I had a really great training class today, the clients were in-house, so all of my hand gestures became relevant, I regaled them with my best stories and recommended a few restaurants downtown. It was great. It was a job-affirming experience. And then I got back to my desk and found an e mail explaining that a case I (and several others, to be fair) handled in a less than exemplary way is now going to be trotted out as a learning experience for myself, and two colleagues.
Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. It’s pure science. It’s also purely crummy.
I know we all can learn from my mistake, but I’d enjoy learning from someone else’s mistakes every now and again. The fact is, and my boss admits it – a lot of our customer’s complaints were things we had no control over – but we’re going address the parts we can control and come away better people.
So. Great.
Tonight should be pretty laid back at the house. I don’t have a late shift, I don’t have to rush to Zumba. I also need to figure out something for dinner. I would sell my soul for some nice grandmotherly lady to drop a hot casserole off at my doorstep – I could pull together a salad, call it a night.
Days like this make me seriously wonder where I veered off course. I should be performing SRO* at comedy clubs all over the country, or on the NYT best-sellers list, or, or…well, NOT worried about a cranky woman in California ruining my professional reputation. Ruining it to people who ultimately don’t know that in theory, I’m funny enough to perform stand-up, or smart enough to be an author.
I went to my doctor yesterday so he could check my blood pressure, which was fine. I asked him a few questions about the tonsillectomy, and he started talking about learning to accept a “new normal”. I feel like I mastered that skill last year after Dad’s heart surgery. What I really want to know is, when will I enjoy chocolate again, and can it please be soon, because the holidays are fast approaching. He also suggested that I use this time to reexamine my relationship with food. Since he’s the man with the prescription pad, I didn’t roll my eyes, nodded pleasantly, and left with the magic scrips clutched in my fat little fist.
If you hadn’t noticed, my mood is a little petulant.
Also, I’ve decided that the phrase, “It is what it is”, is merely shorthand for, “This is shitty but we can’t admit it outright”.
I know, I know – I need to adjust my attitude.
And my bra straps.
Now where is that casserole?
* SRO = Standing Room Only - that's showbiz talk.
Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. It’s pure science. It’s also purely crummy.
I know we all can learn from my mistake, but I’d enjoy learning from someone else’s mistakes every now and again. The fact is, and my boss admits it – a lot of our customer’s complaints were things we had no control over – but we’re going address the parts we can control and come away better people.
So. Great.
Tonight should be pretty laid back at the house. I don’t have a late shift, I don’t have to rush to Zumba. I also need to figure out something for dinner. I would sell my soul for some nice grandmotherly lady to drop a hot casserole off at my doorstep – I could pull together a salad, call it a night.
Days like this make me seriously wonder where I veered off course. I should be performing SRO* at comedy clubs all over the country, or on the NYT best-sellers list, or, or…well, NOT worried about a cranky woman in California ruining my professional reputation. Ruining it to people who ultimately don’t know that in theory, I’m funny enough to perform stand-up, or smart enough to be an author.
I went to my doctor yesterday so he could check my blood pressure, which was fine. I asked him a few questions about the tonsillectomy, and he started talking about learning to accept a “new normal”. I feel like I mastered that skill last year after Dad’s heart surgery. What I really want to know is, when will I enjoy chocolate again, and can it please be soon, because the holidays are fast approaching. He also suggested that I use this time to reexamine my relationship with food. Since he’s the man with the prescription pad, I didn’t roll my eyes, nodded pleasantly, and left with the magic scrips clutched in my fat little fist.
If you hadn’t noticed, my mood is a little petulant.
Also, I’ve decided that the phrase, “It is what it is”, is merely shorthand for, “This is shitty but we can’t admit it outright”.
I know, I know – I need to adjust my attitude.
And my bra straps.
Now where is that casserole?
* SRO = Standing Room Only - that's showbiz talk.
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