Seeing the glass half full

You know what’s odd? Circles. Circles? Yes, circles, but most importantly, the number pi that’s contained in each one. It’s everywhere! Smoke detectors? Yep, they’re round. Toilet paper rolls? Those too. The plastic wheels on your office chair? Yes, bloody yes–we’re talking about a pretty basic shape here.

Contained somewhere deep in the hidden digits pi is:

  • Your birthday
  • Your social security number
  • The year you were born multiplied by the day of the month you read your very first word
  • And even the binary translation of the entire works of William Shakespeare

I will not lie. That’s an impressive laundry list of achievements, and I’ll bet you it’s not even worn out yet. I admit that I don’t know any of those things that I mentioned above, and it’s really quite humiliating that pi can do it with such ease.

Over the last few days I’ve gotten to thinking–that thinking has lead to more thinking, and soon enough I’ve found myself in thoughts so deep that I could put the Mariana Trench out of business.

I realized that I may never have a second of free-time again, and while I will always be able to look about me, find something as simple as a circle, and think, “Man, I wish I could get around like you do,” that’s no excuse for me to be sitting on the floor playing patty-cake with the wall all day. It’s time to get to work. Literally.

It started with a phone call last weekend from my department oversight, Mr. WALLY Walid-Washington. Wally told me he needed our overstock warehouse moved around a little because we were bringing in a huge crayon buyout; it was such a good offer, we apparently “would be jerks to pass on it.”

So here we have the warehouse–packed already, mind you, like a house-fire suitcase–and about 1/3 of that space’s worth of unused crayons that had to all fit by the next day.

This is me in panic mode, and I never lose my chill. I was up at 4 a.m. to get to work and start manoeuvering heavy machinery for the sole benefit of the company. I was the only one there. But that didn’t stop me. By the time the morning crew started showing up I had a row of shelves gone and everything that was on it got condensed into subsequent space.

I had a chat with the shift supervisor, he acknowledged my efforts and shrugged, and I exited the building with the understanding that I just saved the day.

Wally saw me the next day and he laughed. He said, “You’re a real buffoon, you know that? You moved the wrong shelves. We bring in shipments on the other end.”

I felt the deflating defeat on soul. What are you supposed to say when you make the greatest effort and then realize that you haven’t done anything? Can you accept the fact that this greatest effort of yours has failed to garnish their tarnished perception of you?

Of course this feeling fizzled out for the most part, but the terrible tremors from this emotional earthquake still sometimes return and make me stop what I’m doing and just stare at the wall for a 30 second reverie and then let me go back to what I was doing. You know, everybody’s had those moments. You just have to forget about them.

I ultimately decided that I’m going to start seeing these moments as negative experiences that need some kind of neutralizing. I made a mistake at work, so now I’m starting a blog. I fail at something; I succeed at two things. If that’s not the pathway to success, I don’t know what is. Inventing a new jelly bean? No. Actually, I hadn’t thought of that, but regardless…

You are now officially a part of my quest to success. Together, we can bring this glass from half-empty to half-full. It’s not impossible. You just have to be ready to change (i.e. never repeat yourself) and maybe get a little irrational. Once you can do those things, who knows how far you’ll go?