It’s the American way, right? The old Protestant work ethic that has hemorrhaged it’s way into the lives of us 99 percenters?
But, acknowledgement, recognition, kudos for a job well done…it’s nice to hear, isn’t it?
I expect perfection from myself (I’d be a pretty shitty Type A otherwise), but I must say I’m always pleasantly surprised by pats on
the back from colleagues. However…
I’m not in it for the kudos.
I’m above kudos.
I never even liked kudos.
What?! Didn’t you notice my martyr outfit? Just throw a smile my way and I’m good.
But you’re not smiling. Uh oh. You look pensive. Ok. What’d I mess up? You have to tell me, man. C’mon! I see you silently judging me. My work. You’re looking at my faulty sentence structure, aren’t you?! I knew it! Wait…now what are you looking at? The newspaper? Holy Jesus! I’ve bored you so much you’ve turned to the newspaper? Please! Give me a sign! A hint! A nuanced, sideways glance even…no! Don’t get up and walk away from me when I’m thinking at you! NOOooo…
Well. I don’t need you.
I don’t need anybody.
I’m a fucking island.
Fortunately, today is Friday. And on Fridays, we have family dinner. And at family dinner, we go around the table and do gratefuls and wishes. And I get my weekly dose of “the only thing in the world that matters is these three other people.” Because my six year old will say something like “I’m grateful for signs of Spring. And my family. And I wish that we would be together forever and spend all our time together.”
And my four year old will say something like, “I’m grateful for…um…Mommy, did you go yet? Oh. Did you, Daddy? Oh. What was your grateful again? After I say mine, will I get another turn? Wait. I think you said yours last week. Do you want to save a new one for tomorrow? Is today Friday? I’m grateful it’s Friday. Ella N. doesnt come to my school on Fridays. Ella N. said she didn’t want to be my friend anymore. Ella N. kicked Caitlin in the neck. I wish we would get a treat tonight. Can we Daddy?”
Then I will say, “Ella N. sounds like a little bitch.”
And my husband will say, “who wants ice cream?”
And thus I gather all the kudos I need to fuel me for the upcoming week.