IOU on being positive? R U Kidding me?

Today went off almost without a hitch.  No drama, pretty low-key, people were leaving me alone.  Just as I was getting ready to go home, boss number one walks up.  He seemed a little down.  We engaged in some banter and then he noticed the award I was given last week for basically being a rock star during the first quarter of the year. He was supposed to sign it along with boss #2, but he was out of the office.  I had added one of those red arrow stickers that says "sign here" next to the line where his name was supposed to be.  He signed it for me and then read it.  It said something to the affect of "...thank you for your hard work and positive attitude..."  He stops and says, "do I get an IOU on that positive attitude part?"  I said, "hey! are you saying I don't have a positive attitude?"  He said, "well, what you lack in being positive, you make up with sarcasm."  I sat there feigning insult and laughed about it for a minute.  And then, I started to think.  I think I am insulted.  What do you mean I'm not positive?  I like to think in light of all the chaos and crap they put me through I do pretty well.  If sharing my discontent with the amount of crap I have to put up with is construed as negative, well then....bite me.

I started worrying about it.  I started thinking maybe I need to be a "Stepford Wife" assistant.  Maybe everything should be roses and sunshine.  Maybe I should smile and act perky.  No, no, no.  That plan will never work.  I don't have it in me.  Seriously, the amount of energy it takes to be positive must be exhausting.  And those positive people drive me crazy.  All happy and making the best of everything.  Yick.  Look, here's the deal, God made a lot of those perky, positive people.  You know how I know?  Because I can spot them and they seem to seek me out and annoy the piss out of me.  I'm not saying you can't have a positive outlook, I'm not saying you can't be happy, just don't blow sunshine up my butt ALL THE TIME.  It grosses me out.  Like, there are some people, you could push them into a pile of horse crap and mud and they would say, "Oh, thank you!  I was getting so hot and sweaty and this mud is so refreshing and it's so good for my skin!  And I was going to throw these clothes away anyway, but now I won't feel pressure to wash them and give them away to the homeless, now I can just throw them out.  Oh and that mud and poo works as such a great detoxifier for my hair.  And do you see how white my teeth are now that I am covered in poo?  My teeth whitening system is working wonderfully. Oh thank you for pushing me in the mud!  You are a gift from heaven."  Those people.  Ew.  You know who you are.  And, again, I'm not saying you can't be you, but can you be you....way over there?

God made me a realist.  He made me the girl that says it like it is.  He made me the girl that gives you the honest truth.  He made me the  girl that tells her boss that she is NOT going to go buy 75 Slurpees or Shamrock shakes. It's just ridiculous.  He made me the girl with boundaries.  He made me the girl that has a little hope inside surrounded by a lot of fat on the outside.  See, this way, it takes longer for the hope to get out and it doesn't overwhelm people.

And, I'm positive.  I'm positive that place has sucked the life out of me for 14 years.  I'm positive it has given me call center ass (aka CCA).  I'm positive it has allowed me to learn to distinguish between bullshit and reality.  I'm positive I'm probably going to die there.  And you know what, people don't want me to change.  People like me as is.  It's like this is a Jack Handy Deep Thoughts moment....I'm onery and dagnabbit, people like me.  I was considering doing hypnosis for weight loss and my friends all said, "oh man, you're not going to change are you?  Your not going to be perky are you?" 

What the heck would I call my blog? Perky Pony? I think not.  Who wants to read about how the Perky Pony had a great day and her Wonder bread was just the right amount of soft and the right amount of firm and that her peanut butter didn't get in her jelly and her jelly didn't get in her peanut butter an that her ass looked amazing in her new jeans and that everyone thought so and that she had perfect hair and that it must be nice to be so happy with life.  Who wants to read that crap.    My job isn't to tell everyone they are doing a great job and that everything is perfect.  My job is to hold people accountable and hold them up to higher standards.  My job is to call out the idiots so that they are not idiots for the rest of their lives.  People like me are crucial to the successful evolution of society.  Perky Pony can't say that.  Perky Pony just takes a dump that smells like roses and a warm summers breeze. Neigh, I am the realist.  And if that means I owe the boss an IOU on being positive, then SO BE IT.  My sarcasm is a gift not to be taken lightly.  Don't make me take it away, because I will.  Ok, so that last part is a lie.  I can't really stop being sarcastic.  Lucky for all of you.

Now, if you will excuse me, I'm exhausted from thinking about being positive.