recognition

In school, I was pretty much an all A student.  Not because I am so smart — more because I am competitive.

When subjectivity is erased from the equation, and quantifiable measurement is used as the criterion, I usually am at the top. That's why I am good at sales, and like it. The numbers speak for themselves.

I've always been vocal, and that has gotten me in trouble. I believe in the fairness of things, even though I recognize that life isn't fair. 

I get angry and speak my mind when, for example, the side of the floor where I work does not get go-back support and the other side does.

Or when I shouldn't be penalized for a return credit because a price-tag is mis-marked.

I know these are small, inconsequential things.  And still, they rile me.

I honestly believe that if I were a person convicted of a crime I didn't commit, I'd probably find a way to kill myself. The injustice of it all would make living unbearable.

I hate performance reviews — always have. I like constructive criticism, but since I am more critical of myself than anyone else could possibly be of me, I don't want another voice telling me something I already know. Or worse, something I don't agree with.

At work, for instance, I know what I'm good at. Selling. I actually love working with the customers, most of whom are grateful, respectful and pleasant. I love styling people. And finding things for them that they wouldn't have otherwise found. When I complain about the job (mostly that the pay is not at all commiserate with the enormous physicality of the job) and friends ask, "Why do you stay," I always answer: Because I really do like the selling part of my job; it's just everything else I don't like.

Today, I am going through emails, and see this, sent from my boss's boss's boss.

At once I feel like a pre-schooler getting that gold star. 

And though I might be a bit embarrassed to admit it, it makes me just a little bit proud.