Called to Order

By Lisa

I didn’t sleep last night, because I was at a board meeting.

It was held in my bed, by myself, except for four dogs, who took notes.

Here’s what I mean.

Little Tony decided he had to go to the bathroom at three in the morning, which meant I had to take him out, and long story short, I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I decided it was time for a Board meeting.

This is something I do sometimes, but not every quarter. The Scottoline Board meets whenever I can’t sleep, which is rare. I sleep like a baby, because I’m old and tired. My problem isn’t sleeping, it’s staying awake.

But the Board meeting is a good thing, because it’s how I figure out what I’m doing in my life. In other words, it’s my Board of Life, but not my Bored of Life.

Quite the contrary.

I feel lucky and have a great life, but it’s a busy time to be alive, for all of us. And I’ve found that it really helps me to set aside some quiet time and think about all the facets of my life, so that I can run it better.

God knows when I started doing this, but it was when I remembered how we used to say we were “leading” our lives, and I realized I was living a life, but not leading one.

I wasn’t running anything, and that was leaving me vulnerable to being run. I had no agenda, and I learned that if you don’t have an agenda, someone will have one for you. And it will be what they want, not what you want.

Remember, nature abhors a vacuum.

I abhor a vacuum cleaner.

Plus my happy-go-lucky life without agenda resulted in some really bad marriages, I mean, er, decisions.

So I realized that leading my life takes conscious effort and planning, and maybe some corporate overlay, but without the 401k.

This is where you find out that I’m crazy.

So what I do is picture a long, glistening mahogany board table, with me at the head.

Because I’m the boss.

I may not be the boss of you, but I’m the boss of me. Come to think of it, the Me Company isn’t a democracy, so really I’m Queen of Me.

For Life.

By the way, I did incorporate last year, when I named my company Smart Blonde, LLC., which is false advertising.

None of us blondes is dumb.

We’re not even really blond.

Anyway, then I visualize five women sitting around the conference table, and each is Head of her Department, of which there are five:

Family, Home, Work, Money, and Carbohydrates.

Obviously, in order of importance.

Next, each Department Head gives me a progress report, in order. For example, the head of the Family Department tells me that Francesca is doing fine, but doesn’t know if Mother Mary got her upright MRI.

Hmm.

I task her with calling Mother Mary, and I make a note in my BlackBerry, since I’m not sure imaginary board members own PDAs and I’m not taking any chances.

That’s the kind of monarch I am.

Next, the Head of the Home Department reports that we might need a TV in my office, since the old one stopped working two weeks ago and I’m paying for a cable box with no TV.

I consider this carefully because, between us, the Head of the Home Department spends money like crazy. She wants everything—new rugs, new sheets, more curtains, and a nicer comforter. She even wants a mudroom. The more money I give her, the more she spends.

I suspect she may have a substance-abuse problem.

The substance is chintz.

So I turn, metaphorically speaking, to the Head of the Money Department and ask her if we can afford a new TV. By the way, the Head of the Money Department is the only Department Head who isn’t me.

She’s Maria Bartiromo.

Nobody would trust me with my money.

Maria reminds me that we have rewards points burning a hole in our collective pocket and we can get a small TV, for free. I task the Head of the Home Department with ordering a TV, but she seems disappointed. She still wants that mudroom.

Told you.

I listen to the other reports, make notes, and end up with the Head of the Carbohydrates Department.

She doesn’t think we needed that extra piece of toast at breakfast.

What a bitch.

So I fire her.

It’s good to be Queen.