Here in Canada, it's the small things that make us happy. I know the whole world thinks that we live in Igloos and drive around town on dog sleds with huge smiles on our faces. While we're not that simple, a good cup of coffee sure makes us smile. And the chance of winning something even sweetens the deal. We have this ridiculously large coffee chain up here called Tim Hortons - which co-incidentally is named after a hockey player - yet another thing that makes most Canadians happy (myself excluded...). You can win things like a donut or a coffee or a car or a big screen T.V. Or you get this,
I often joke that if there were ever a movie made about me (although in my wildest imagination, I cannot even fathom why there would be) the title, most definitely, will be, "Please Play Again." I just have bad luck. And truthfully, I've made one or two poor choices that have also led me to (please) play again.
I know I'm a little bit biased, but I really like me. In fact, I think I'm fabulous. I really do. I think I'm funny. I make myself laugh all the time. I'm kind to people, even strangers. I'm sarcastic, I'm witty, I'm smart. I think I'm the whole package. The thing is, not every body agrees with me. I've thought long and hard about how I was going to write this post. I mean, I knew I was going to write it, because we all know this is my therapy. All you poor saps read along for whatever reason. I write because it's cheaper than therapy and I feel so much better when I get everything off my chest. Having said that, knowing that others read it...it has to be a tad um....modified. For instance, not every second word is a curse, and I try really hard to remove the whiny, feel sorry for me air and replace it with a "when life gives you lemons" attitude. So...this is not in any way meant to make you feel sorry for me. I'm fully convinced that I'm going through a crappy time at work solely for one purpose; When I make it big, I'll have a I-came-from-nothing-single-mom-worked-the-graveyard-shift-to-support-her-kid kind of story. Woot, woot, yay for me, right?
I've always been kind of normal. Mediocre, really. Like in high school, I was in the 80 percentile, while all my friends were in the 95th. Except in math where I basically got through by the seat of my pants - but honestly, I have never, ever had to use calculus since I learned it. Anywho, there was always someone who was better than me. Smarter than me. If I got 85% on a test, you could bet your ass there'd be someone sitting next to me who got 95%. That's just the way it was. All. The. Time.
My first job, I was next in line to become an assistant manager until at the very last second the manager made up with her best friend after a spat and gave the job to her instead. Which was a total mistake, but whatever. At the airport, I applied for a promotion at the same time as my girlfriend, who started at the same time as me...and she got the job. I did not. Same airline, different job - another person applied and told them she was applying specifically so I did not get it - and she got it. Eventually, I moved up in the company, but it took me twice as long as everybody else. And not because I'm not smart. I am, dammit, I am. Smart, that is. Everybody else just doesn't know how fabulous I am, I guess.
Recently, I applied for a job within the company I am working right now. After about a week or so, I got a no-reply, cookie cutter e-mail thanking me for my interest, however I did not possess the "basic requirements for the job." Are you kidding me? Could they have stated it any differently? A little less cold, perhaps? How stupid do I seem to people? I don't possess the basic requirements? What? I can't walk and chew gum at the same time? (That's not true by the way....I totally can walk and chew gum at the same time.) I can't breathe in and out and pump blood through my veins while also creating new blood cells? Actually, I can. That's basic, in my mind. Can I do long division in my head? No, probably not. But that's not even in the job description.
And truthfully, I don't have one of the requirements. I don't have a post secondary education. But, c'mon people. It's the post office. No one has a post secondary education, unless the post office paid for it as part of a job advancement program. Then I find out (get ready to gasp here, people) that they have offered the job to people who have either the same or less qualifications as I do. Some were offered the job who have less basic requirements than me. And they were offered the job. As in, they didn't apply. They didn't even want the job. They were approached and asked to take it. Hello?????? I'm FABULOUS over here...
It makes me so angry, I could spit. And maybe I will spit. Sometime. When no one's watching. And maybe into a garbage or something. Because I think we all agree that spitting is gross and completely unsanitary.
Honestly, this is why I haven't started writing my book. I'm afraid I'll put all of my effort and all of me into it, and it will just be mediocre and no one will see how fabulous I am.