Goodwill hunting

So, I have this friend. And no, this isn't one of those analogies where the "friend" is really me. This is a real person and a real example because you know what? I can't make this kind of stuff up.

I'm not that good.

Anywho, the other day my friend, who I hope will still be my friend and continue to read my blog after reading this post, made a comment about my car.

Let's pause and reflect on my car. As a lover of small things, I drive a clean, zippy little Civic stick that is typically debris-free inside and out. I have made it a habit to remove anything and everything that does not belong in my car at the end of every day. And, since I like to carry it all in one trip, I no doubt resemble a beast-of-burden as I haul twice my weight in canvas bags filled with gym clothes and lunch containers, receipts and mail, and the occasional benthic macroinvertebrate from my car into my house.

Okay, so even though I don't make this stuff up, I have been known to exaggerate in order to make a story better or a joke funnier. So sue me.

However, on this particular day, books like, "Mary Had a Little Lamb" and "Christy," an old shelving unit, and some of my hubby's cast-off clothes were piled on the floor behind my seat. Now, instead of stating the obvious:

"Oh, Jessica. You are such an incredible and generous environmentalist. Not only are you gathering reusable objects to donate to Goodwill, but I can see that you are conserving fossil fuel by waiting until you have other errands to run in that charity's neck o' the woods before you trek all the way out there. You are my hero."

Instead, my friend said something like, "Wow. For a professional organizer, you sure have a messy car."

Gasp! What? Did you hear that? That was the sound of my heart faltering within and my jaw dropping like a...jaw that drops.

You will be relieved to hear that I did not crack my slate over my friend's head. That is not a good way to win friends or influence people, no matter what Anne Shirley may tell you.

Instead, I promptly found a reason to go to Goodwill the very next day. My apologies to the planet.

All that being said, let me point out my error. Not the error of my friend. Mine.

I allowed what my well-intentioned friend (I assume they were well-intentioned, since people I am friends with know that they should never ever insult their friends occupation, especially when it is still a tender, green shoot...) to mess with my sense of identity to such an extent that I drove all the way to Good-flippin'-will at 7:00 on a Tuesday night just to drop off a few measly items. How measly, you ask? I didn't even ask for a receipt for tax purposes, that's how!

And finally, my point. Don't let your work define you to the point where you can't feel free to muck it up on a personal level. That's way too much pressure for a critter that is essentially made out of, and will one day turn back into, humus.

So mechanics - go ahead and let your car break down on the side of the road and call AAA to give you a tow. Housekeepers - let that toilet of yours form a substantial pink ring-o-slime around the water line. Dentists- eat all your kid's trick-or-treating booty and don't brush your teeth before you go to bed that night.

Feel free. Is okay. I make lamb.