March 27, 2022 | Dr. Amanda McKelroy
It’s not easy to work smarter not harder. Sometimes I don’t want to even try because new things are scary and I might not be good at them – and I hate doing things I’m not good at! Have you ever been so depleted emotionally, spiritually, and physically you feel like you could implode at the drop of a pin? To preface this story, that was me recently. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends and in the middle. Forget trying new things, I’ve been trying to simply survive.
A last-minute opportunity came up to fly to Colorado and teach a few courses for a company I often teach for in Texas. It’s quite an honor to be flown in to teach in another state. At first, I declined the offer, telling myself it was because I couldn’t take time away from my organization, though in reality it was because I hate doing new things alone and this opportunity spanked of newness. After running the idea past a trusted advisor and getting surprised when he didn’t confirm my decision, but rather told me I should go for it, I accepted the invitation to fly to Colorado and teach for a few days.
This trip had the potential to fulfill several purposes. First, I was getting paid not only to go teach, but all travel expenses were going to be covered. Second, while on the trip I learned that I would have some down time so I planned to work on a few writing projects that would be due soon and really needed attention. Third, just before the trip I received the information for the next college course I would teach in the upcoming semester. Yes. Finally, an opportunity to work smarter and not harder – I could be paid by 3 different organizations while on this trip if I handled it right. I would be flying to Colorado on Thursday evening and returning Saturday evening. But my class on Friday would only take a half day at most, so I had a whole half day to spend, and all the time waiting at the airport. Some of my best writing over the years has been done in busy airports. I could just sense the progress on my writing projects that was going to happen, and the awesomeness that I would experience getting to fly first class. I was filled with anticipation and excitement, while simultaneously being a tad anxious at the newness of it all.
To start this misadventure, I was flying out of an airport I’ve never flown in or out of and so I made a few mistakes. When I found the paid parking, I told the attendant I had never been there and asked for instructions. She gave me an aisle letter, told me big trucks must park on the fence and waved me on my way. Well, when I got to the aisle there were two options: left and right. There was also a sign that said “valet” with an arrow pointing to the left. In my scrambled brain I interpreted this to mean valet to the left and I should go right. So I went right and parked on the fence as instructed. No shuttle came by to pick me up, so I took off walking with my 2 check-on cases and backpack filled with books to read. I made it several rows before a shuttle driver almost literally ran me out and proceeded to inform me that I had parked in the valet area and must move. I was super embarrassed. So he took my luggage and gave me much clearer instruction on just which fence I should be parked at. After a few minutes it was all handled and was on my way to the terminal, a little red in the face and desperately wishing I could take a nap.
Once in the terminal, I attempted to check in and check my bags but learned I had made a horrible mistake and had booked my flight for the same weekend next month! Once again, I found my face flushed with embarrassment and the weight of being exhausted was crushing me. The very kind lady helping people check in took excellent care of me and after consulting several co-workers and a very long phone call, she figured out how to get my flights changed to the correct dates and at nearly the same times. Whew. Disaster averted. Sort of. It cost me $311 since the mistake was all mine. So much for an all-expenses paid trip. I was just glad she was able to sort me out so I wearily and as happily as I could muster, paid the nice lady.
After several delays and a gate change or two, I made it onto the plane. I’ve only flown first class once, and that was an international flight in Asia. This was a very different experience. When I originally picked my flight and seats, I picked a seat a few rows back so I would be able to observe and know how to act. When the nice lady changed my flight, the only seat available was the very first aisle seat on the plane. We got settled and made it through take off without incident, but once we leveled off and service started a few things went a tad wrong. First, I didn’t know they give you real glasses and unlimited refills on beverages. I asked for the can of my favorite airplane beverage: apple cranberry juice. I got a weird look from the flight attendant, but she gave me my can and even opened for it. I settled in with my music playing through my earbuds and a book in my lap. A few minutes after we got our beverages, she came back and started to put a box with shrink wrap on it in my hands. It took me by surprise, and I quickly gave it back and said I didn’t want anything. Once again, I got an odd look, but she didn’t argue. She simply handed one to the gentleman beside me, and then to the couple across the aisle, and then to everyone else in first class. Still not understanding, I discreetly waited for everyone else to open theirs to see what on earth she was giving out. I was trying to decide it if was worth flagging her down and admitting I was wrong. Turns out it was a box of food! Oh boy was I wrong! I got her attention and told her I didn’t understand and would like one after all. Thankfully the look I got this time was sympathy, or maybe pity, it was a little hard to tell. But I got my box of food, and it was worth it.
When I arrived at the airport in Colorado, I knew I would need to get either an uber or taxi to the hotel. I had never gotten an uber before and wanted to try it, but when I walked outside, I couldn’t figure out where they would meet me, and I got insecure. There was a taxi line, so I took the easy way out and went to a taxi. Not my best decision. Once we got on the road and the driver started to talk to me, the smell of alcohol on his breath was overwhelming. It was a half hour drive to the hotel, a very long half hour drive. The hotel was the Hilton, and oh my it was so fancy! I arrived in the evening and there were beautiful people everywhere! I’ve never seen so many beautiful people before as I did on this trip. I waited in line and met the very nice desk lady. She could tell I was a little out of place and immediately took me under her wing. She eased my fears about being a fish out of water… everyone else was in business attire and I was in jeans with my belt buckle prominently displayed. I told her I’d never stayed anywhere as nice as the Hilton and didn’t know what to expect or what was expected of me. She gave me the run down and sent me on my way with a bag full of water (so the poor Texas girl wouldn’t dehydrate).
Friday morning’s class went great. We had a good time and got done early as I expected. I got my stack of study material and found a place in the lobby to camp out and work. By mid-afternoon I was in desperate need of a mental break and really wanted to go for a run. I asked the desk lady where I should go, and she told me about a path that winds around the property that was perfect for running. I confirmed with her where it started, left my glasses at the counter (I can’t see without them, but I don’t run with them on), and was on my way. About half mile into the run, the path had taken me around behind the hotel, through the garden terrace, and stopped at a parking lot where the golf course started. I assumed that was where I was supposed to go so onto the path I went. Now let me share a little TMI to set this part up… I am a little chubby right now and am super self-conscious about it. Also, I wasn’t joking about all the beautiful people, so I was extra self-conscious at that moment, and the terrace and golf course were full of said beautiful people. Okay, back to the run: I set off on the cart path, careful to stay to the side in case someone needed to pass. I was finding my groove and starting to really enjoy the run and the scenery when a cart whizzed up to me from behind and stopped beside me. It startled me when it stopped. The driver was an older gentleman. He asked me; “Where can I give you a ride to?” I stopped and said, “Nowhere” with a look that said bug off I’m obviously running here. He replied, “You don’t understand, I’m going to give you a ride, where would you like me to take you?” Hmmm okay, this guy wasn’t going away so I clicked off my music and stopped my running app on my phone and stared at him for a moment, trying to process what was going on – while all the pretty people watched. He then began to mansplain golfing to me. With hand gestures and all he said, “You see these guys out here? They’re hitting little round projectiles…” Which I rather harshly interrupted with, “I know what golfing is!” He proceeded to explain that people have been hit on the cart path before and he didn’t want me to get hurt. I was beginning to realize my option was to either get in the cart or walk back through all the pretty people who were no doubt staring at the exchange. I opted to get in the cart. As soon as I did, the flood gates opened an I was sobbing. He asked me how far I was wanting to run so he would know where to drop me off. I couldn’t even get out the words “three miles.” I just held my fingers up. After the longest cart drive in the history of cart drives… he dropped me off at a road and said just run up the sidewalk and around the corner and you’ll be back. It was the bottom of a gigantic hill! So, trying to preserve what little dignity I had left, I muttered a thank you and stepped out of the cart and took off running again. Yeesh. I seriously just bawled like a schoolgirl in front of the cart dude. You have got to be kidding me. I got back to the hotel after 2 miles of hills and was feeling good. I waiting near the desk for the lady to help an older couple check in so she could give me back my glasses. From what I could see (they were very fuzzy) the lady was looking at me very concerned as I stood there with hands on hips and worked to catch my breath. The desk lady handed me my glasses, and I thanked her and slipped them on, smiling at the older lady checking in wondering why she looked so concerned. I asked for a bottle of water and the couple both gave the desk lady a look as if to say, “Come on, help the girl out!” I took the bottle and proceeded to my room where I looked in the mirror and realized my face was literally beat red from the elevation and running. No wonder the lady was looking at me so concerned. Sigh.
After my strenuous run, I was able to get more studying done and was thrilled with the progress, just as I’d hoped. But I also was starting to realize that I’m in worse emotional shape than I had let myself admit to. There’s really no excuse for crying in front of the guy who was just trying to keep me from getting hurt. Thankfully I didn’t see him again. Saturday morning’s class went well and got packed up and ready to go. After the taxi driver experience, I decided to give uber a try. The doorman was very nice and helped me learn how to do it. I told him about the taxi driver and the alcohol breath and that I was nervous. (The doorman was about my age, super tall, and very handsome, with no wedding ring!) I probably overshared, but I do that when I’m nervous. The uber showed up and the doorman loaded my bags and greeted the uber driver. Then he walked over to me, bent down and whispered, “I don’t smell any alcohol. I think you’re safe with this one.” It was so sweet and kind I blushed and ducked into the uber. Back to the airport, through security and to the correct gate I went with just enough time to grab a snack on the way and have just a few minutes to spare before boarding.
The flight back I was feeling much more confident in my first-class seat, at the back of the section. I was settled in again with my music playing and a fresh book to read. The next thing I know there is a hand shoving a disposable mask in my face and talking at me without waiting for me to look up or click off my music. When I did click the music off and look up, very startled since I was wearing a mask, the flight attendant was telling me in a very condescending manner that the mask I was wearing was not allowed so she brought me one to wear. I took it, rather stunned, and feeling my face heat up with embarrassment. The interaction was harsh enough that the lady across the aisle was even startled. When the flight attendant came to take our beverage order a little later, I was deep into my book and without thinking I again asked for the can of my favorite juice. She brought it to me, and then I noticed that everyone else had real glasses with their beverages. Every few minutes she walked the aisle and asked everyone in first class if they would like a refill, except for me. Even after the can was thrown away, she did not again ask me if I wanted anything, she ignored me instead. I realized too late that I was apparently not acting in first-class manner by asking for the can.
So many things with that trip turned out to be misadventures. But there were also several things that were wonderful. I met some amazing ladies at the Hilton who made the stay fun and who taught me what was appropriate. I got a full half day of study that was highly productive, despite the running mishap in the middle of it. And I got to unplug emotionally and mend for a few days. I ready 3 books on the flights and learned several things from them (which we will save for another time). I also finally succeeded in working smarter, not harder, and generated income from 3 different companies on the same trip without feeling like any of the three weren’t getting their full monies worth.
When I was at college working on my undergrad degree, the dean of women would often scold me for working harder when I should be working harder. I always prided myself in being a hard worker and didn’t quite understand what she was trying to convey to me. I feel like despite the misadventures of the trip, she would be quite proud of me if she knew all that I accomplished on that trip.
Working smarter not harder is harder than working hard. Let me explain. Maybe you won’t relate to this, but I hate to do things I’m not good at. And most of us aren’t good at new things. I also don’t like trying new things alone, mostly because I want the security of someone else to do it with me. But sometimes in leadership, we must be willing to strike out and take the opportunity to try something we haven’t tried before. It may not be what we hoped, or it may be so much more – we won’t know until we try. Working smarter is not easy and can be scary, but it can also be very rewarding. I’m glad I was willing to try new things, even though I wasn’t very good at them. Next time I get an opportunity to be flown somewhere to teach, I will be better equipped because I learned a lot this time around. I hope you won’t avoid something new just because you might not be good at it, or because you may have to do it alone. Jump on in and give it a try! Tonight, I can laugh about the misadventures that happened on my trip to Colorado, even though I was crying about them at the time. I’m a better person today for the experience, and I’m very glad my advisor told me to take the leap.
