This year I’ve decided to give you (kind readers) a Valentine’s Day gift. I know it’s a few days late, but since my present is neither candy nor flowers (and won’t decay) I think the gift I have in mind will do just fine. I’m giving you a nonperishable story of a Valentine’s Day I experienced some thirty-five years ago. It’s a tale that I believe might help lift your spirits some day when you’ve done something—how does one put it?—not all that clever. Plus the story provides a nice reminder of the importance of keeping focused on what you really want.

It all started one Saturday evening when I suddenly realized that I only had an hour to buy my wife a Valentine’s Day gift. Since Louise was working on a project across campus (I was a grad student at the time), I loaded our six- and four-year-old daughters into the back seat of our Volkswagen bug, strapped our six-month-old son into one of those plastic baby carriers, and headed off to the nearest shopping center I could find.

Q: Dear Crucial Skills,

Our organization took a hit last year and many people were laid off. I was lucky to stay but now I feel overwhelmed by the amount of work and responsibilities that I’m required to do in others’ absence. I don’t want to look like I can’t handle my workload and I especially don’t want to lose my job as a result of my complaints. How should I approach this tricky situation with my boss?

Signed,
The Survivor

A: Dear Survivor,

You’re right to consider this a sensitive issue. If, when you leave this conversation, your boss thinks you’re ungrateful to be employed or a pain to have around, you have failed. Next time the ax swings, he or she may well say, “Hmmm . . . ‘Survivor’ seems to want a country club rather than a work place—let’s give him or her a LOT more free time.” That is clearly a bad outcome.