Gallup-ing Towards Gratitude

The summer I was pregnant with Braeden, I was between years of teaching school and had a summer job working for Wirthlin Worldwide which was a company that did surveys over the phone...one tiny step up the food chain from telemarketers. I hated my job (morning sickness didn't help), but it changed me.

For one thing, I came to the conclusion that I don't trust surveys. The only people that would talk to us were crazy/lonely/sad/drunk/with no lives. I'm not going to let their opinions color my perceptions.

Another thing that happened is that I'm always really nice to survey takers that call me (not telemarketers, I hang up on them). I feel compassion for them and if I have time, I take their survey.

Last night Adam and Braeden were at scouts, Emma was painting pictures of flowers and Mark and I were working on the gift he was making Braeden for Christmas.

Charlie from the Gallup poll called me. He wondered if I'd take a survey. I said sure. I indicated with the rudimentary sign language I employ when I'm on the phone that I wanted Mark to stop painting. As is always the case (yet I persevere) Mark didn't get the sign language and blue paint was being slopped around. I took the brushes out of his startled hands and pointed to the phone. He shrugged and went to play with his cars.

You have my attention, Charlie.

He asked me about politics and the economy. I felt like I should give him Adam's cell phone number because he knows more but I don't think Charlie was asking out of a personal thirst for knowledge so I decided it was OK if I didn't have the "right" answers.

Next he wondered if I worked. I told him I'm a stay at home mom. He said, "So would you consider that working or not?" Oh, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie...I said I'd consider that working.

Then he had questions about health and wellness.

He read a list of diseases/conditions and wondered if I had any of them.

I said no and felt grateful.

He asked me if I had health insurance.

I said yes and felt grateful.

Then he wanted me to consider just the previous day.

He asked if I'd felt mostly happy.

I had and I felt grateful.

He asked if I'd felt mostly angry.

I hadn't and I felt grateful.

He asked if I'd felt mostly stressed.

I hadn't and I felt grateful.

He asked me how much time I'd spent in social interactions with friends including phone calls, email and personal interactions. I remembered delicious phone conversations with both sisters and one with Janet. I remembered chatting around a table with my friends at our Relief Society Christmas party at church. I remembered reading witty emails.

I said, "About 5 hours" and I felt grateful.

He asked me if I'd been unable to afford health care in the last 12 months.

I said no and felt grateful.

He asked if I had a safe place to exercise.

I said yes and I felt grateful.

He asked if there was access to affordable fruits and vegetables where I live.

I said yes and I felt grateful.

He asked me how many bedrooms I have in my house.

I said three and felt grateful.

He asked about my religion and wondered if I was "very religious" and attended church at least once a week.

I said yes and felt grateful.

Finally he said that his computer indicated that they needed people from my demographic to join the Gallup poll group and he wondered if I was up for it. (Do I fill the need for left handed un-athletic brown-eyed women? Maybe but since he didn't ask me any of those types of questions I don't know what kind of profile I fit.)

I said I'd be in the Gallup poll. He's going to send me a "welcome packet" and I can tell them if I'd rather have phone, email or mailed surveys and I can always opt out if I want. Well, yeah, I guess so since it's unpaid labor.

If all the surveys make me feel as happy about my life as last night's survey with Charlie did, I think I'll be compensated though.