Career Coaching Session 2
Finally pubbing my short journey with a career coach. Almost two years after. TBH I still have PTSD from that job.
There are no great learnings here from me or even a conclusion just because. But there are takeaways from the stuff my coach said, some of which I logged below — just that I was (am?) crap at following good advice. Spoiler: I didn’t follow through on his advice because one exercise made me realise the only solution was to quit, which I did, on-the-spot a couple of months after.
Session 2 (12 July 2019). I was half an hour late. I had been editing one mess of a story all day from a freelancer who gets to interesting places, but turns in crap copy. I thought it would take me two hours. It took me over six — with distractions like chasing up invoices, replying a few emails and an impromptu discussion when a sales colleague popped into my room. I had two other job bags to clear before I could leave.
I hated being late to meet Melvin. I’m paying him $300/hour. That was $150 of wasted time for him even if he didn’t charge me for my lateness and answered my apologetic text with, “No worries :)”
Why did I feel guilty leaving the office at 5:49pm on a Friday? Our official knockoff is 5.30pm and underperforming colleagues have no qualms about leaving on the dot — or early. The guilt was two-fold: I still had colleagues working away; I still had work to be done.
Contending with peak hour traffic and resentment from cleaning up rubbish text had me utterly drained. Melvin seemed unaffected by my lateness. Smiley even. I was the complete opposite. Honestly, I could have fallen asleep right on the table. Only much later that night did I realise—because I was too tired all day to even remember—that I also hadn’t slept well as my husband had set the air conditioning to Arctic temperatures and I’d shivered through the night.
I ordered a sticky toffee pudding and decaf. I was famished. I usually skip lunch to IF and can even last till 9pm when I have my usual late dinner.
I was appalled and guilty when I took out my notebook. I had not looked at it since our last coaching session. Melvin had texted me some DFY and DWY actionables, and I had only scrambled to adapt the first task that afternoon — a task for my VA to get me meetings with headhunters. Because from Melvin’s clearheaded perspective, getting out was the best thing I could do.
My notebook flipped open to a page headed with “My NO List” (after one of Melvin’s genius offhand comments, asking if I had one) but otherwise empty. How did I not do my homework? Later partway through our session, I sneaked a few seconds to scribble down: “Shit freelancers”.
Melvin was — rightly—concerned that I hadn’t acted on our last list of actionables.
I vomited a stream of work incidents and frustrations for a good 10, 15 minutes. At that point I did feel acutely that I was treating him like a shrink.
Melvin pointed out that I make things sound worse than they are. I had 4 stories and 1 snippet to write. Because I was just quickly counting things off a to-do list, I reported that I had 5 stories to write by Monday.
He asked me how long, on average, I take to write a piece. I’d masticated on my last one for three days, and while it was awfully late, I did get a few compliments on it. I told him 36 to 48 hours—that’s the time it takes (not even really accounting for all the over-research I tend to do) to ponder over the angle, turn over phrases in my mind till they sounded just right, think about the photo and captions to value-add to the piece…
He made notes on his A4 sheet of paper then simply said: “There’s no way you can take that amount of time for all your stories and still meet your deadline.”
“Can you get someone to write your stories for you?” No: Ethics. Industry taboo.
“Can you leave holes in the story and get a VA to fill in with research?” Totally.
He mapped out the plan: Tonight, rest. Tomorrow, go to the club, leave your phone at home, do not turn on wifi on your comp, take two hours per story, and have 5 incomplete stories by the end of the day.
The Plan versus The Reality: I slept terribly that night. I woke up, answered some WhatsApp messages, checked in on how some social media posts were performing, went back to sleep till past 2pm. Instead of going solo to the club, I waited for my hubby to decide if he too wanted to go, then waited for him to get ready, had a slow lunch together, then finally hit the study room.
Two hours and my first story was 60% done. But instead of stopping and moving on, I spent another hour on it, then joined my hubby for dinner. Went home, continued on the same story till 5.30am.
Note to self, to inform Melvin: Please do not be soft or sympathetic to me. Empathy is appreciated, but give it to me straight.
Let’s not waste time working through things. If you see the solution clearly, just tell me what to do. At this stage, I need DFY not DWY or DIY solutions.
On Sunday, I awake feeling anxious at about 9.30am. I remember that my sales director never replied me on the agenda of a Monday morning meeting and, loathe as I am to bother colleagues after hours, text her to ask. It goes as mildly frustratingly as I predicted, although I’m grateful she replied instantly.
She: [Managing director] called the mtg.. she asked me to send the calendar invite
Me: If this is for the whole Sept issue, this meeting is premature
She: Then u tell [MD] pls
Me: My new editor only joins on Tuesday, and not everyone in the editorial team was invited also. This is very confusing why you’re asked to set up my meeting. Like me being asked to set up your sales meeting
She: Like I said.. [MD] asked of me
Me: Ok I’ve asked her. If she expects a full Sept issue discussion, please standby that it will be postponed to later this week. [New editor] should be on board first
I text the managing director.
Me, 9.34am: Hi [MD], what is the agenda for tomorrow’s editorial meeting? [Sales Director] said you asked her to arrange this
MD, 9.39am: Yes I would like to know what’s the line up for September
Me, 9.40am: We’ve not had the editorial team meeting yet, and [New Editor] is only joining on Tuesday. Can we postpone this please?
MD, 2.09pm: Sorry let’s Not wait
MD: There are few things to be sorted
Me: Ok
Me: May I ask if you will be discussing things other than Sept issue, and should the whole team be involved as not everyone was invited to the meeting
Me, 3.02pm: Do you need L, J, G, S and A [all my team members who were not evited] included? They are not on the list
MD, 4.39pm: Ok let’s get the rest too
Kindly inform them tomorrow
Thanks
Me, 3.07pm: Sorry [VA], I need this [headhunter meeting set-ups] speeded up. 8 hours but pls set up as many calls or meetings within the next two weeks. Let me know if you can’t do it so I can find help elsewhere if necessary. Thank you and sorry to bother you on a Sunday
“Kindly inform them tomorrow”
I’m sorry, but in what universe would I call for a last-minute meeting at literally the last minute if I can help it? I text the others and they reply with their okays. I mean, was there even a choice?
My subeditor replies asking shouldn’t we wait for our new editor to be on board. I recount the exchanges in screen caps accessorised with skull emojis. We waste half an hour griping.
