Mirror Mirror: You Must be Joking


223, that’s my number.  Sadly, it is not a joke.  Everybody has a number, and when we are adults of a certain age, it’s pretty important that we know what that number is.  I mean, there are a lot of numbers that rank us throughout our lives, and we are trained from a very early age to accept this ranking system as part of our self-persona, or esteem building ego system.  Some of us are raised in an environment where we embrace the ranking system, and naturally aspire to be on the top of the liter board. While others resent having the liter board stuffed down there throat, and simply choose to ignore the natural ranking systems of life, giving very little regard to what their number is.  It is my belief that our approach to the ranking system can be a direct result of how we were raised, a genetic pre-disposition to certain behaviors, as a result of life experiences, or perhaps a combination of all of these things.  After all, I really don’t think anyone is born with the fuck-it attitude!  Surely something happened that got us there?!

Regardless of what our approach is to the ranking system of life, surely it is those choices that we make in response to our rankings over the years that will ultimately decide our future rankings.  (See my blog entry on choices if you have any doubts of my opinion on this topic.) My earliest memory of being scored or ranked is kindergarten.  Four or Five years old is far too young to be scared with grades of A through F, so of course we were treated like the precious little treasures that we were, and received metallic stars to denote how we performed.  Those behaving and achieving exceedingly well would receive gold, next level silver, then bronze stars on projects or home reports.  But everyone got a star, so everyone could feel like a star.  To be honest, I’m positive I was born a diva with a Champaign pallet!  God Rest my mother’s soul, if she was still alive, she would certainly attest to the fact that I by gosh always wanted that gold star.  I somehow just knew it was better, even when I was 5 years old!!  If I received a silver star on a project, it was a don’t even pretend it’s close to a gold star, and a bronze star, just pitch it in the garbage and start trying to cheer me up with a milkshake from McDonald’s.  Aw yes, a little over achiever was born.  I don’t think my parents had a thing to do with my over achiever attitude, I blame that damn ranking system!  Why didn’t they use primary colors instead of precious metals?   The Commodities market doesn’t lie!  Everyone knows gold is worth more than silver and silver is worth more than bronze!  I digress.

You see, there are some children that might figure out that parents like mine, are in some ways rewarding the bronze star by giving you a milkshake to cheer you up, and they might give less effort, but fake disappointment to reap the outcome!  My feeling is that we simply make a choice how to get what we want from life. These choices pile up with time, and do affect future outcomes, and are harder to reverse!  My number, 223, is no accident, but an accumulation of behaviors.  As a natural born over-achiever, even I had to learn that you couldn’t earn a gold star on everything.  For instance, I wanted to be a sprinter on the track team, but I had to settle for competing in the 440 dashes.  When I realized I really wasn’t ever going to get that freaking gold medal, even in the 440 dashes, well let’s just say the track team and I were no longer one.

To this day I prefer to participate in things I feel confident I can be number one in.  Good Lord, I even convinced the paycheck delivery guy that our company needed to be first on his delivery route, just because I like to sign in the number one slot!!  All it took was a story about never loosing site of how good it felt when I won the state cheerleading championship in 8th grade, and still wanting to be number one.  The delivery guy momentarily reminisced about a similar event in his life, and do you know he would proudly show up first thing Wednesday mornings to show me I was in the number one slot every week!  Poor guy actually apologized when he told me he was changing jobs and could no longer guarantee that I would be number one on the route anymore.

There are two important things to be learned about me from this story.  Point one is that I have formed a habit of very casually leaving situations that seem like they will not place me in the appropriate commodities category.  Point two, I will work very hard, and be pretty manipulative at the things that I think will yield an easy, but profitable return to my ego.  The fact that I have spent the last couple of years ignoring both of these things about myself is exactly why I find myself with my current number of 223.  Life has been hard, money was short, and let me just go ahead and be honest; I stopped worrying about diet and exercise.   Besides that crappy diet I indulged myself in, I just stopped making myself care about exercising.  Next week became next month, I will join the gym when I catch up my bills, I don’t have time to do the P90X, and so on.   I know you must be thinking that my number is my weight, but it isn’t.  The fact is that I have weighed exactly what I weigh right now, and my number was only 176.  The difference, I was in much better physical shape.  Working out almost daily, strong, muscular, watching my diet.  My mother’s side of the family all had heart problems, I’ve had high blood pressure since I was 35, staying in good physical shape, and keep my cholesterol low is essential for me.  If you don’t know it already, cholesterol over 200 is not good.  For someone who only weighs 138 pounds, cholesterol of 223 is horrible!  Somewhere over the past couple of years I lost site of my lifelong goal to keep my number in a healthy range, and now it’s going to be a good deal of work to get back in the healthy range.  But really, the diva in me won’t be happy until I get that gold star report from my doctor, so there’s no time like the present to start!!

One thought on “Mirror Mirror: You Must be Joking

  1. Pingback: Mirror Mirror: You Must be Joking | Pink Drivers for a Cure: What doesn't Kill us Makes Us Stronger

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