours that I was so tired I didn't even have time to read, much less create my own works. 

2) The hours were so crappy that I missed out on many family events and social engagements.

3) My over time and over and above work ethic never seemed to be appreciated. It was a constant struggle to get a decent wage. I watched people never get raises or recognition just because they didn't know they should ask for it, and employers were more than willing to take advantage. 

The day came that I didn't feel like giving my all anymore for such small pay off. I started a business, worked for myself, in my home office, processing insurance claims. No more working for the man! It was great. For awhile. But I missed people. I didn't realized how much I would miss "water cooler talk" and people to fun with. Looking at customers family pictures of folks I'd never meet, receiving skin care tips, and picking up trivial information from customers in passion. 

 Like ... Do I need to know that  ball thrust bearings are the magic behind a lazy susan? No. But people love lazy susans. It's one of the most remarked upon things at my current job, selling residential real estate, when I'm showing houses to buyers. Whether the spinning storage solution is really that important to them, or they just like the name, "lazy susan", I don't always know. But it's a hot kitchen topic. And knowing that little tidbit makes me just a bit more of an expert when I'm showing houses. And where did I pick up that nugget of information? From a buyer while showing a house. In exchange for his knowledge I shared with him some trivia that I had recently learned - Bill Laimbeer of the Detroit Pistons once played a Sleestak in the old tv show from the 70s, "Land of the Lost". 

You can't learn good stuff like this when you're locked up at home.  

I'm on a pretty good path today - selling houses for the man, and freelance writing for myself. At the office I get to see warm faces of people I enjoy, and at my home office I actually get paid for the creative outlet and solitude I need. I think I can do this for at least another 20 years.