The wound is still fresh, the pain still very real. I put on a brave face at work but I often find myself in bed at night, staring up at the ceiling and thinking, “What if?” Such is the life of a Baltimore Ravens football fan.

February means different things to different people. Some people think of Valentine’s Day. Others think of Presidents’ Day. For NAAEI, February marks Apartment Careers Month, which is when we remind others of the exciting job opportunities offered by our industry.

I saw a discussion group regarding the Net Promoter Score (NPS). Like many in the CRM field, I question the value of Fred Reichheld’s highly disputed NPS Harvard Business Review article “The Only Number You Need to Know.”

The day your first child is born, everything changes. Colors get brighter, the world gets bigger and your heart explodes with an unconditional love you didn’t even know was possible. Such was the case on that emotional day last June when I held Señor Peepers—a prairie dog I adopted in Utah—for the first time. I signed the papers, cradled my baby and felt an incredible surge of joy I hadn’t experienced since my first Dairy Queen raspberry truffle blizzard many moons ago.

Growing up, I loved two things: eating obscene amounts of Gushers and reading books. In addition to my love for literature (and processed food), I had an English teacher for a father who corrected me every time I said “me” instead of “I” and an uncle who used words that haven’t been around since the 17th century.

I sobbed hysterically when my parents dropped me off at college freshman year, so much so that my contact lenses were covered with bits of errant tissue fibers. This sentiment apparently was not felt universally on campus, as literal hoots and hollers could be heard from nearly every other one of my classmates who finally felt free.

I was listening to The Fray this morning and one of my favorite songs of theirs (though I really do like them all) is You Found Me. It got me thinking about "who I am, who I'm not and who I want to be" and how easy it is to not really know; especially in a business that wants you to be many things. It’s easy to lose yourself. Sounds ominous, right? It really isn’t—it’s about self discovery and your true professional passion.

My family doesn’t have the best phone etiquette. As a child, I was so petrified of calling people that I would write out exactly what I wanted to say ahead of time and recite my lines repeatedly before dialing. Once I was finally confident enough to ad lib, my mother saw fit to secretly listen in on my conversations. One night, when there was apparently nothing good on TV, I could hear her and my brother, Chris, laughing on the other end of the phone.

It’s that time of year again. Time to gather the family around the proverbial Yule log before mocking that 14-page holiday letter you get every year from those family “friends” you can’t stand. Time to watch your mother have a meltdown when she realizes the mashed potatoes she made for the Christmas party are the consistency of paste. Time to repeatedly tell your family members that you would rather they not blow noisemakers in your ear for a full five minutes before the ball drops on New Years Eve.

Do you remember the movie, “Glengarry Glen Ross?” If not, I suggest you get it and watch it immediately Alec Baldwin’s character, Blake, makes a statement that has resonated with me to this day.