Saturday, July 11, 2009

Retarded in the Mouth

I work with a lovely fellow - let's call him Cornelis, just for the heck of it - who is consistently, inexhaustibly positive. Under even the most trying of circumstances the worst you can get him to admit to feeling is "medium". Though incredibly irritating at times, it's an admirable quality, and I've left many a thwarted bitch session in his office wondering what the secret to his endless optimism is.

All was made clear to me the other day, when Cornelis revealed to me that he maintains a Feel-Good Folder in his email account - every time he gets a really good email, he files it there so if he's ever feeling down he can read through a few and recharge the ol' wellspring of happiness.

Totally gay, eh? But not a bad idea. So because I like making lots of resolutions, I resolved to start jotting down compliments in a little feel-good record of my own, beginning on my thirty-first birthday last week.

So far I've collected three, all from DH, and it has come to my attention that in my enthusiasm to get my resolution off to a good start, I've perhaps not been discriminating enough in choosing what compliments to record for posterity:

July 9, 2009 "I like your wavy hair. It's wavy."

July 10, 2009 "You really stack the dishes nice."

July 11, 2009 "You don't fart in your sleep as much as you used to."

Dubiouser and dubiouser. On reflection, it's obviously the quality, not the quantity, of the contents of your feel-good folder that count.

User discretion is advised.

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