Yup, this is tough

That's been my thought off and on this week. More off than on, happily, but it's still a struggle: Sugar is everywhere, and cutting it out of a diet is a time-intensive, detail-minding task.

Probably most frustrating so far, however, is that there are no results to really speak of so far. Sure, I know it's only been 48 hours, so obviously I'm not shedding inches yet. And while I do feel a bit more energy as I go about each day, I'm not overwhelmed by "healthy" vibes. Yet.

I've only got 22 hours left in this round of the "cleanse" -- and I'm already pondering a "Part Deux" for next week. Should I start Saturday? Monday? (Sunday's a cheat day, no matter what, in my opinion.) I'll see how I'm feeling.

"Lean In," Part 2 (or chapters 3 thru 6)

It’s OK to Cry in the Bathroom

(Or, apparently, in front of your boss.)

One of the thing’s I don’t like about discussions of women in business is that there tends to be some sort of “be more like a man to succeed” thread in them. We’re often taught that being successful is being aggressive, outspoken, bold and, relevant to today’s review, buttoned up -- and while these qualities aren’t limited to men, society seems to perceive that men exemplify them.

Sandberg does, I think, a great job of illustrating this -- and, I think, of arguing, however subtly, that business might be better if we also embrace the strengths of a woman’s personality.

For instance, showing emotion. Yes, even crying.

Let me say, upfront, that I’m not advocating a tissue-holding sob fest every week at the office. But wouldn’t it be nice if we could regard the occasional cry as a simple fact of everyday life, as some of the workers featured in “Lean In” seem to?

When I was just starting out in my newspaper career, I moved between internships every few months. During one such transition, I had a mini-breakdown. I was exhausted from (yet again) packing up my belongings and saying good-bye to everyone I’d just met -- and, worst of all, I was suffering from a major case of writer’s block. I had only one assignment left to finish, but I just couldn’t pull it together. It was a professional crisis, but one completely blurred by my personal struggles around moving.

Worst of all, my editor -- who I can now see was up against pressures and deadlines of her own -- was bearing down on me, insisting I finish the piece, sprinkling in the type of fear-inspiring “or else!” statements that are so common in newsrooms. (That’s a post for another day on another blog, I’m sure.)

I was on the verge of cracking for a day or two, and then I finally did -- in my editor’s office, during another round of “When is going to be done?” questioning.

The thing is, though I don't cry often -- or perhaps because I don't cry often -- I didn’t think this was so unusual. That is, I didn't until someone else made a comment along the lines of, “Oh, it’s never a good idea to cry in front of the boss.”

What was the big deal? I was upset, needed sleep (my time management skills, believe it or not, were even worse in those days, resulting in all-night packing expeditions each time I moved) and I was truly frustrated that I couldn’t pull that last piece together. Of course I cried!

I hated that this was seen as a sign of weakness. Women do cry, and I’m glad of it. Someone should! It shows that we’re plugged in, that we’re connected -- and often, that we’re striving to do good.

During a more recent transition, I broke down -- in private this time -- over my laptop one night. I was completely overwhelmed by new partnerships at work, new client relationships and new responsibilities -- and I was alone, in a hotel room, on a business trip. I was feeling like I must be the only one who couldn’t handle a new role until a coworker, also dealing with new responsibilities, chatted me to ask if we could go for a walk: She was crying, too!

Were we bad at our jobs? No! In fact, I was promoted just a few months after that mini-breakdown. But I was intensely frustrated by my job -- to which I am, in turns out, intensely connected. No one was harmed by the tears I shed that day -- and, in fact, I was probably helped by them. In admitting I was overwhelmed, I was able to connect with a friend -- and we worked together to sort out what we were individually struggling with.

Along with Sandberg, I hope that companies will continue to encourage workers to bring their whole selves to work -- emotions and all, men and women. Who wants to work in an stodgy, dry place where no one ever gets upset?

A no-sugar gift to self

Well, it's that time of year again. This Friday, I celebrate my "golden" birthday, turning 31 on the 31st. (Nifty, huh? I only just realized this.)

Last year, on the six months running up to my 30th birthday, I went through a major revisiting of my life: my career, my hobbies, my apartment (which I redecorated) -- pretty much everything except my love life (still very happily married to my husband of nearly three years). I was on my best behavior: Dressed up for work each day, eating well, exercising, organizing my "free" time so that I could write and craft my heart out. I was a woman on a mission.

This year, I find myself in an odd situation, having accomplished several of my missions. I've written. I've traveled. I've spent enough energy (and money) on redecorating for now. I've even found a new role at work! Now I want to relax -- and not like a drink at happy hour or a picnic outside. We're talking wanting to wear yoga pants to work everyday, wanting to eat junk food whenever I so please and wanting to watch TV and read books as much as my little heart desires.

Not all of these things are necessarily bad, of course. I work at a tech company, where yoga pants are acceptable (if not exactly great for career progression), and reading is an arguably healthy habit (if it doesn't result in spending all day in bed in PJs). But overall, I'm leaning on serotonin binges. It's not healthy. I've spent the last month of my 30th year being a little lazy and, yes, gaining a little weight. It's not a trend I'd like to continue.

So as a birthday gift to self this week, I'm spending the last three days of my 30th year on a sugar cleanse. I'll hate everyone for the next 68 hours, but I think it'll be worth it. I did this successfully only once before, when I was trying to figure out what was upsetting my tummy by following a strict "elimination" diet for 10 days (read: rice, veggies, lean cuts of chicken) -- and I felt amazing when I was done.

This week I'm just focusing on no added sugars: no corn syrup, no brown sugar, no raw sugar, no agave, no honey. I'm allowing myself to have fruit (baby steps, people!) and dried fruit as needed in "crisis" mode. It sounds, on paper, like not a huge step -- but if I listed out all the added-sugar foods I'd had in the past three days, I'm sure most of you would be horrified. I know I am.

Three days isn't quite enough, but I'm not going to kid myself about this weekend. I fully intend to eat birthday cake and drink birthday cocktails (or at least some champagne) to celebrate. But maybe after getting my sugar surges out of my system, I'll be able to get through the festivities with fewer slices of cake -- and in, or at least en route to being in, my favorite jeans.

And perhaps that will be enough inspiration to continue.

A no-travel week

This week marks a pedestrian but exciting landmark for me: If all goes well (so far, so good), I'll spend the entire week in San Francisco, something I haven't done since before Christmas. In each of the weeks since late December, I've either been on a plane or spent a night away from home -- and, most often, both.

Don't get me wrong: I love traveling. I can't imagine having a job I didn't travel for, and I certainly lobbied for the seven weeks off to travel around India. But I live in one of the most amazing cities on earth, and it's been nice to have a few nights just to sit here and enjoy that.

And enjoy it I have. I had wine and cheese and dinner with friends, watched Sunday evening TV at home with my husband, went to my favorite yoga class. I've worked two full my days in my own office, taken lunch and coffee breaks and biked and walked to work, just like any normal week. We even had stunning weather in San Francisco today -- with temps into the 70s of all things -- which made it all the better.

Too often, I find myself wondering, "What's next?" when things right here, right now, are just amazing. It's one of my life lessons from the past year that I need to enjoy what I currently have more, and to start worrying less about what lies ahead.

Maybe I can focus on being just as content as this cat I saw on my way home tonight. Cheers to that.

"Lean In," Part 1 (or chapters Intro thru 2)

I started this blog with reviewing articles, rather than books, in mind. But as I've already got things to say about Sheryl Sandberg's "Lean In: Women, Work and the Will to Lead," I'll start with that.

Maybe it's that the workplace improved drastically between the time Sandberg entered it and when I did. Maybe it's that I work for Google, where I enjoy changes made early on by women such as Sandberg (who it turns out requested the expectant-mother parking that dots our Mountain View campus). Maybe it's that most of the managers in my career, in and outside of Google, have been (incredibly smart and talented, by the way) women, from my first two professional editors right on up to my current boss, who holds degrees from both Stanford and Wharton.

Or maybe it's that I see the book as an opus to an eventual run by Sandberg for political office. (And that I dislike construing the English language, as packaged in books, as a stepping stone to such adventures, however noble.)

Whatever the problem, the book's simply not ringing true so far --  in part, at least, because I feel a serious lack of discrimination as a woman. Sure, I agree that women still aren't on an equal footing with men in most of the world. When I travel for work, I'm very often the only woman on the shuttle from the airport to the adjoining car rental shop. And as one who's recently returned to the United States from India, I can confidently say we U.S. ladies have it better here than in other parts of the world. But I fail to see the point in continuing to crow about the plight of women -- especially when there's such a strong contingent arguing for equality.

Instead, we ought to just get out there and do something about it.

Growing up, I learned from my Mom that women can do anything men can do -- better. In my family, women helped out with the woodworking, the painting, the gardening, the literal heavy lifting. In my high school, no one ever said, "She's such a bright student, especially for a girl." All the student leaders were women: drum majors, student government heads, stage managers for the annual musical -- women all, at one point or another during my time.

I've been unprepared at times for the roles I've taken on. I was often overwhelmed with possibilities and distractions in college, although I couldn't see it then. I could have used some additional career coaching ("How to Manage Up," for instance, might have been a good course) early in my newspaper days. I didn't know much about Silicon Valley when I interviewed at Google, and I'm still learning how to continue growing my skills in an industry that changes daily (if not hourly). In none of these moments, however, have I felt that my growing pains were due to the fact that I'm a woman.

Maybe the rest of the book will get to the how-to portion of effecting change as a woman in the workplace. For once, however, I wish we could have started without the endless list of data points -- and consequent confidence-reducing emotional reminder -- of how poorly women are represented in today's world.

Oh and one last thing: I was surprised to see that Sandberg dedicated the book to her husband for "making everything possible." Isn't this the same kind of rhetoric she's trying to turn us away from? I love my husband, but my success is my own.