Anyway, the impetus for this was that my Myers Briggs type had changed, and I felt, deeply within my soul, that the prior spirit animal (which I'd never actually gotten around to choosing) was no longer appropriate. I am sure you understand the urgency of this matter. Because, like, I have nothing else to do but navel gaze.
Anyway, somebody posted a link on FB that told me I was a dolphin: so that is decided. I am okay with dolphin. Mainly because they are not usually fat.
A dolphin, lithely leaping from the water. Pls excuse the typo. It is not mine.
Also, a friend of mine posted this link which tells you what kind of wine you are, if you know your Myers Briggs. And if you don't know your Myers Briggs, then what are you doing all day? Clearly not answering silly questions on websites! I have two words for you people: missing out.
I am, of course, champagne, which makes me absurdly happy. I feel a sense of Great Accomplishment that the beverage I would be, were I a beverage, according to my Myers Briggs type, which I discovered through the Completely Objective Scientific Process of answering multiple choice questions on a website, is so deeply aligned with my Whole And Truest Self.
I also noticed today, as my little children (the ones I teach, not the one I bore) ran the Turkey Trot at school, that I feel a sense of Great Accomplishment when they cross the finish line. It has no sense to it whatsoever. I see Child X (not her real name), whom I taught, run, and I am almost teary with pride. Literally I have to hide my face, or others will see that I'm practically weeping with joy over this dumb thing which I had nothing to do with. Why? Because I am insane. Who's with me?
Maybe it has something to do with the dolphin. Or the champagne.*
Anyway, this all reminds me of one time this friend of mine got a job doing social media marketing for a spiritual business advisor. She (the friend--let's call her Dawn) and the SBA (let's call her Rita) had some kind of email exchange about the position and the terms that went something like this:
Rita: Dearest Luminescence,
I have decided that I would be eternally in your debt if you would please consider being my social media marketing consultant. I know that we have only begun to know each other (and never actually met), but I feel it is not too early to say that I love you. I can feel your remarkable aura pulsating through the universe, and I must say I am deeply moved. Please consider my offer. I will, of course, pay you $25 an hour, but we both know that is beside the point.
Dawn: Thank you, thank you! I do not know how you managed to do so, but you have inferred my deepest desiring, which is to work for you as your social media marketing consultant. I didn't want to tell you because I, also, felt it was too soon, but I have loved you for as long as I remember--at least since Thursday last. You may not recall because it was such a trifle to you, but on that day you emailed asking me to post a twitter update involving small business taxes and how they relate to the root chakra, and, as I did so, I realized that my own root chakra was misaligned! I went immediately to my accupuncturist, and he cured me of this wrong, which I am certain would have shortly resulted in my death. So, you see, my magnificent empath, that I have had my very life saved by you, and I am sure it was fated that we work cooperatively in this manner. I would do anything to serve you, and please do not degrade it by mentioning pay again! (But $25 an hour is fine.)
Rita: Oh, heavenly rapture! When I recieved your email accepting the role of social media marketing consultant, I wept tears of joy. Words cannot describe how glad I am that we will be able to collaborate symbiotically to sell my shit.
And so on. I know what you're thinking. These people are all insane, and what is this blog post even about?
Yes.
The end.
*note: I do not drink at work, no matter the temptation.
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