Making the high school team as a freshman was pretty awesome. I felt cool. I felt proud of myself. Within myself, I felt a confidence grow that I didn't really have before. I had always been a shy kid. I was fine around people I knew, but in new situations with new people it took me some time to warm up and be myself. I had the self confidence all throughout the tryouts that I would make the team. It wasn't arrogance, it was just the fact that I had been playing up a grade all of my career up to that point, so I felt comfortable with the competition. As a member of the team, I did get some preferential treatment at my school. Not really by other students, but by the faculty. I had to leave school early on game days to travel and so forth. In gym class, I didn't have to dress and participate on game days. It was kind of cool to have people ask me why I was dressed up, or leaving early, or not playing in gym class. Outside of that, I didn't get the instant popularity that I hoped would accompany my making the team.
Once I made the team, the coaches made no secret that they had no intention of playing me. "You are a freshman, so you won't get much playing time at all." I was told to expect minimal time on the court, and that if that was a problem for me, I could leave the team and try out for the 9th grade team. I didn't even think twice about leaving the team. Again, in my head I was playing at my skill level. The first few games were just as the coaches said, I didn't play more than a few minutes total. As I sat on the bench, I was able to view the game from a position I was not used to. I had to watch other guys get called up before me. I had to watch them play well, play bad, but simply play. I didn't like it, and had a conversation with myself that I still remember to this day. "You are just as good as the guys starting and getting time. Maybe even better," I thought. "When you practice, play like it!"
It was a few weeks into the preseason, and we were having practice in the little gym. I was on the floor with the "B" team running a 1-3-1 defense to give our first team a sense of what to expect from our next opponent. My coaches put me on the point/ top of the 1-3-1 zone; partly because I was big and took up space, and partly for fun. I saw this as my opportunity. I got in my stance as the point guard brought the ball up the floor. I attacked him with defensive pressure, got a steal and a layup. I ran back to the defensive end, and got ready again, chills all throughout my body. The guard came back, with a determined look on his face. I applied pressure again, not letting him go where he wanted to go. I stole the ball again, and got another layup, more chills. As the guard came back again, I could tell he was really mad this time. He came right at me, full speed. I let him run into me. My coaches wisely let the play continue and I got right back up and in his face defensively. For a third time in a row, I stole the ball and we scored. I think of that practice as the day of decision for me. I had decided within myself that I was good enough to start. I didn't mope about not playing much, but used it as motivation to make others see that I was a starter. I was obviously good enough to make the team. The coaches must have seen something in me that lead them to choose me, so I wanted to show them why they needed to play me.
As a result of that practice, my playing time went up. Against our next opponent we played a 1-3-1 zone just to see how they would handle my pressure. The point guard brought the ball up, saw a big 6'5" dude at the top and looked at me like "you're kidding me right?" He looked like he thought I was going to fall over or that he would school me. That just stoked the fire inside me to wipe the smirk off his face. I applied the pressure, stole the ball, and we scored.
In my next week of practice I focused on out playing the starting center when we scrimmaged. He was thick and strong, but didn't really have great skills in the post. I used my speed and skills against his size. I knew at that time that I couldn't out muscle him down low, so I used my brain instead. As the week progressed, I found myself on the "A" team with the starters. Another game came and went with more playing time, and me taking advantage of every second I had on the floor. I started the next game, and did so for the rest of the season.
This was a great boost to my confidence on and off the floor. I felt like I had some swagger. With my success came some resentment from other players. No sophomore wanted to be out played by a freshman. No starter wanted to lose their spot to a freshman. Yes there was a team mentality, but I noticed that some of the guys didn't like the fact that I was playing and they were not. They were looking for me to slip up so they could capitalize on it. This just motivated me even more to be as perfect as I could be on the court. I didn't score as much as I would have liked, but really became the go to guy on defense, and to help my teammates when they got beat. I also learned how to set a wicked screen, and leveled a few guys along the way. My work didn't go unnoticed by the coaches of the JV team. Soon I was being called up to play JV and I started getting good minutes there. Again, I got some dirty looks from others, guys who were juniors, for playing in front of them.
This is becoming a saga, so I will pause here and ask that you keep checking in. More to come.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Hoops and Confidence (Part 1)
As many of you may already know, I've played a lot of basketball in my days. I've played ever since I was in 2nd grade, and have been able to travel all across this lovely country playing the game I love ever since. Being tall gave me some advantages of course, bit I was missing that extra layer of coaching to teach me better fundamentals. My dad was a great teacher, but it was hard to put those teachings into practice without a hoop. When I was in 4th grade, my basketball career hit, to use a film term, the first major plot point.
It was Halloween, and my school had its annual costume parade; I was dressed as Frankenstein. As I had fun with all of my friends that day, my parents were approached by the father of one of my classmates. He asked them if I played basketball, and if I would like to play on his team. He asked permission to call me and ask me as well. A few days later, our phone rang and I spoke to this strange guy for a few minutes. As our conversation was ending, I was invited to come practice with his team. These practices were nothing like I had ever experienced. We worked on fundamentals, we ran some drills, and we had a couple of set plays to learn. To be honest, I hated these practices at the beginning. I just thought playing basketball meant showing up, running around for a while, and having fun. I hadn't been critiqued by a coach for how I played or shot or anything like that before. I tried to give up a couple of times, but thankfully I had awesome parents who helped me get through it and stick to it.
In 5th grade, I was lucky enough to have something happen to me that forever changed my game in a good way... I broke my left wrist. I was in a cast for 2 weeks, and could have easily not gone to practice or games. Again, I was lucky to have a coach who instilled a team mentality and great parents who bought into it as well. While the team practiced, I went to the empty hoop and took shots with one hand. This taught me the proper form for successful, accurate shooting. It was hard. I missed a lot of shots. I dropped many balls, or had them fall off the side of my hand. In time, I was able to handle the ball well enough to shoot with little problems. The next practice after my cast came off was incredible. My left hand instinctively knew where to go to support the ball while still maintaining the correct form. I was now a more consistent shooter, and had the ball control and positioning that I previously lacked.
Being so tall at a young age, I was put with the older team. A team of kids a year older than me in school. This was scary for me. All these "bigger", stronger kids were intimidating to me as I first took the court against them. I had butterflies before every game wondering if there was going to be a big kid who would kill me on the other team. Looking back, this was not just for the sake of kids my own age, and for fairness. It was actually because my coach saw potential in me, and wanted me to be stretched out of my comfort zone and to improve. Did I have bad games? Most definitely. Was I scared many times? Of course! Did I get better? Quite. I played for this great coach all the way up to 8th grade. After I finished my 8th grade season, I was told that if I wanted to continue playing, I would need to try out for the high school team. My coach had done all the mentoring he could, and put it on us to take our game to the next level. I was saddened by this a bit, but really looked forward to trying out as well.
9th grade came. I heard about the tryouts for the sophomore team at the high school, and got those butterflies all over again. I was nervous because it was an unknown place. I didn't know the coaches, and many of the kids I played with weren't going to try out. I did have the confidence that I would play well because I had been playing a year up my whole life, so I had played against many of these older guys before, and by this time, I was much more comfortable matching up against them.
As I arrived for tryouts, I was excited, nervous, and a little scared. Here I was in this huge gym with hundreds of other kids who all had the hope of grabbing one of the coveted 15 spots on the team. The first two days were great. With so many people, they just had us play pickup games and sifted out the kids who had no place on the court. So, as a freshman, I made it through the first two rounds of cuts. As the herd was thinned, we did more skill drills and still played a lot of games. I was bumped around a few different teams to see how I did with different combinations of guys. I made the cut again. The next day I rolled my ankle. It was hurt so bad that I couldn't play. "There went my chances of making the team," I thought. Luckily the coaching staff saw something in me and let me stick around. "We'll keep him around for another day and see how he does," was a line my dad heard a few times in a row. Looking back, it reminds me of the line form the movie "The Princess Bride" that says, "good work, I'll most likely kill you in the morning." This is where I started to get some sideways looks from some of the older kids. I was still playing well, but many of them didn't like the fact that they were getting cut while this "little" freshman was going on. I grew to love, but hate, looking on the coaches office window at the list every day. I loved seeing my name, but hated seeing other kids cry, hit lockers, swear, and give me dirty looks after seeing that they were cut.
The day came for final cuts. The list was posted, and my name was on the list. I had made the team! I had struggled through the second week with a swollen and sore ankle, but still did enough to lock up a spot on the team. I was so excited! This excitement was two fold. One one hand, I was glad to be on a team, to have good coaches, and to face a new challenge. On the second; I was looking forward to whatever popularity may follow making the high school basketball team as a freshman.
I have to confess, I hated middle school. That awkward time of change, of struggling to find out who I was, and who my true friends were. Being so tall and lanky, I was teased and teased and teased. Girls seemed to hate me. There were mornings that I would wake up and just start crying because I dreaded facing people at school. Nothing ever became confrontational or physical, it was just a constant mental beating. So when I say that I looked forward to popularity, I really looked forward to it getting people to look at me in a different light. I wanted it so badly, as many young people do.
I'm going on and on, so this is now going to become a two part entry. So stay tuned and I'll have more on my basketball journey in the next couple of days.
It was Halloween, and my school had its annual costume parade; I was dressed as Frankenstein. As I had fun with all of my friends that day, my parents were approached by the father of one of my classmates. He asked them if I played basketball, and if I would like to play on his team. He asked permission to call me and ask me as well. A few days later, our phone rang and I spoke to this strange guy for a few minutes. As our conversation was ending, I was invited to come practice with his team. These practices were nothing like I had ever experienced. We worked on fundamentals, we ran some drills, and we had a couple of set plays to learn. To be honest, I hated these practices at the beginning. I just thought playing basketball meant showing up, running around for a while, and having fun. I hadn't been critiqued by a coach for how I played or shot or anything like that before. I tried to give up a couple of times, but thankfully I had awesome parents who helped me get through it and stick to it.
In 5th grade, I was lucky enough to have something happen to me that forever changed my game in a good way... I broke my left wrist. I was in a cast for 2 weeks, and could have easily not gone to practice or games. Again, I was lucky to have a coach who instilled a team mentality and great parents who bought into it as well. While the team practiced, I went to the empty hoop and took shots with one hand. This taught me the proper form for successful, accurate shooting. It was hard. I missed a lot of shots. I dropped many balls, or had them fall off the side of my hand. In time, I was able to handle the ball well enough to shoot with little problems. The next practice after my cast came off was incredible. My left hand instinctively knew where to go to support the ball while still maintaining the correct form. I was now a more consistent shooter, and had the ball control and positioning that I previously lacked.
Being so tall at a young age, I was put with the older team. A team of kids a year older than me in school. This was scary for me. All these "bigger", stronger kids were intimidating to me as I first took the court against them. I had butterflies before every game wondering if there was going to be a big kid who would kill me on the other team. Looking back, this was not just for the sake of kids my own age, and for fairness. It was actually because my coach saw potential in me, and wanted me to be stretched out of my comfort zone and to improve. Did I have bad games? Most definitely. Was I scared many times? Of course! Did I get better? Quite. I played for this great coach all the way up to 8th grade. After I finished my 8th grade season, I was told that if I wanted to continue playing, I would need to try out for the high school team. My coach had done all the mentoring he could, and put it on us to take our game to the next level. I was saddened by this a bit, but really looked forward to trying out as well.
9th grade came. I heard about the tryouts for the sophomore team at the high school, and got those butterflies all over again. I was nervous because it was an unknown place. I didn't know the coaches, and many of the kids I played with weren't going to try out. I did have the confidence that I would play well because I had been playing a year up my whole life, so I had played against many of these older guys before, and by this time, I was much more comfortable matching up against them.
As I arrived for tryouts, I was excited, nervous, and a little scared. Here I was in this huge gym with hundreds of other kids who all had the hope of grabbing one of the coveted 15 spots on the team. The first two days were great. With so many people, they just had us play pickup games and sifted out the kids who had no place on the court. So, as a freshman, I made it through the first two rounds of cuts. As the herd was thinned, we did more skill drills and still played a lot of games. I was bumped around a few different teams to see how I did with different combinations of guys. I made the cut again. The next day I rolled my ankle. It was hurt so bad that I couldn't play. "There went my chances of making the team," I thought. Luckily the coaching staff saw something in me and let me stick around. "We'll keep him around for another day and see how he does," was a line my dad heard a few times in a row. Looking back, it reminds me of the line form the movie "The Princess Bride" that says, "good work, I'll most likely kill you in the morning." This is where I started to get some sideways looks from some of the older kids. I was still playing well, but many of them didn't like the fact that they were getting cut while this "little" freshman was going on. I grew to love, but hate, looking on the coaches office window at the list every day. I loved seeing my name, but hated seeing other kids cry, hit lockers, swear, and give me dirty looks after seeing that they were cut.
The day came for final cuts. The list was posted, and my name was on the list. I had made the team! I had struggled through the second week with a swollen and sore ankle, but still did enough to lock up a spot on the team. I was so excited! This excitement was two fold. One one hand, I was glad to be on a team, to have good coaches, and to face a new challenge. On the second; I was looking forward to whatever popularity may follow making the high school basketball team as a freshman.
I have to confess, I hated middle school. That awkward time of change, of struggling to find out who I was, and who my true friends were. Being so tall and lanky, I was teased and teased and teased. Girls seemed to hate me. There were mornings that I would wake up and just start crying because I dreaded facing people at school. Nothing ever became confrontational or physical, it was just a constant mental beating. So when I say that I looked forward to popularity, I really looked forward to it getting people to look at me in a different light. I wanted it so badly, as many young people do.
I'm going on and on, so this is now going to become a two part entry. So stay tuned and I'll have more on my basketball journey in the next couple of days.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Winds of Change
I wanted to give a little history lesson for all of you. A little background on how I came to the place I am professionally. So sit back and enjoy the ride through my recent professional history...
This goes back to June of last year. I had been working for a company for 5 years, had a position that was challenging, but comfortable. I was the purchasing manager and had been for 3 years, so I can honestly say that I had my processes down, and knew what I was doing. Yes, there were things hat kept me on my toes, but generally I knew each day what was coming, or at least had the experience to know what to do in any situation. I had started at the bottom of the totem pole, and had held various positions in the company as it grew, and as my talents were utilized. I had applied for a few other positions within the company since taking over purchasing, but had stayed in the same place. I was beginning to get frustrated with the fact that I wasn't being considered for other opportunities even when I was proactively asking for mentoring to qualify myself for future opportunities. I had also noticed that many people were drawing conclusions that I didn't do anything all day. I can see how some might have perceived it that way. I'd been established in my processes, and spent most of my day on the phone or ordering things online. I could get things done fast, and that also lead to the illusion that I had lots of spare time. Of course, I was the only one who did the purchasing for the whole company, so my inbox was always full with things to work on.
In May of 2011, I was written up by the COO based on the assumption that I spent too much money with OEM's instead of going through other channels. My most busy time of the day was after 2pm. Orders came in furiously with immediate needs for shipment all over the country. Many of the little vendors were on the east coast, and by 2:30, most of the cutoff times were past for next day delivery. This forced our hand in many cases because the recipients were unwilling or unable to wait an extra day to see if we could get it cheaper. Needless to say, after being written up I was ready to leave.
One day, one of my friends and former neighbors posted about a job at his company. I commented asking about it. From there I went through a whirlwind of interviews, missing time at my current job etc. and eventually received a job offer. The pay and the change of scenery were my biggest deciding factors. So after 5 and a half years, I put in my 2 weeks notice and left a very established, albeit frustrating, position and company. I left for a small company of about 20 employees, working as their payroll manager. I was given the great privilege of managing two other payroll processors who were very experienced and knowledgeable. I was worried how my presence would be welcomed; partly because that comes with any new job, but also because I had no previous experience in payroll at all (aside from receiving a paycheck of course). My fears were unwarranted. My department welcomed me, were nice, and we fast became good friends. That little company had many problems that I wasn't aware of during the interview process, but I still loved it. This was different for me. I was working long hours. Going in early, staying late; missing time with family, and becoming entrenched in the things that needed to be done each day. I enjoyed it, but the stress was growing.
I mentioned that this little company had some issues. Many customers were concerned with the amount of turnover within the company, and this lead them to worry about the stability of the company as a whole. As the new year approached, many clients were leaving us. I was told that this was normal, and that we would be fine. Turnover on an annual basis is normal in that industry. After a couple of our bigger clients left us, I was told that we needed to lay off one of my employees. This happened the week before Christmas. I felt terrible, and was heartbroken that I had to let one of my people go. We arranged for this person to work through the holidays and a week or two into the new year. It wasn't ideal, but it made a crappy situation a little better.
Fast forward to January 12, 2012. I was preparing to take on the clients of my co-worker who was leaving on Friday. I got a call to come into the board room. I was a little suspicious because our HR manager, who had the day off, was there. I was pretty sure it wasn't going to be a good visit. As I sat with these two men who I have great respect for even now, I was filled with peace. In a sense, I knew what was coming, and I was completely fine with it. I was told that due to the losses of so many clients, additional cuts were going to be made. I was going to be one of those let go, and that my last day was the next day, Friday the 13th. As I mentioned before, I knew this was coming. I was not surprised by it at all, and most importantly, I wasn't mad about it. My main worry was, how am I going to tell my wife? I thanked them for the opportunity to work with them, and wished them luck. Heck, I even gave them both a hug. I had grown to love the people there, and that was the only sad part about it; not being able to see and be with them every day.
That phone call to my sweet, supportive wife was a hard one to make. To my relief, she was also calm. She may have felt like freaking out inside, but she never once let it come out. She was a great strength to me because of that. We both felt this was good for our family, and that this would lead us to the place I was meant to be. The place that was best for our family.
I won't go into details right now, but The next 5 months were a refiners fire that would prepare us for the great opportunity ahead. More to come...
This goes back to June of last year. I had been working for a company for 5 years, had a position that was challenging, but comfortable. I was the purchasing manager and had been for 3 years, so I can honestly say that I had my processes down, and knew what I was doing. Yes, there were things hat kept me on my toes, but generally I knew each day what was coming, or at least had the experience to know what to do in any situation. I had started at the bottom of the totem pole, and had held various positions in the company as it grew, and as my talents were utilized. I had applied for a few other positions within the company since taking over purchasing, but had stayed in the same place. I was beginning to get frustrated with the fact that I wasn't being considered for other opportunities even when I was proactively asking for mentoring to qualify myself for future opportunities. I had also noticed that many people were drawing conclusions that I didn't do anything all day. I can see how some might have perceived it that way. I'd been established in my processes, and spent most of my day on the phone or ordering things online. I could get things done fast, and that also lead to the illusion that I had lots of spare time. Of course, I was the only one who did the purchasing for the whole company, so my inbox was always full with things to work on.
In May of 2011, I was written up by the COO based on the assumption that I spent too much money with OEM's instead of going through other channels. My most busy time of the day was after 2pm. Orders came in furiously with immediate needs for shipment all over the country. Many of the little vendors were on the east coast, and by 2:30, most of the cutoff times were past for next day delivery. This forced our hand in many cases because the recipients were unwilling or unable to wait an extra day to see if we could get it cheaper. Needless to say, after being written up I was ready to leave.
One day, one of my friends and former neighbors posted about a job at his company. I commented asking about it. From there I went through a whirlwind of interviews, missing time at my current job etc. and eventually received a job offer. The pay and the change of scenery were my biggest deciding factors. So after 5 and a half years, I put in my 2 weeks notice and left a very established, albeit frustrating, position and company. I left for a small company of about 20 employees, working as their payroll manager. I was given the great privilege of managing two other payroll processors who were very experienced and knowledgeable. I was worried how my presence would be welcomed; partly because that comes with any new job, but also because I had no previous experience in payroll at all (aside from receiving a paycheck of course). My fears were unwarranted. My department welcomed me, were nice, and we fast became good friends. That little company had many problems that I wasn't aware of during the interview process, but I still loved it. This was different for me. I was working long hours. Going in early, staying late; missing time with family, and becoming entrenched in the things that needed to be done each day. I enjoyed it, but the stress was growing.
I mentioned that this little company had some issues. Many customers were concerned with the amount of turnover within the company, and this lead them to worry about the stability of the company as a whole. As the new year approached, many clients were leaving us. I was told that this was normal, and that we would be fine. Turnover on an annual basis is normal in that industry. After a couple of our bigger clients left us, I was told that we needed to lay off one of my employees. This happened the week before Christmas. I felt terrible, and was heartbroken that I had to let one of my people go. We arranged for this person to work through the holidays and a week or two into the new year. It wasn't ideal, but it made a crappy situation a little better.
Fast forward to January 12, 2012. I was preparing to take on the clients of my co-worker who was leaving on Friday. I got a call to come into the board room. I was a little suspicious because our HR manager, who had the day off, was there. I was pretty sure it wasn't going to be a good visit. As I sat with these two men who I have great respect for even now, I was filled with peace. In a sense, I knew what was coming, and I was completely fine with it. I was told that due to the losses of so many clients, additional cuts were going to be made. I was going to be one of those let go, and that my last day was the next day, Friday the 13th. As I mentioned before, I knew this was coming. I was not surprised by it at all, and most importantly, I wasn't mad about it. My main worry was, how am I going to tell my wife? I thanked them for the opportunity to work with them, and wished them luck. Heck, I even gave them both a hug. I had grown to love the people there, and that was the only sad part about it; not being able to see and be with them every day.
That phone call to my sweet, supportive wife was a hard one to make. To my relief, she was also calm. She may have felt like freaking out inside, but she never once let it come out. She was a great strength to me because of that. We both felt this was good for our family, and that this would lead us to the place I was meant to be. The place that was best for our family.
I won't go into details right now, but The next 5 months were a refiners fire that would prepare us for the great opportunity ahead. More to come...
Friday, May 11, 2012
Study, Test, Sleep, Repeat
A quick little note... I have the most supportive family ever! I've been working toward becoming a financial adviser for the past month or two; going to the office, meeting people, and most of all... studying. I've spent every moment of free time at work when I'm not meeting with clients and what not, studying and taking practice tests. I get home and once the kids are in bed, I take more tests. I'm a practice test taking fool! Last night as I completed 4 more tests, I looked at how many questions I have answered over the past couple weeks. Out of 1621 total questions, I only have 372 questions that I have not seen yet. That's a lot of questions! I have got to the point where in my dreams, I am either discussing, testing, or studying about the Series 6 license.
A little on why I have to get all these licenses. I currently have my life and health insurance license, so I can sell those types of insurances. In order to do the financial work that I love, I have to receive licenses to set up accounts, sell securities and so forth. As I've studied and read, I'm quickly learning that the people who write these exams treat things like a club. They make the test as hard as possible in order to keep as many people out as they can. Suffice it to say, they are brutal tests with lots of circular language and tricksy tactics. I've actually taken this test once already, and failed it. I missed the passing mark by 6 questions, 6! Needless to say, I felt like jumping off a bridge that day. With that previous failure, I had to wait for 30 days before I could schedule my test again. That sucked in more ways than one. I mentioned that I've been working every day, meeting with people, gaining clients etc. Well, I love it to death, it's the greatest profession for me. The one kicker though, is that I can't get paid until I have my Series 6 license. Some of you may know that I've been unemployed since January (I'll have a post on that another day). Funds are tight to say the least.
With my previous failure of this test, the heat gets ratcheted up even more. You see, if I were to fail it a second time (I wont), I would not be able to schedule another test for 6 months. So you can imagine the mental game that goes along with my preparations this time. I know this is what I'm supposed to do. I have received the greatest fulfillment from this job so far than I ever have in any other job I've had. I love helping people. I've felt my whole life that I need to help people, and that I'm good at doing that. I have to tell you all, that I love sitting in people's homes talking. Talking about anything really. I've loved talking to people about their goals, their worries, and what is important to them. I love helping people plan. This job provides me with every one of those opportunities, and more.
Well, this "quick little note" became an epistle of sorts. Let me close by saying that my family rocks! Liselle is so great for being patient with me, and supporting me. I know I haven't been 100% there mentally when I'm at home because I've become obsessed with passing this test. I'd like to publicly apologize to her for that now. I'm sure she has asked me many things, or mentioned plans to me, and I've not heard them because of my pre-occupation with this test. I was told long ago that there would be times where I would be studying and working instead of enjoying some of the frills of the world. I truly believe that time is right now especially. I've missed the first few games of my softball league with my good friends. I've elected to study instead of playing my guitar. I've done a lot of those little things lately, but know that I will be able to enjoy them again soon. To any and all who read this, I'm here to help you. You are all in my life because of your goodness, and I'd love to help you in any way I can. Whether it's a visit over lunch, spending time with our families, or discussing your financial goals and concerns, I'm here for you!
A little on why I have to get all these licenses. I currently have my life and health insurance license, so I can sell those types of insurances. In order to do the financial work that I love, I have to receive licenses to set up accounts, sell securities and so forth. As I've studied and read, I'm quickly learning that the people who write these exams treat things like a club. They make the test as hard as possible in order to keep as many people out as they can. Suffice it to say, they are brutal tests with lots of circular language and tricksy tactics. I've actually taken this test once already, and failed it. I missed the passing mark by 6 questions, 6! Needless to say, I felt like jumping off a bridge that day. With that previous failure, I had to wait for 30 days before I could schedule my test again. That sucked in more ways than one. I mentioned that I've been working every day, meeting with people, gaining clients etc. Well, I love it to death, it's the greatest profession for me. The one kicker though, is that I can't get paid until I have my Series 6 license. Some of you may know that I've been unemployed since January (I'll have a post on that another day). Funds are tight to say the least.
With my previous failure of this test, the heat gets ratcheted up even more. You see, if I were to fail it a second time (I wont), I would not be able to schedule another test for 6 months. So you can imagine the mental game that goes along with my preparations this time. I know this is what I'm supposed to do. I have received the greatest fulfillment from this job so far than I ever have in any other job I've had. I love helping people. I've felt my whole life that I need to help people, and that I'm good at doing that. I have to tell you all, that I love sitting in people's homes talking. Talking about anything really. I've loved talking to people about their goals, their worries, and what is important to them. I love helping people plan. This job provides me with every one of those opportunities, and more.
Well, this "quick little note" became an epistle of sorts. Let me close by saying that my family rocks! Liselle is so great for being patient with me, and supporting me. I know I haven't been 100% there mentally when I'm at home because I've become obsessed with passing this test. I'd like to publicly apologize to her for that now. I'm sure she has asked me many things, or mentioned plans to me, and I've not heard them because of my pre-occupation with this test. I was told long ago that there would be times where I would be studying and working instead of enjoying some of the frills of the world. I truly believe that time is right now especially. I've missed the first few games of my softball league with my good friends. I've elected to study instead of playing my guitar. I've done a lot of those little things lately, but know that I will be able to enjoy them again soon. To any and all who read this, I'm here to help you. You are all in my life because of your goodness, and I'd love to help you in any way I can. Whether it's a visit over lunch, spending time with our families, or discussing your financial goals and concerns, I'm here for you!
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