It’s All Relative
The other day, I was copying and pasting parts of my resume online, feeling all ashamed of not having worked (or even contacted my references) in years. Shame is my primary impediment to growth sometimes. It’s that fundamental feeling of “WTF is wrong with me that I can’t do something so simple?” I am so Asperger-y sometimes that social niceties escape me altogether. Not helping. One problem I have is that it just feels sooooo good to be alone that it doesn’t occur to me how unsocial I really am sometimes.
Meanwhile, the TV was on, like it always is. Barry had it on CBS This Morning. Someone was talking about the labor market. It turns out that the economy is improving and there are more jobs. I credit Obama for the momentum of the recovery that Trump is taking credit for. Companies are having a rough time finding reliable workers, given the opioid epidemic. The new qualification for employment is to NOT be addicted to opioids.
I suddenly felt like a real catch! I am college educated and not hooked on anything other than caffeine. My crack house is Biggby, an East-Lansing-based chain of coffee shops in MI, OH, and some random other states. When lost in Maumee, OH, attempting to get onto the turnpike, (on the way to WV last year) I had never been so happy as to find a Biggby. I whipped out my Biggby card, got a mocha, and got directions. I rock! Compared to people hooked on fentanyl or heroin, I shine like the sun. And there I was, feeling routinely ashamed.
It really is all relative.