The name Albatross Administrative Services has a story behind it.
And no, it did not come from a peaceful branding retreat, a vision board, or me sitting around thinking, “What majestic bird best represents my administrative skills?” That would have been lovely.
It also would have been wildly unlike my life.
Years ago, my husband and I were both working, but we were hoping to find something closer to home. I had recently lost my dad, my sister was fighting cancer, and life was already doing that charming thing where it stacks grief, worry, responsibility, and regular adult nonsense into one emotional lasagna. Add on long commutes that make the day longer, and it was making for some pretty long rough days.
I wanted to be close enough to my sister that, if she needed me, I could stop by on a lunch break or get to her without needing a packed cooler, a road map, and a small survival team. Our state has many great roads, and none of them are convenient. For those who have driven three miles through a development to get across the ditch to your neighbors house I know you feel my pain.
Around that time, a local shrimp farm project was getting started, and hubby and I went to the groundbreaking because we were interested in possible jobs there. We already knew the marketing guru for the company, and he’d invited us and encouraged us to bring our resumes. That’s it.
We were not part of the business. We were not investors. We were not secret shrimp magnates. We were not standing in the background whispering, “Soon, the shrimp empire will be ours.”
We were just two working people hoping there might be a practical opportunity closer to family during a difficult season. Rumors were flying around town that the shrimp farm was going to be a real source of local employment, so it felt worth exploring.
And for me, it was especially exciting. My biology degree practically sat up, put on glasses, and started screaming, “Water quality testing! Aquatic husbandry! Finally, we have arrived!”
I had experience in water quality and had already proven myself pretty capable with aquatic husbandry. They were skills I had, skills I loved, and skills I had not had much chance to use professionally. So yes, I was hopeful. This felt like it might be my chance.
And hubby? My husband was bringing the brawn to the prawns. It felt like maybe this could be a good fit for both of us. This felt like it might be our chance.
We approached the owner, and I remember in our brief meeting I mentioned something along the lines that it was great he’d be hiring locally and we’d hoped to see him again as we were interested. A few weeks after that, we caught up with our friend in marketing and asked him how things were looking, if he’d been able to discuss employment. Only to find out the owner of the shrimp farm referred to us behind our backs as “an albatross around his neck.”
Which was a bold statement, considering we were mostly just existing nearby and hoping for employment closer to super sick family and we were ready to have something reliable and great to look forward to every day. It hurt. Of course it hurt. Cruel words usually do, especially when you are already walking through grief and worry and trying to keep your head above water. But it also struck me as almost impressive in its wrongness.
Because hubby and I are not “albatross around your neck” people. We are the opposite of that. We are the people who show up. We help. We carry. We do the thing that needs doing, even when we are tired or hurting ourselves, because someone has to do it and apparently our Gen X operating system came preloaded with “figure it out and don’t make a scene.” So yes, it was hurtful. But it was also ridiculous.
And because hubby and I are not revenge people — slightly sarcastic people, yes, but not revenge people — we handled it in our own way. We became Mr. and Mrs. Albatross. We plastered it EVERYWHERE, and I considered making a new resume with that title. I might have. Anyway–
At first, it was dark humor. A little “well, congratulations, you tried to insult us and accidentally gave us a company motto.” But over time, the word changed for me.
An albatross is associated with the phrase “an albatross around your neck,” meaning a burden. But the actual bird is known for endurance, distance, loyalty, and the ability to glide over rough waters without flapping itself into an exhausted bundle of feathered panic.
Honestly, goals. That meaning stayed with me and so did the lesson.
Sometimes people hurt us. Sometimes they do it carelessly, and sometimes they do it with full seasoning. But we do not have to live in the same frequency of the people who wounded us.
So when it came time to name my company, Albatross felt right. Not because I wanted to honor an insult, but because I wanted to remember that bad things can either make you better or bitter. I feel it was another way of making me better! What someone meant as contempt became something tied to service, steadiness, endurance, humor, and heart.
That is the spirit behind Albatross Administrative Services.
I know what it feels like when life gets heavy. I know what it means to keep going, keep serving, keep answering the next email, making the next call, handling the next detail, and doing the next right thing while the background chaos is playing drums. This company was not named out of revenge. It was named out of redemption. And maybe with just a tiny bit of Gen X side-eye.
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