I was
having a bad day, though at the moment, I can't remember why. Most
likely, I had worked myself into a funk over little things. It may have
been a bad hair day, or maybe I felt I'd made more than my share of mistakes. I
could have been embarrassed about something stupid I said or some public gaffe,
or maybe I was feeling left out or overlooked or frumpy. It was likely a
combination of several things, but the common thread in these "bad
day" triggers is a failure to live up to my expectations. Once I give in
to the nagging feeling that I don't measure up, a dark cloud gathers
around me, and all looks grey.
And it
was under one of those dark clouds that I found myself reverting to a bad
habit. As I let my mind wander at the end of this bad day, I started thinking
about my resume, the cool projects I had worked on and the volunteer work I had
done. I recalled treasured compliments and lingered over a mental list of
achievements. I'm not talking about huge, earth shattering accomplishments, but
merely things I could look back on and say, "I did a good
job."
I was feeling like a loser, and so I was seeking solace in
past successes. That is, until I realized what I was doing and gasped out
loud.
