April 3, 2008
Pity Party, Inc.
Wallowing in self-pity is a full-time job. That's why I'm up at 5 a.m. I just can't get enough wallowing in during daylight hours so I'm working overtime. Yes, while the rest of New Zealand sleeps, I'm awake, climbing the corporate ladder of Pity Party, Inc. I've made it to Vice-President of Internal Mockery in just three short days and the coveted title of CDP (Certifiably Depressed Person) is well within my grasp.
I interviewed for the position while I was sitting on the park bench that night I walked out of the house. It was an easy job to get, really. Problem is it doesn't pay so well. I'm doing it on a volunteer basis, actually. I know, I know, I should ask for something more. My time is valuable, what about my self-worth, etc, etc.? Thing is, they don't encourage self-worth at Pity Party, Inc and they're pretty clear about the fact that, as PPI employees, our time and well, everything about us, is isn't worth a dime. They couldn't keep the business going if everyone started asking for their worth in gold (or cash).
Of course, even as I wallow I know I'm worth something to my family and friends and in the end that may be what loses me my job. I don't know how long I can keep up this schedule anyway. It's exhausting. I started work at 2 a.m. the other day, and the night before last I was on call all night--I got to stay in bed but my mind was working all the time.
Our trip to the South Island begins Tuesday so I'll probably have to take a leave of absence. I could take my work with me, I suppose, but it might be hard to work and entertain Jerry and look at all that beautiful scenery (it's Middle Earth, people!) while I'm trying to feel sorry for myself. Drat! Just thinking about our trip has cost me my VP title. I'm Manager of Human Failings now. That's a definite step back.
And I can see another setback on the horizon. We're visiting a homeschooling family from America this afternoon. We hung out with them last week and were treated to a fabulous dinner, a walk on the beach, lots of good conversation, and tea shipped from New York City. We talked about New Zealand's little quirks (why don't people rinse the soap off their dishes here!?) and the Presidential election back in the states, and how I might have to move out of the country too if the Republicans win again. (My entire family threatened to move in with my sister in Ireland if he won last time but we're still there--and he's still in White House.)
So I guess my point is this job probably won't last long. But that's not stopping me from giving it my all for the time being. I can't help it--I'm a high achiever. You know, first born child and all that.