Maybe I’m just spent from doing all the other things I have to do. Or maybe I fight it because this is supposed to be my daughter’s job. Oliver is, after all, HER dog. But, for the life of me, I can’t seem to manage to train him. I realize this is not his problem – it’s my responsibility to be consistent. I’m supposed to crate him, to take him out to the same place each time to do his business, to take him on a walk every morning and every evening. I’ve read “Caesar’s Way.” The problem is, I can’t seem to bring myself to do it.

I don’t want to get up early to walk a dog. I want to sleep as long as I possibly can. I fenced in my backyard so I didn’t have to go out with him when he needs to “go.” (Unfortunately, he would go out but still preferred to use the bathroom indoors.) I even take him with me to work most days because I can’t bear to leave him in a crate for 10 hours. Again, my problem, not his.

At work, I’m self-motivated. I want to do a good job for my clients. I want to stay in business and earn a good living. I make “things to do” lists every day. And I do the most dreaded thing first so I KNOW I’ll get it done. Enter, my new hardwood floors in the bonus room where Oliver has traditionally had most of his “accidents.” Helloooooo, motivation.

I’ve decided, come hell or high water, I’m going to whip this dog into shape. I’m getting up early to take him for a morning walk. I’m taking him out on a leash to make sure he uses the bathroom where he’s supposed to. I’m crating him every time I go out. It’s only been a week, but he’s responding very well. Not one accident so far.

Seems I’m learning how to be consistent in training my dog. I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks.

I’ve been behind people in line at the grocery store who check out a buggy full of food without ever once talking to the cashier. I’ve heard people talking on their cell phones in stores, classrooms, cars, restaurants, bathrooms, libraries, even church. The drive through lanes at both my pharmacy and my bank now have signs in the windows that say “please hang up your cell phone before approaching.”

It doesn’t end with talking. At the theater, cell phone screens glow like lightening bugs as text-messaging-teens distract viewers from the movie. Instant messaging, Facebook, Twitter and chat rooms decrease productivity in almost every office. Daily.

My kids find it socially acceptable to text others while in a conversation with me. I’ve made it a rule at my house not to allow cell phones at the dinner table. I should probably carry that rule into the conference room as it’s becoming increasingly common for people to take cell phone calls or text in the midst of a business meeting.

It seems the cell phone has become an appendage that we cannot do without. We carry it with us wherever we go. And it controls us more than we control it. While I love the convenience and total access of my i-phone, I also like to disconnect from it now and then . . . like when I’m at dinner, in a meeting, on a date, in a conversation or on vacation.

No conference call is as good as a face-to-face meeting. And no text symbol can compare to a smile on someone’s face. So the next time our cell phones start making noise – in the store, in the office or anywhere else – I hope we listen to the person in front of us first.

A web site, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have a deadline. It can forever be pushed back. And, because it’s perpetual, it can always be added to, modified or refined.

Our first line of defense is to control this inevitable spread is our site map. We put a lot of time constructing the architecture. We organize the information in a logical manner and get client approval on this map before proceeding. Oftentimes, we have to revise our estimate at this stage (our second line of defense) – as clients frequently add more or change navigation.

Only after the site map is approved do we move into design. We get the homepage design approved and that sets the course for the rest of the site.

Like the Tarheels against just about everybody this year, we sometimes go through a few rounds when we begin designing the main navigation pages before each is to the client’s liking. But when we finally get there, the rest of the site should be pretty easy. The problem is, this is usually when clients remember things they didn’t think of before. “Oh, we need to add a page about XYZ.”or “What if we. . . “

That means another estimate. Nobody wants a new estimate so the negotiation begins: “Can’t you just add that one page/data capture/graphic. It’s really important to my boss, my secretary, my mom. . .”

And so the scope continues to creep. . .

We would love to make every website an animated masterpiece. Unfortunately not every budget allows that so we have to make tough decisions. Like choosing who will go to the final four, we have to define the end goals upfront and make every decision from there. Each addition or revision should be weighed by whether or not it helps the site meet its objectives. If a suggested change doesn’t help the site meet its objectives, it should be left behind like Butler left Pittsburgh in the third round.

With the increasing number of marketing dollars moving from print to online, ad agencies are creating banner ads instead of outdoor boards, web sites instead of brochures and Google display ads instead of print ads. The issue is, the banner ad specs are not exact from one web site to another. Each site on which a banner ad appears requires unique animation requirements. So the amount of work required to create a series of banner ads is much greater than the amount of work required to create a series of outdoor boards.

Take Google, for instance. Google prefers you provide eight different size options for each banner ad in order to maximize the frequency with which your ad will be served. So one banner is suddenly eight banners – and that’s just for one placement.

This is forcing agencies to change the way we price our work. “Programming” has become the new “printing” – a hard cost that we pass on to our clients. We estimate the programming costs based on the scope of the web site or the number of different banner ad executions. So while printers may be far less active these days, ad agencies are busier than ever. We just have to charge for this increase in work so, we’ll still be here tomorrow.

NOTE: The author’s NCAA bracket just fell to 86%. Luckily, her company is still running at 110%.

While we don’t all have a speech problem, most of us have something we’d like to overcome. Whether it’s a vocal problem, a fear of public speaking or just a condition – like a receding hairline, a scar or a weight problem – that makes us self-conscious, most everyone has something to overcome.

Obstacles are the rule, not the exception. And some are harder to overcome than others.

I once worked for a man who made King George the VI’s condition look like a cakewalk. This man had Tourette Syndrome, a neurological disorder characterized by repetitive, involuntary movements and vocalizations called tics. He cursed and flailed. Even handing me a piece of paper was a physical ordeal. He held it out and his arm moved up, down and around violently. I had to literally jump in and take it from him. Somehow, despite it all, he owned and successfully ran his own advertising agency.

What are the odds of that? Running an advertising agency is impossible enough without a stammer or Tourettes. But how do you win business, develop strategies, lead employees and run a business when your body refuses to follow even your simplest instructions?

He did it. Every day. And he wasn’t a monarch. He was a simple businessman with a lot of heart and determination. He didn’t have a speech therapist at his beck and call, but he had a loyal staff. And every member of that staff left a little wiser than s/he arrived.

So the next time you feel you’re not up to a task, think about the monumental obstacles you DON’T have to overcome. It might make the ones you do look a little more surmountable.

Her sudden inability to communicate inspired fervent communication within our family. Father, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends were calling and texting and i-chatting and visiting throughout the diagnosis. The surgery was scheduled. Surgeons sliced into my mom’s head, peeled the skin back from her face, chiseled out a circle on the left side of her skull (near the eye) and removed the tumor. Then, they put it all back together again.

The tumor was benign, thank God. And it’s gone for good. I hope the lesson, however, is not.

We get up each morning and think our plans are important. We think the work we do matters. We think our presence at every meeting is vital.

When you find out your mom’s (or your dad’s or your husband’s or your child’s or your) health is in danger, the meeting you thought was so important is suddenly irrelevant. Nothing matters except your loved one’s health.

When we’re healthy, we take it for granted. We don’t give it a second thought.

When we have a serious health problem, however, we can’t think about anything else.

It’s true what they say: Our health is all we have.

After the surgery, my mom’s biggest concern was that she didn’t remember what she’d gotten any of us for Christmas. She was worried that, in her unclear mental state, she’d confused or forgotten our gifts.

Not one of us cared in the least, of course. We had already received our gift: our mother was going to be ok. And, God willing, we’ll get to celebrate many more Christmases together.

So here’s to our health in 2011. May we treasure it for the gift it is every single day.

I feel a bit like a mouse on a treadmill, continually working but not really going anywhere.

Will I still be feeling like this in 2011? Will you? And, more importantly, does it matter?

Let’s look at the facts.

Fact #1: Money is a necessity. You and I have to work in order to buy food, clothing and housing. (Ever tried bartering at Harris Teeter? It’s frowned upon).

Fact #2: I am still in business – which is more than a lot of companies can say. We have survived the recession thus far. We’re making a profit. We’re doing good work. And, if history repeats itself (as historians tell you it will), this business will continue to grow.

Fact #3: I am projected to stay in business. I have business on the books well into next year. Yeeeee-ah! I’m pretty darned excited about that.

Fact #4: As technology changes, so does our business. So while the treadmill may not change, I do get to enjoy a change of scenery along the way. That keeps things exciting.

Fact #5: I still love what I do . . . so I don’t dread going to work. And I get to spend 8-10 hours a day doing what I enjoy.

The bottom line is, companies grow and shrink. Clients come and go. Money is won and lost. And while you may feel like you’re going nowhere on that treadmill, year after year, time keeps ticking away. Day after day, hour after hour, second by second — you get the idea. . .

So the question is, are you enjoying what you’re doing with the limited time you have? As for me, I’d have to say, “Hell, yeah!” And that makes my treadmill a pretty cool ride.

It’s not just my son who’s experiencing his share of disappointment this year. For many, two-thousand-ten has been another year of disappointments. If the recession ended in 2009, it neglected to notify most American businesses. Clients are still hesitant to spend money. A continuously evolving media environment is causing publications to close left and right. And, last I checked, people are still losing their jobs.

Not exactly “rainbows and butterflies.”

On the other hand, it’s when adversity strikes that we find out who we really are. For some, streamlining actually strengthened their organizations. The need to cut costs exposed staffing weaknesses. For others, current underutilized resources were used to improve future efficiencies. In our office, for instance, we used downtime to re-examine our processes, organize our photo libraries and increase office efficiency.

Some businesses’ losses were others’ gains. Home phone services are declining, but cellular phone sales are at an all time high. Ad media sales are down but interactive advertising sales are breaking records. Housing sales are in a slump, but low interest rates have created a refinancing boom.

Lemons, meet lemonade.

My son, who “lived” to play soccer, was initially devastated by his injury. After a couple of days, however, his attitude shifted from a sports focus to a focus on the future. He’s been studying his school work in the evenings. He interviewed and was hired to work at his high school’s campus financial institution. And I actually caught him studying for the S.A.T. – something he’s never done.

Turns out the right attitude can turn an athlete into a student, a loss into an opportunity and a failure into a success. So while 2010 may not be the best year for business, it’s certainly not the worst. So maybe those of us who are lucky enough to remain in business should take a cue from my 17-year-old son. Let’s quit feeling sorry for ourselves and make the most of it.

There are a lot of things in life I don’t get worked up about. I generally don’t care what restaurant we choose. Or what the best way to get there might be. I don’t care much for politics or politicians (regardless of their affiliation). I’m not concerned about the increasing mileage on my car. (After all, what good is a car if you can’t drive it?) I don’t worry much with housework and lawn maintenance. And since last year, I haven’t looked at my 401-k. After all, it’s already beyond repair and I’m clearly going to have to work until I die.

What I do care about is the work we do – every part of it. What it says, how it says it, where it runs, how it looks, how it sounds, how it’s built, who sees it, who does it, what response it gets and its quality, price and presentation. Everything matters when it comes to the work. It’s this singular focus that keeps our quality level high regardless of the medium. For the past seven years, our company’s goal has been to offer the same great quality work whether customers see it on TV, in a magazine, on the web, in an email, in their mailbox, in the store, or on a board on the side of the road.

We can maintain this quality level because it’s our sole focus. We should focus on public relations to increase awareness of our brand among prospective clients. However, much like the dentist whose kids end up with bad teeth, we inevitably spend the majority of our time working on our clients’ brands instead of our own. This isn’t optimum. We should market our own brand. But we won’t do this at the expense of our clients, so it remains a secondary priority. (It comes as no surprise that referrals are our best source of new business leads.)

I went to a business conference once in which we were told one could only successfully manage to be passionate about two things in life. If we are passionate about three or four things, the speaker maintained, we’ll fritter away our time trying to do too much with too little. And we’ll ultimately fail to achieve any of our desired goals.

I think this philosophy holds true. A business has to have a single focal point – a shared belief and mission that permeates throughout the company. Our belief is that advertising communications must be equally inspiring regardless of the medium in which they appear. We can’t create an inspiring website and then support it with uninspiring print advertising. The brand must be consistently presented across all platforms. This is our focus. Every project. Every hour. Every day.

What’s your company’s singular point of focus? Can you verbalize it to your clients? And, perhaps more importantly, can your employees verbalize it to you?

In the World Cup, Spain’s single point of focus was to score a goal. After a long, dull couple of hours, they succeeded. One point made. One goal achieved. What’s your company aiming for?

This mindfulness is what I love about yoga. I am rarely aware of the muscles in my feet, yet they carry me around every moment of every day. They’re not sexy muscles like the abs or the biceps, but they’re vital. They play an irreplaceable role. And I don’t appreciate them.

Just as I take these muscles in my body for granted, I take many things for granted in my work:

I believe my computer will start.
I assume my lights will come on.
I know my internet will connect.
I trust my server will be backed up.
I expect that my garbage will be removed.
I assume that the newspaper will be delivered.
I know that our empty water jugs will be restocked.
I take for granted that the phones will ring.
The recycling will be recycled.
The office will be cleaned.
The landlord will replace the burned out bulbs.
The mail will run.
The bank will open.
The printer will print.
Clients will call.
Strategies will be developed.
Ideas will come.
Photos will be taken.
Words will be written.
Ads will be designed.
Interactive work will be programmed.
Estimates will be given.
Work will be approved.
And bills will be paid.

That’s a lot to take for granted.

Now that it’s summer and people are taking vacations, it’s a good time to acknowledge all these services. Because while we may not notice these activities when they occur, we definitely notice when they don’t. And it’s much more gratifying to work for someone who appreciates your help than for someone who doesn’t acknowledge the role you play in his or her success.

Like the muscles in our feet, these silent supporters deserve our acknowledgement. So throw them an occasional “Thanks” this summer. Otherwise, they just feel walked on.

On a recent business trip, my colleague and I were getting our luggage off the long-term parking bus when we realized that someone had mistakenly taken his bag. If you remember the bicycle scene from “Pee-Wee Herman’s Big Adventure,” you know exactly what it was like: Millions of travelers buzzing by left and right, all pulling identical black bags behind them.

At that moment, I pictured those hundreds of black bags coming off baggage claim. A few would inevitably be marked with orange duct tape, purple ribbons or polka-dotted tags. I had always thought that looked ridiculous. Suddenly, it looked pretty smart.

As my coworker flew through the airport after his bag, I got the number off the shuttle bus as it rolled away. On the off chance that the baggage thief realized his mistake, we’d be able to tell him where he could find his bag.

Amazingly, as we were reporting the loss (and the bus number) to baggage claim, my coworker spotted his luggage. Someone had turned it in! We had just enough time to check our bags and make our flight!

Like the airport – our market is filled with seemingly identical products & services. But like each piece of luggage, every product or service holds unique features that set it apart from the rest. As marketers, our job is to identify each product’s unique point of difference and make that visible – without feeling like we’re sticking ugly orange duct tape on it.

My coworker’s bag had a small black name tag on it. It was subtle. But, in the end, it was that tag that made our fellow traveler realize his mistake. Would a bigger, bolder name tag have made a difference? Absolutely. But even the subtlest name tag was enough to alert the traveler in the end. The point is, you have to both (1) identify your brand’s point of difference AND (2) find a way to make that point impossible to miss.

That can happen in product design, in packaging, in graphics, in choice of media and, of course, in messaging.

So imagine yourself in the airport pulling your little black bag. What makes your bag different from all the others? How are you going to distinguish its unique characteristics? If you can’t find something distinctive about your bag, nobody else will either. And the only way it will get picked up. . .is by mistake.