Oh, hello there. Me here popping in for a quick entry.
Mom’s first time out of the house today since the surgery. We went to the Smilow Cancer Hospital for her post-op check-up. We managed to forget paperwork and lose a canteen, but otherwise smooth sailing.
We came home with yummy takeouts from Tolland Pizza and Big Y. The postman came by with two boxes of chocolate-covered strawberries from the Fronings! Mom got emotional reading the note. I’m really proud of her strength.
Husbometer is quiet today. Excited to return to David in time for the weekend.
I am sneaking in a few visits with family and friends tonight and tomorrow morning. Eager to visit with Olivia for the first time since the wedding! Mom is relaxing by the fireplace with Chloe.
I’m thinking about the moment you walked me down the aisle. I’m thinking about tomorrow. I thinking about the year behind us. A lot happened.
I just got out of the “synchronous” part of my online class. The class is called Library Planning, Marketing and Assessment. David and I squabbled after class. I was telling him about one of my assignments, and before I finished, he was telling me how to do it. I wasn’t listening as well as I could have been when he began talking. I could tell he was fueled by a stubborn passion and the experience of his own work in marketing. It’s possible that he said something to the effect of:
Find out where they’re spending money. Find out who’s seeing what you’re putting out there.
He disappeared back into League of Legends. I stormed into the kitchen and settled back at my computer.
I’m turning my thoughts to tomorrow. You’re going in for surgery to remove the trouble spots. I remember seeing them on the scans when we met that surgeon at Smilow.
I’m flying to California tomorrow night. I want very badly to be with you, and to support you tomorrow – as you have done for me my whole life.
I want to visit during your recovery, when Mitch has gone back to work and things start seeming quiet again for you. To help in any way I can.
Mom, you’re the strongest woman I know.
The trip to California is centered around a Saturday memorial for David’s Aunt Joss. The first time I met Joss was on a CD in David’s car. She was on piano. I met her in-person when she gifted everyone the last-hurrah trip to Paris.
David comes to the kitchen to reconcile. He opens with an apology for being mean and a hug.
You categorize it in terms of paid and earned media.
You measure it in terms of dollars spent and time spent.
Those are the two sections of your report.
And maybe you do a brand guideline.
It’s really that simple.
Here’s the dollars, here’s the time, here’s the output.
You don’t remember school at all? I say. He says no, and makes a comment about higher education. I invite him to see the very detailed 7-page outline of what’s expected for my final report.
He looking at the outline and getting excited again. He talks about spending time and money to earn media. He says,
“Marketing and communications is the study of paid and earned media.”
I ask him questions to get deeper and try to learn more. He perceives it as an attack on his competence and freaks out again.
He expresses feeling a certain way, and I ask him not to take that out on me.
I’m remembering the gist of a book I’m reading for work: It’s not what you say, it’s what they hear.
I would add to that: it’s what they feel.
I think this could be an important insight for my marriage.