Spoiled Rotten

At some point this past Winter, our incredibly patient office manager T gently suggested that she create a special box for my mail.  I had grown accustomed to treating my work mailbox as a locker of sorts and it was crammed full of mail.  When T recommended a large box of my own to supplement the modest mailbox, I realized that she’d had enough of my nonsense.  Though she would never say it out loud, my mailbox malfeasance was driving her mad. 

So I vowed to clean out my mailbox and did so that afternoon.  Subsequently, I kept it tidy and, once the habit was established, I began to brag about my clean mailbox.  Then I began to demand that my efforts be awarded.  After our Middle School closing, a ceremony where we hand out awards to a few students, I complained that I had not received my award.

I figured that the amazing T would print me a fancy-looking certificate from her magical office computer. I would humbly accept, pin it on my bulletin board, and brag loudly.  We’d all laugh.

Today, when I arrived at school, my boss and T were in the office and my boss was loudly thanking T for his award, a basket filled with treats and a sign that read “1st Place Clean Mailbox Competition.”  He was holding the basket and pointing to his cleaned out mailbox.

Come to find out, I did receive an award, a metal tray that T filled with treats that I neither earned nor deserve.  It’s amazing and lovely, a treat I find very pleasing.

I’m spoiled rotten by the most amazing co-workers anyone could possibly have.  And my mailbox remains tidy.