Hello blog-reading world,
I will be making some posts over the upcoming months, so I thought it would only be proper to introduce myself.
My name is Thane. I am Annie’s less-better half—the yin to her yang, the peanut butter to her jelly time, the Simon to her Garfunkle.
Career-wise, I do a combination of marketing, consulting and analytics. It’s one of those jobs that is interesting to the job holder but not really interesting (or well understood by others).
Being married to a nurse is interesting in many ways. For one thing, I don’t put what I do in the same category as what Annie does. Although some of my clients might disagree, I don’t think helping companies get more money than they already have is quite as important as saving people’s lives.
When I have a bad day, it’s because a presentation went wrong, a project went off-track or someone was unhappy with work I did. When Annie has a bad day, people die.
I’m not belittling what I do, and, again, I enjoy it very much, but it’s good to be married to someone who has a job like Annie to help you remember what’s really important.
Quick funny story: I’ve noticed on multiple occasions a phenomenon when Annie and I are introducing ourselves to people at parties. Inevitably the conversation will turn to what everyone “does.” Annie will say that she’s a nurse, which will be met with nodding approval and smiles. Then they will turn to me and I will say I’m in marketing analytics. This will almost certainly be met with confused stares and forced smiles. Finally someone will break the awkward silence with a question like, “Do you enjoy that?” or a statement as awkward as the silence like “That sounds interesting” (which generally means exactly the opposite). Then, they’ll focus back on Annie and her career, which they think they understand.
Yes, Annie’s the saint in our family. I figure if I stick close enough to her, maybe I can get swept up into heaven on her coat tails before the pearly gates get shut behind her.
In my next post, I’ll share my feelings about adoption.
