I’m exhausted from the sheer weight of carrying these books around, and I find myself unable to track my life for more than a few weeks because of all the books I have started and stopped.

Here is a picture of just the books from last month. Two spiral calendars and three notebooks of different sizes (so one would fit more readily in my handbag). The lovely blue appointment book is big enough to last eighteen months (who am I kidding?) and so far I like it a lot. The purple one was nice, but there was something about the pages that didn’t work with my favorite pen. The dark brown notebook in the back had these really cool slider things into which you could put extra papers, but I really don’t have extra papers and I didn’t like the tacky plastic.

As you can see, I have an organization problem. I can’t commit. I can’t commit to where to live and I can’t commit to how to handle my calendars and to do lists.

I talk to friends about it and ask them what they do. “How do you keep track of your to-do list?” I ask them. “Is it like mine—longer than your life-span?” Usually they look at me like I’m nuts, but some of them actually answer.

“I write it on a Word document, print it out, cut out stuff I’ve finished, add new stuff in, and then reprint it,” said Roseanna, who also has a long ‘to do’ list and seems to be an organized person. But I don’t like that idea, because once you have deleted your finished items from the Word document, you have no record of what you did. Also, how can you get that great feeling at the end of the day looking at all the things you have crossed off? I need that carrot at the end of my day. I ask for so little.

I also have trouble committing to pens and pencils. I’ll pick a favorite brand and stock up on them, and then another one that sneaks in and I like that one even better. I am a pen whore. I will drop one for another with the snap of a pencil over your thigh. My favorite pen right now is square and it came, I think, from the W Hotel. It’s very expensive to stay there, so it makes sense that they would have good pens. I may go to the W in NYC next time I’m there and see if I can lift some of them so I have a stash.

All in all, I would like to commit to a to-do list protocol and an appointment book for at least one year. I’m hoping some of you out there in cyberspace have the same problem and will not judge me. It’s hard to come out of the closet about some of these shortcomings, and if you are going to judge me, please do it silently so I don’t become self-conscious.

Let me set the stage: I receive approximately 400 emails a day that I have to open and read. I’m not complaining; I love my e-mail life. I love the work I do. I love hearing from friends and family. Just the other day my cousin in Florida, whom I rarely see or speak to, sent me a fabulous piece about how there is no such thing as a true soul-mate. Reading it allowed me to sleep better that night; it helped me realize that I am not missing anything by not having a man in my life at this time. So please do not misunderstand or get the idea that I don’t like e-mail. Quite the contrary.

There are e-mails I hate though, and I will list them for you here in the hope that you hate them too and I will feel better about myself for being so petty.

Let’s start with the e-mails that promise that, “if you pass this on to ten people, good things will happen to you.” Even worse are the ones that say bad things will happen to you if you do not. I’m in marketing, so I understand that the strongest reason people buy is fear. Fear that there won’t be any left if they don’t act immediately. Fear that not having something will lessen the quality of one’s life. So I’m sure that on some subliminal level, the “bad things will happen to you if you do not pass this on” e-mails work better than the “good things will happen” ones, but either way I don’t want to get them. First of all I don’t believe in that stuff, but second, and most importantly… what if I’m wrong? Sometimes I do forward these e-mails out of fear that I might be wrong about the consequences of not doing so. but then I also recognize that maybe other friends and family hate them as much as I do. I imagine that when they get them they experience the same e-mail rage I do. They must think, if you were truly my friend, why would you send me something that says if I send this to five of my best friends a million dollars will walk in my door and shout, “I’m here. Finally here! Yay!” Talk about unfulfilled expectations. And as for the ones that say something bad will happen to me if I don’t pass them on within five minutes, if you were my friend you would realize that I might not have time to respond within the next five minutes. So now you have ensured that something bad will happen to me. Nice.

I also hate it when I send an e-mail and someone replies, “Thank you.” I realize that in life, if we are together, saying thank you when I open the door for you, is polite. I try to use my pleases and thank yous as much as the next person, but seriously, I do not wish to open an e-mail from you that says nothing more than “Thank you.” Does that mean I have to send you one back that says, “You’re welcome?”

And, then there are the e-mail replies that simply say, “Okay.” If I send you something asking you to PLEASE do something, don’t send me an e-mail back saying, “Ok.” Please. I assume you will do it or let me know otherwise. You do not have to say, “Okay.” It’s a waste of cyberspace, and let’s face it, the Information Highway is already the most crowded highway in the world.

Last but not least of my pet peeves is the ‘reply to all’ button. This button should be removed from all e-mail programs. Reply to all is not your friend. Usually those who reply to all are trying to show you one of the following things:

1. How brilliant they are. I’m so smart that you all need to know my opinion of what the sender sent.

2. I am on top of all things.

3. I am the most articulate person in the world.

So, that’s it. I feel better already. Just letting you all know how I feel has made the start of my week better. Please don’t forward this to everyone you know. They really don’t want to receive it.

Thank you.

The group came up with things like “don’t mistreat people,” “don’t lose focus,” “play hard but keep the puck down (what the heck does that mean?).” At the end of the day, someone said that all the phrases they’d assembled added up to “Don’t be evil.” Voila. Google had their motto.

Don’t be evil. Wow. A motto at one of the largest companies in the world that says, “Don’t be evil.” Remember when corporate mottoes were things such as “The customer is always right” or “Have it your way.” My how times have changed. It’s not about how to act anymore, it’s about how to be. The pressure.

I pictured someone coming into Google’s Human Resources offices and the conversation that ensues.

“You were evil today.”

“I know, I will never be evil again.”

“Two more evils and you are out.”

Always up for a challenge, I spent an entire day yesterday with “Don’t be evil” on my desktop, on a sticky on my office and cell phone, and in my notebook page for the day’s ‘to do.’ It was surrounding me. “Are you normally evil?” I hear you ask. Evil is a strong word, but I am often sarcastic, biting, exasperated, and add them all together and it could be construed as ‘evil.’ Anyway, I spent yesterday going out of my way to leave adjectives behind where someone on the other end might not feel fabulous. I was good to go until noon. Then something happened, and I became the person of biting sarcasm and forceful ‘are you kidding me?’ that is not in the Google motto mold. Looking back over the day, I am not sure it was the right day to practice not being evil. I am going to start over today. I think it could really work today because I have no scheduled calls or appointments.

I’m a Google fan. But, I do have one constructive thought for Google though. (Did you notice how I couched that in a non-evil way?) We are living in a day of positive positioning, so presenting what not to be is not as effective as presenting what you want them to be. A motto that says, “Always be nice” might work even better than the fabulous “Don’t be evil.” Please tell me you noticed how I presented my constructive crticism in a non-evil way. I could have said, “If you guys are so smart you would have known that it’s all about presenting what you want someone to do, not what you don’t want them to do. Sheesh, are you guys idiots?” I only point it out because I had to rewrite the sentence three times for it to come out that nice. I want you to see my efforts.

So, today is a new day, and I’m a new me. No longer an Obama Mini Me, the new goal is to be a Google Mini Me. Wish me luck.

When Buck met his demise at the hands of my Audi SUV, I did what was instructed and called the insurance company twenty-five minutes after the accident. Jan was on the phone without the usual punching of numbers and waiting.

“Hi, this is Jan. Have you had an accident?”

“Yes, I have,” I said, my voice shaking.

“Are you ok? You sound shaken up. Do you want me to call anyone?”

Huh? Insurance company? Not so much.

The long and the short of it is that I was given one person, Colette, who is assigned to walk me through my entire case. She has emailed me promptly almost every day since the accident. She told me not to worry. They will pay for everything except my deductible. She found the dealership hundreds of miles from Richview and made sure the insurance company pays for the towing. She actually called me later Saturday afternoon to make sure I was ok after it happened.

I was telling someone about it and they said they were sure that AAA farms out their insurance to other companies. I don’t care what they do.

My stepsister lost her 23-year-old son a few years ago when he had an accident on a dirt road in his car. She called GEICO. I will spare you the most painful details, but the bottom line is that when she called to get the insurance straightened out, they kept telling her that unless she had the paperwork or her son could come in, they couldn’t help her. No matter how many times to how many people she said he was gone, they just kept coming back with the same refrain. She said it was the most painful part of the entire experience.

So, in light of the insurance horror stories of old, I thank AAA insurance and urge you all to go non-profit for your car insurance. I only wish they had AAA for health. I would sign up for that as well.

So, I sat down to figure it out. Then I went to lunch with a friend from work, and he and I figured it out. I’m sure you will agree with our Email Pet Peeve list.

1. Do not send me emails saying “Thx” after I did something you asked. Does that mean I have to send you an email saying, “You’re welcome?”

2. Think carefully about ‘reply to all.’ Do you really need to tell everyone your response to the person’s question, or can you just respond to the person and leave everyone else out? I hate an email thread where someone has emailed me and ten others and all ten reply to me as well and the initial emailer. Email the original emailer and let them pass on your brilliance.

3. Each email should be about one thing. Do not put numerous questions, etc. in an email. If you have more than one question to ask me, pick up the phone. It really is faster. You remember the phone. It sits on your desk waiting for you to reach out and touch someone.

4. Do not send me things you think are clever. Truth be known, unless you are forwarding my blog, I’m not interested and usually I just wonder why you have so much time to forward stupid things. If, however, you are helping build my blog following by forwarding a particularly clever blog of mine, carry on.

5. Gus Levy, the deceased chair and founder of Goldman Sachs told me two really smart things. He said, “Christine, if a memo is longer than a paragraph, you do not understand the topic.” I have tried all through my business career to remember that. Please keep your emails short. He also told me, in case you were wondering, “Christine, if a meeting is more than a half an hour, the right people aren’t in it.”

6. Think about all the information you want to provide so you can avoid the following,

“Wanna have lunch?”

“Sure, what time?”

“Does 12:30 works?”

“No, how is 1?”

“One is good.”

“Where do you want to go?” And, so on.

Instead consider this.

“Do you want to go to lunch? If so, how is 12:30 at Christine’s In and Out. I will meet you there if it works.”

That takes it from seven or more emails to two. Think it through people.

I know I sound bitter. I actually am. I realize that the Internet which was supposed to simplify my life has complicated it big time.

Here are some interesting statistics to make the point.

If email was a country, its 1.4 billion users would make it the largest in the world. Bigger than China, bigger than the populations of the USA and European Union combined.

Every second, the world’s email users produce messages equivalent in size to over 16,000 copies of the Complete Works of Shakespeare (assuming a 30KB average email size). <Christine’s note: Not loving this stat. Really, Shakespeare? What does he have to do with it?>

In other words, we are all out of email control.

Here are my new rules for myself for email.

1. I will only touch an email once. I will open it and send it on its way, forward, or delete.

2. I will keep a list during the day of questions for the five people I email the most and call them in the afternoon and ask them the questions by phone. I will keep the call down to five minutes unless they have some fabulous gossip that I can’t resist listening to and confirming that which some wise person or other said to be true. ‘”Cutting someone else down is a false way of elevating yourself.” I know that I sometimes elevate myself in this fashion. I am a work in progress.

That’s it. The new Obama Mini Me is back. Lean. Efficient. Never overwhelmed.

Bye.

I was in the office of the CFO, the papa elephant in the office, when all of a sudden he looks up from the spreadsheets from hell in front of us and screams across the desk, ”You! Obama Girl! Golf carts! Do you have any idea how stupid that is?!”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” I said calmly welcoming the diversion away from my budget that is not looking so good. “Is there something about it that confuses you?” Who’s in control now, I asked myself.

He pulls out a piece of scratch paper and proceeds to scribble numbers – and percentages – and year dates on paper yelling something about how you can actually make money buying the golf cart. You apparently take out a loan to do it, pay off the loan for two years with the rebate and then sell the golf cart for a profit. Something like that. He lost me at the first stroke of the pen.

While yesterday I was a cheating felon (read my blog yesterday), today I am an upstanding, flag-waving American citizen who loves my government and golf carts that should be covered with decals of Obama and his family and friends. And, an American flag of course. I sat up straight and tall, and I held my own. I dealt head on and said, ”Listen up, Elephant Man. That is not the spirit of the plan. It’s for people who are not able to get around and for those not able to drive and to save energy by possibly not using fossil fuels. You remember fossil fuels. Those things that your president made a ton of personal money owning and profiting from. Besides, CFO Wizard, if you want to profit from it, why don’t you just buy the stock of companies making golf carts instead? And besides Marathon Man (He actually does not just run marathons but those things where you swim and ride a bike and run. Oh yea, Iron Man events. The man is nothing if not a sadist, but at least he inflicts pain on himself as well as others), ever heard of supply and demand? I assure you that by the time you go to sell your golf cart, they will be a dime a dozen, but be my guest, because best of all it will stimulate the economy.”

He looked at me. He has intense eyes, put his pencil down and waved his arms in the air.

“First of all, girlfriend, that stock ship has sailed, trust me. The cow is out of that barn. And, furthermore, stimulate the economy? Are you nuts? Oh sorry, Obama Mini Me, you are right.” He slapped his head with his hand. “Our economy is going to fly to the moon by the production of golf carts. How could I have missed it? Golf carts will save our economy. Thank God for Obama’s golf cart plan. Genius.”

“Well, corner office boy, golf carts alone will not, but coupled with one hundred other golf cart-type things, it will.”

“You want stimulus, I’ll give you stimulus. Give me back my taxes, and I’ll stimulate the economy. And it won’t be with golf carts!”

I felt I was losing ground. It was the first time that I actually felt that perhaps there is a point to the government letting us spend our money the way we want and let the economy be generated by our own personal supply and demand. I am not actually loving the golf cart plan. My aunt Nancy and my mother are thinking of getting them. Not so much. I see all kinds of problems; bodies strewn on the side of the road from cars hitting all the carts. And, let’s face it, it’s not money well spent.

While I’m still an Obama Mini Me, I am getting a little concerned about some of these things he is touting. I know the jury is still out, but sitting in my CFO’s office, I also realized that there are two real sides to every story and this one isn’t really swaying toward Donkey Land.

The CFO often reads my blog. But tomorrow, you Democrats in the group will be happy to know, he has a lower GI series colonoscopy and won’t be in so I think he will skip it. I’m sure you all hope everything comes out all right.

I think they need to start screening the conversations in the cockpit. Right now they only record the last 30 minutes of cockpit conversation. Record the whole thing. On the flights I’m on, I’ll pay for the extra tape. There are places in any company to save money. The cockpit conversation is not one of them. Put them on a website and let people go in and listen. If Big Daddy can watch me all the time, how come Big Christine can’t watch the persons to whom she entrusts her life during the hours they take her from place to place? I want to hear what they’re chatting about while flying me somewhere.

I have my theories about why these guys flying me around have arrogance quotients the size of Cleveland. (Sorry, Sully, you are not included in this). Let’s start with the word ‘cockpit.’ C O C K  P I T.

The first “cockpits” were actual pits in the ground constructed (to the extent that one “constructs” a pit) to house “cockfights” to the death between gamecocks (essentially very belligerent chickens). Cockfighting, a barbaric “sport” usually conducted for gambling purposes, probably originated in ancient China and remains distressingly popular around the world. 

As a name for the scene of such grisly matches, “cockpit” showed up in English in the 16th century. By the 1700′s, “cockpit” was being used as a metaphor for any scene of combat, especially areas (such as parts of Belgium and France) known as traditional battlefields. “Cockpit” was then adopted by pilots in World War I, who applied it to the cramped operating quarters of their fighter planes. Our modern sense of cockpit includes the entire crew areas of large airliners, which are usually fairly spacious and not, one hopes, the scene of conflict.

Need I say more? Does the word buckaroo come to mind? Buckaroo. Airline pilots? I dunno. Call me stupid.

Here is another issue. Put a uniform on a person and watch their arrogance grow with the power of their position. Nazi Germany knew that, so do the airlines. I can hear you all now, is she really comparing pilots to Nazis? Of course not. But, what’s with the stripes on the shoulders? And, I wish they would start off by saying, “Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, welcome to flight XYZed, where your pilot and co-pilot have seven stripes between them totaling 31,000 hours of flight time. They took a breathalizer at 08:00 hours and were well beneath the level for competent flying.” I think credentials matter. If we test football players randomly to make sure they deserve to have us watch them, shouldn’t we test pilots? Seems elementary to me.

I don’t want to write more about this because I have a flight in a week or so and starting my Valium medication routine this early before a flight could be detrimental to many things. Suffice it to say, I think there are many things that could be done to tighten up a bit guys. I will surely print this and send it to the FAA. I know they will want my ideas.