The nicest thing anyone ever did for me was to send me a “Congratulations on the birth of your new baby!” announcement after I had a miscarriage.
Obviously, I’m being sarcastic. And this didn’t even happen to me. I’ve never had a miscarriage. I’ve never even been pregnant. But it did just happen to Herchel Scruggs from Metamomphosis: Motherhood in Flux. You can read about it HERE.
Her due date somehow was put on a third-party company list. She had removed her due date after the miscarriage from the original entry location, but was unaware of the third party. Hence, the email congratulating her the week her baby was due.
Her experience reminded me why I hate these congratulatory and Happy Birthday auto emails and messages that corporations send out to show they care, but it’s really just another way for them to advertise their crap.
Do I really believe that these companies care that I had a baby or that it’s my birthday? No. Do I appreciate them thinking of me on my special day? No. In fact, if anything, it irritates me that on my birthday I get to delete a slew of unwanted happy birthday emails from companies that don’t know anything about me other than the fact that I’ve used their product…maybe only once.
It’s not only corporations that do this. We get birthday cards from our dentist, orthodontist, car insurance agent, and our church. I love our church. I adore it. But there are like six million members…or something like that. The senior pastors don’t know me, as I’ve only met them each once. Why are they sending me a birthday card every year?
This made me think of other impersonal and fake crap I could do without. Before I continue, let me say that I understand that some people love this stuff. And maybe people who aren’t perpetually overwhelmed appreciate being thought of, even if it is just an administrative assistant printing off the entire month of birthday card recipient address labels to apply to 150 identical greeting cards. That’s great. Hey, Happy Birthday, Marge, but I think it’s a waste of paper, money and time.
Since I’m on a ranting roll, here are a few more things I can’t stand.
Christmas party gift exchanges – OMG. I cannot stand these. Let me go out and buy a $20 gift that I have to spend the time to buy and wrap, put it into a gift pit, then sit in a circle and steal and fight over the best gifts (that’s the most fun part of Christmas) and I end up with a $20 foot bath that I saw on sale at Walgreens for $9.99 on the way to the party. I saw it because that’s where I got the camouflage Snuggie I wrapped up for you.
Speaking of Christmas…
Secret Santa – These can be fun or totally suck, depending on the office atmosphere. I’ve had both experiences. It can be fun to give gag gifts, especially when they’re opened in front of the entire office. But that only works in a close-knit office. When your office grows over the years to the point that your co-workers are now merely acquaintances, but Secret Santa is a tradition so you still do it, that’s when it becomes annoying. You have to sit in a circle and open up a gift from someone and act like you love the gift. Or you have to ask around the office trying to find out what that new person, who’s name you didn’t even know until you drew it out of the pencil holder cup, might want to unwrap on Santa Day. Gag. I’m so ungrateful.
Kids getting trophies for everything -I didn’t get a trophy until I was in 11th grade. It was for the Most Improved Player on the tennis team. It was the only trophy I ever earned in all of my school years. I still have that trophy. It meant something to me. It meant something to me because I worked for it. It still means something to me. A lot. And I think I just admitted to being a little bit of a loser in this paragraph.
Small talk – I hate it. I suck at it. I was at my son’s art class today. It was the second to last class. Another mom started saying something about the class, out loud, as she walked near me. At first I didn’t know if she was talking to me. I smiled and then she spoke again. She was making small talk. My thought was, you don’t need to talk to me, the class is almost over and I’ll be moving next month to a house that’s an hour away. I’ll never see you again after next week. So we don’t need to be friends. Mmkay?
I’m such a jerk. I mean, the woman could have been talking to me as a subtle cry for help because her husband had just asked for a divorce and her mom died and her sick dog crapped all over the floor as she ran out the door for the art class and I just blew her off. But I doubt it.
What it comes down to is I don’t like pretension. I don’t like being fake…although I’m guilty of it at times because I’m a people-pleaser and want everything to be nicey-nice. But that doesn’t mean I can’t hate it…even when I do it.
How do you feel about fake things like those I mentioned?
This post is part of Finish the Sentence Friday. This week’s guest co-host is Sarah from Left Brain Buddha.
No FTSF next week. Sentence for May 30 (pick one): My favorite way to exercise is… OR It’s bathing suit season, and to prepare, I… (guest co-host: Allison of Go Dansker Mom)
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