The bedtime stories she read to me in my early years planted the seeds for later disappointment.
As I described yesterday, my mom inflicted upon me a host of bad notions and platitudes.
I wouldn’t be griping about it now, except for the fact that many of her “inculcations” have later proven to be severe obstacles in my ongoing journey toward school PR superstardom.
But first I should point out something.
By “my early years” I mean back when I was between 2 to 6 years-old.
“My early years” isn’t meant to imply that my mom was still reading to me back when I was 11, 17, or 25 years-old, for crying out loud.
Somehow I felt I’d better make this clear.
For sure, if my mom were alive today, she’d attempt to defend herself by saying this story was one of my favorites.
But this doesn’t mean she had the right to keep pushing its messages on me drip-by-drip, does it?
Of course not.
So, this one’s on you, mom.
Perhaps you’re acquainted with the tale.
A poor shoemaker and his wife had just one pair of shoes to sell and they couldn’t afford the materials to make any more. They were cold and hungry and the rent was past due. (They were really bad off, got it?)
Naturally, the shoemaker selflessly gave his last pair of “inventory” to the old woman.
Now, I’ll try to cut to the chase by telling you this tale proceeds with depictions of how a few elves then got busy in the wee hours of the night while the shoemaker and his wife were sleeping in order make spanking brand new pairs of shoes for the shoemaker and his wife to sell.
You can imagine how surprised the shoemaker and his wife were in the morning to discover that their inventory of shoes had grown considerably!
You can now imagine MY SURPRISE to discover much later in my life that things don’t actually work out this way in real-life.
There aren’t ever any magical elves around who’ll bail you out of a pressing deadline by doing your work.
I can’t believe I believed this for so long!
You’ve seen the expression Goals are Dreams with a Deadline.
What a fool I was for thinking (thanks to you-know-who) that I could ever go to bed at night after watching a big game on TV – and get up in the morning – and hope to see my most critical projects miraculously completed to perfection by elves overnight!
I’m embarrassed to admit it, but there have NEVER been any elves round over the years to help me out of a jam.
I’ve had to learn to rely on apps, not elves.
Luckily, there are great ones like:
Boomerang for Gmail (manage your email),
Trello (manage your projects),
and Basecamp (for teamwork).
I’ve just had to accept that all of them are secretly assisting other people, though.
And they’re making my life miserable by filling up my inbox every night while I sleep with all kinds of email messages, including some requesting to see how I’m coming along on my projects.
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