A ray of sunshine
Due to a circumstance that is both out and very much in my control, I’ve been feeling a little downtrodden the past week or so. Like I am in need of a good spit shine. And while this is true, the image just made me audibly gag. As a result, I implore the spitters of the world, both intentional and not, please do not take me literally.
At any rate, after another day of dealing with this troublesome 9–5 circumstance which shall not be named, I came home to this.
You know, true or not, feasible or not, correct or not, likely or not, this cover made me feel hopeful. I know there is a question concerning his lack of experience, and therefore his unavailable track record. And I don’t know as much about the man as I should. But I do know that he inspires something in me. And at this moment, that means quite a bit.
the tundra is my lover…
I love snow. But I can’t believe the first flakes came down well before any of us plunged our hands in the guts of a freshly-carved pumpkin! The woman clad only in a skirt and jean jacket on the Belmont platform probably agrees with me. It cold out! It not even real! Now we have to switch gears and adjust to “Polar Vortex” mode. May I suggest the following trouser selection for a good thigh-coverin’ this winter? I’m sure a certain person who contributes to “Smifs” (rhymes with Mollene) would wear these with pride. The following trouser comes in a variety of plaid and are 100% butt-scratching wool.
The secretest of secret pleasures
Do you know how much I love it when Meatloaf comes up on my iTunes?
The drama! The need for many exclamation points! Just look at this poetry!
From “Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad”
You’ve been so cold to me so long, I’m crying icicles instead of tears!
…
You’ll never find gold on a sandy beach
You’ll never drill for oil on a city street
I know you’re looking for a ruby in a mountain of rocks
But there ain’t no Coupe de Ville
Hiding at the bottom of a Cracker Jack box!
…
I want you
I need you
But there ain’t no way I’m ever gonna love you
Now don’t be sad
‘Cause two out of three ain’t bad!
Ah, it takes me back to the days of my childhood, rollerskating in my friend Jenny’s basement. Ok, now that I’ve outed myself as a complete and utter cheesehead with highly questionable taste in music, I think you all owe me a guilty iTunes pleasure.
Now, please.
My review of the new yearly review process
Two thumbs down. Way down.
Today my boss informed me that our company has a new review process. Or rather a new self-review form written by the President of the agency, who also happens to be a professor. The cynic in me was also assured this handy new form was not intended as a cruel form of torture, but as a vehicle to self discovery, through which I could reflect on my accomplishments, realize my true brilliance and celebrate the professional phenomenon that is me. I am copywriter, hear me roar.
Now, I have 35 solid years of experience reading through total bs, so I didn’t fall for this rationale for a second. No ma’am, my rose colored glasses weren’t about to be turned shit brown, because reality is my specialty and my Transitions lenses went dark the second I heard “self” and “review” had been joined in an unholy conceptual matrimony. Meaning I already knew what was waiting for me inside that Word document.
Here are a few intial thoughts: Drudgery. Beaurocratic nonsense. Waste of time. Waste of file space. Exercise in frustration. A whim to satisfy someone else’s curiosity.
And wow, I really underestimated it. It’s two full pages long, with approximately 20 questions covering every minute angle of my job. Each question is to be answered in full detail. Each question also includes a scale on which you rate yourself from 1 to 10. And in case you couldn’t adequately answer the accompanying question in the limitless amount of space afforded in the Word doc cell, below the scale is a Comments section.
Now, I’m not new to the whole self-review concept. And I know I am overreacting to this very common task that no one particularly enjoys (eeek. do they?). But considering my raise will probably not cover the time spent writing my professional thesis, I had to vent. I guess I just really have a hard time writing about myself. And I really don’t enjoy answering the same question asked eight different ways. It definitely begins to feel like one of those personality tests where they try to determine whether you are a psychopathic antisocial. Were you being truthful in #23 when you said you enjoy being the center of attention at parties, because in #86 you said you’d rather be alone than in a crowd.
So, with that said, are there ghost writers for this sort of thing? Because I foresee a freelance self-review writer in my near future.
using my crafting for good or evil…
I have an idea.
A T-shirt.
front: Namblapublican
back: Pedophile that under oops.
