I swear I’m not writing this because it’s only a week til Thanksgiving.
Ok, maybe I am. Does it matter? Truth be told, I have had this on my mind for a while now. Or maybe just since the third red light I hit on my commute home from work. Those long lights give me time to think about stuff… important stuff… “solving-the-problems-of-the-world” kind of stuff. And tonight, sitting in my nice, warm car, I was particularly thankful I wasn’t the bicyclist who was right next to me. (That will be another entry: “Why Bicyclists Should Not Think They Are Vehicles, When In Fact They Are Not.”) That bicyclist was freezing what was left of his fanny off in the 40 degree weather. And I was instantly thankful for heated seats. My fanny, although probably a tad wider than the nice, exercise fanatic outside my car window, was quite comfortable.
Anyway… That wasn’t my original reason for writing about thanks.
The original reason blossomed when I was sitting at that red light, in my lovely warm car, heading towards my lovely warm home… I was thankful to be headed home from a busy day. Far away from phones, fax machines, and people who didn’t say “Thank you” when I went above and beyond my duties there. Granted, my going above and beyond is an expectation of someone in my position. I know this, the people I work with know this, we all know and acknowledge this freely.
But… and this is when the lightning struck… There is something about handing a coworker a fax, warm and fresh off the machine, and hearing the word, “Thanks.” It’s nice. It makes me happy. It makes me want to do things for them again. And in those times when all I get in return for the fax is a nod and a paper snatched from my hands… well, I know it sounds ridiculous, but it bothers me. I’ll admit it. I’m… needy that way.
So. This is when I realized I have a thank you complex. This simply means that I really like to hear the words “Thank you” when I do something well, or even semi-competent. It puts a spring in my step as I turn and head back towards my workstation. My files don’t look as imposing, my desk looks less cluttered. Suddenly I see rainbows, and happiness, and the heavens open up with a “hallelujah” — Hello, my name is Mimi, and I have a problem. I am a… “gratia-phile”? My high school latin teacher has just rolled over in her grave (hopefully only if she’s dead).
So. Now that I’ve realized and come to the realization that I have a complex, I feel like I should do something about it. Not get rid of it, by any means, but maybe work on saying “Thank you” to others as well. Maybe being a bit more grateful for the little things in between the rush of life. And, of course, blogging every day for the upcoming week about the things I am most thankful for!
Hooray for convenient holidays! Erm… Well… Maybe that’s the wrong way to put it.
Here– look! I’ll even start right now.
THANK YOU! For reading my blog. All two of you. 🙂