Whoo hoo, the economy is finally picking up!
…Wait, really? It actually is this time? No no, I’m happy.
That’s great news. Really great. …You know, because of the obvious reasons: ambition and taking charge of my own destiny and stuff like that. At least, that’s what comes to mind immediately. Although, on second thought, I don’t know if my destiny really needs to be taken charge of. I think it may be pretty comfortable watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and not wearing pants. It’s not so much stuck in a directionless void as just resting there. And only last week it found the perfect cushion set-up for its couch in that void: y’know, when it doesn’t feel like the couch is quite swallowing you whole, but maybe like it’s holding you gently in its fluffly mouth. Like if you were a wounded sparrow, and your pillow dog best friend wanted to tenderly transport you to TV Land.
Am I intentionally getting off topic? No, of course not. I’m just talking about what my destiny wants. I, on the other hand, am not the biggest fan of finding the perfect balance of snugness and support for what I sit on. No, I’m more goal-oriented than that. Office chairs are more up my alley. In fact, I can’t wait to get back into the office and pursue my professional dreams. It will be such a relief to have take-home work — super goal-oriented take-home work — to distract me from the season 3 finale of Gilmore Girls on Netflix. After all, my future is more important than the struggling but genuine friendship between a single mother and her child as they support each other through a world that can seem both desperate and hopeful.
Isn’t this just like the economy, though? It is being a bit insensitive. What I mean is that I’m just worried about what the kids at work will say. Especially Kenny. Since I’m shift manager of the paint department at Lowe’s, he naturally looks up to me. When I tell him of all the myths and tall tales from my past office life — which I’m very excited to get back to, by the way — he hangs on my every word. Stories like of the time I stapled both ends of the client’s report as a prank, or of when I cleverly inserted the word “balls” into the same brief without them noticing. Kenny and the rest of the kids at work even have nicknames for me: they call me Poppa Paint and Paint Remix. Probably because of my near superhuman ability to flawlessly mix paint colors to specification. At least, so I’ve been told. One of my nicknames for Kenny is “son.”
I don’t know if he’ll be able to take it is all. He’ll be crushed. It’s not that I want to stay at the paint department at Lowe’s. I mean, why would I? There’s no challenge: it’s not satisfying being the absolute best in the surrounding Lowe’s corporate district at something that comes so easily and innately to you – almost like you were always meant to do it. No, everybody knows that dreams a little bit out of your reach are the ones you were meant to strive for. Like self-fellatio, marital bliss, and manual tinting paint using only 12 colors and pure instinct to make a gallon of a very specific color. Although, I guess I achieved that last one.
And I can’t tell you how liberating it will be to come home and not have an excuse to head immediately to the computer with a bowl of Beerios (Cheerios in beer), watch kitten GIFs, and then – after a few more bowls of Beerios – try to replicate the kitten GIFs with myself in the place of the kitten. Now that the economy’s taking off, my professional ambition can really pay off. I was fool to ever think that I could take the kitten’s place, anyway. I mean, now the only sane thing to do would be to take advantage of this economic upturn and the opportunities it will bring, right?
To be honest, I convinced myself this wouldn’t happen. You know the economy: it just goes up and down and up and down. But sometimes it doesn’t go quite as up as it does down. And maybe it goes a little sideways and then comes right toward you. And when it gets to that point, it usually, y’know, jerkily spirals a bit, and that’s exactly what I thought was going on. Because of my business background, the kids at work trust me on the economy. I tell them that it’s kind of like how people are always comparing it to a bear. Or a moose, standing in the road, not letting tax-paying, law-abiding citizens pass without running it over and reluctantly eating it for dinner. You get my drift.
But now that the economy is acting like a less stubborn animal – like a mermaid, or pikachu – I guess I should go dust off my resume, snapchat it out to some executives, and retire my title of “Paint Master.” Although, it is only one letter away from “Pain Master,” which sounds pretty daring, so I’ll just include it in my resume in case they’re skimmers. According to said resume, things I’ve always loved include: bringing bold and ambitious ideas to life, daring to be bold, bolding text to be daring, taking advantage of marketplace opportunities to deliver research-driven results, and cat GIFs – because I’m also fun. And I’d say all of that is super accurate (although my employers will never quite understand my connection with those cats). So watch out, economy!
Right after this bowl of Beerios and another episode of Gilmore Girls, that is.