I have a job.
I have the exact job I dreamed of when I was a little girl (if by “exact,” you mean that as I grew older, I realized I can neither draw nor sew and I gave up on my dream and then wanted to be a famous fashion photographer but when I got to college I realized there were many people who were more passionate and a lot better than me and I gave up and fast forward a decade and I am happily employed with a county job with the Community Services Department but that makes me think of Parks and Rec and that’s not even close to what we do and while it’s not exactly my dream job it’s a decent job with decent pay and benefits).
Anyway.
In an attempt to keep staff happy and motivated, we have potucks. LOTS of potlucks. In any given month, we will have weekly potlucks because there is always something to celebrate.
Someone promoted? Potluck.
Boss’s Day? Potluck.
Halloween…you guessed it: potluck!
I want to make sure I’m respected and well-liked. Honestly, I think that’s the real reason I slave over the dishes I bring to potlucks...I want everyone to like me. This entire ritual often brings to mind a Simpsons episode where Lisa wants to become a vegetarian and Homer tells her, “you don’t win friends with salad.” And honestly, I’ve discovered that that is very true; the leftovers at office potlucks are almost always the healthier items, while everything that is terrible for humans is always gone first. The most recent challenge came in the form of a breakfast potluck. Sure, I could have picked something up at the store to bring to a potluck, but I would have felt judged. I always cook or bake from scratch. I’m not the best cook and I don’t cook often, but I can definitely follow a recipe. Usually. This time, I made Ina Garten’s potato salad, and it was a huge hit. Something as simple as potato salad was the most popular item and it disappeared quickly. A few coworkers even asked for the recipe and I felt good about myself and my cooking.
Now, baking for a breakfast potluck means I not only have to prepare and set a dish late at night, but I also have to wake up super early the next morning to put it all in the oven. And anyone who knows me, knows that I love sleeping (and I am not at all a morning person).
So coworkers…this means I really love you.
So please.
Love me back.
