The car salesman I’m currently working with – nice, helpful guy, btw. Probably the only car salesman I’ve ever met that I like – can’t remember how to pronounce my name. I’ve corrected him many times in the last three days. “No, it’s not Lo-ra-lie (despite it being spelled that way), it’s pronounced Lo-ra-lee”. Doesn’t matter. Even two minutes after he hears me say it, he still forgets.
I don’t care. Not enough for it to matter. I care that he found us the car we were looking for in our price range. I care that he’s gone above and beyond during the sales process, despite the fact that we’re getting the car for 30% less than sticker, and he’s probably making diddly-squat for commission.
I’ve been pondering this because I’ve been thinking about perspective this morning. Things kind of sucked in November. That’s what I keep telling myself and moping about. The whole “Poor me” self-pity game.
Except they’re not all bad. It’s all a matter of perspective. I had four short story acceptances. One on a submission I’d given up on. I got a great new boss at work (the old one was good too, but it’s always nice not to transition down). I had two stories printed and will be able to pick the books up next time I’m at the post office. Two more coming this month.
And I finished one and a half novels. And I’m relearning how to spit out the words and not care about self editing in the first draft. I’m relearning the joy of actually telling a story instead of fretting over sentence structure and description and pacing all before I even have the entire thing on paper once.
And that’s not such a bad thing.
What were the high points of your November?