A Gold Star

I went to work the next day in spite of the fact that I was embarrassed by all I had to learn and would have preferred staying home with my pity party of one. At some point in the night I decided to take the bull by the horns and let the Nutjob know I was actually capable of a fair amount.

My routine was to go into her office each morning and ask if there was anything for me to do. She typically gave me a few craptastic tasks which were seldom difficult or time consuming. That day was no different, but at the end of her spiel I said, "You know, I can really handle a lot. I can do all kinds of different things." It felt like the job interview all over again and I was nervous saying it, but apparently it needed to be spelled out for her. I'd been asked to do very little that first week, shown even less, and had next to no training in the actual job I was supposed to be doing.

I think she knew what I was referring to because she got a bit nervous herself and started fidgeting with her hands and straightening papers on her desk. She wouldn't look at me, but mumbled that we'd need time to get to know one another and learn to work together.

Oh boy, I couldn't wait for the future considering how splendidly it was already beginning.



To my relief, the Nutjob failed to comment any more upon my incompetencies, at least to my face, and so we continued on in peace.

Too much peace really, for within two months I'd already run out of things to do and the Nutjob had run out of tedious tasks to give me. She solved this problem by loaning me out so others could give me their craptastic jobs to do. Something was better than nothing to do and already I could see this job was going nowhere and was just a way to collect a paycheck.

One day I was given a rather large mailer. There is nothing complicated about mailing envelopes, even if that means collating half a dozen sheets into packets and coordinating names on envelopes to the names on the packets. Even if it's 500+ envelopes and they're giant envelopes and it's thousands of sheets it is not difficult. Time consuming yes, difficult no.

The individual who was overseeing my collating and coordinating and stuffing of envelopes was a very nice gentleman who had very little faith in my abilities, perhaps he'd heard I had a lot to learn. We'll call him Calvin because you could always smell him coming due to the cloud of Eternity around him.

Calvin stopped in to give me pointers on collating.

Calvin stopped in to make sure I wasn't having a problem coordinating the names on the collated packets to the labels on the envelopes.

Calvin stopped in a number of times to see how far along I was and if I was done yet. I kept a running tally in my head of how far along I was by counting the rolls of stamps I'd used. It was really fun.

Upon completion, there was much rejoicing. An email went out to the department stating the mailer was complete and another would follow shortly. Calvin was kind enough to "Reply All" and let everyone know what an organized, stellar employee I was because I had successfully collated, coordinated, and mailed all 500+ packets - what a tremendous achievement!!

With kudos like these there was nowhere to go but up, up, up!!

[Insert sarcasm.]

If I were 10-years old, this would be expected, anticipated, and yes, maybe even an impressive accomplishment. At 34, it was not. I was a chimp, a one-trick pony whose reputation had obviously preceded her what with all the educatin' that she still needed.

If I had created a cure for cancer, I think excessive praise would be called for. If I had successfully made a presentation to a room of VIPs and made a kabillion dollars, again, excessive praise. But this, this was humiliating, and thinking about the others who would read that email was just plain embarrassing.

For me, the bar had been set so low that if I successfully limboed under it, it was nothing short of miraculous.

Ever underwhelmed people? Doesn't it feel FANTASTIC?! Do share.