The Why Behind The Decision To Sell
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Stories
Laugh. Cry. Learn Something.
I kicked back against formal structure in my company until I couldn’t any longer. My free-wheeling style was limiting our growth. Kicking and screaming, I finally went into the world of HR and job descriptions, but I didn’t like it - until it worked.
I kicked back against formal structure in my company until I couldn’t any longer. My free-wheeling style was limiting our growth. Kicking and screaming, I finally went into the world of HR and job descriptions, but I didn’t like it - until it worked.
I had just finished a speaking engagement at Lake Tahoe, an otherworldly place I’d often heard about but never seen. This high-profile engagement had taken months of preparation and it had gone well. Afterwards I’d planned to spend a couple of days at a resort with friends before going back home to my business and my confusing home life.
“You gotta keep the water in the bottle.” That’s what he kept saying as I tried one small swing after another. The problem was that there was no water and no bottle. Later I’d know this was a chipping stroke with a less lofty club, and that both the water and the bottle were imaginary visuals, but at this point I had no clue.
I was once married to a guy who loved cats. My birthday was the day before his, and Kidd was famous for giving great presents. It was hard to compete so most of the time I didn’t try. But one year we went out to lunch on my birthday and afterward wandered into the Cat Shoppe, which led to an idea that was almost brilliant.
After 13 years as close friends, I found myself dating Henry. A chill guy. Kind, considerate, sort of like a puppy. Considering our less than stellar outcomes in previous relationships, I think we were both a little surprised, but there we were.
When I was a kid, my mom sold Mary Kay makeup. She was a “professional beauty consultant” and I took that so seriously I put it on my school paperwork under “mother’s profession.” My dad wasn’t nearly as proud as I was.
There was a custody battle at the end of my first divorce. It was nasty even though it turned out “in my favor.” That’s a phrase I hate because there are no winners in custody fights. I was 29 and single with two kids, three and seven years old, and I looked over my shoulder for the next fight with my ex every moment.
I was late coming to golf; 51 years old and told by more than one that it was too late. I didn’t want to do it, wasn’t interested in it at all. As a business owner I felt like I didn’t have time for the game, that it was too slow for me. I couldn’t imagine what golf had that could hold my attention.