Positive Feedback Mechanisms

Kind of what the boss did today. I.e. when I was getting ready to leave work today he looked around the door and said "you did really well today, Emily." And I smiled. Today WAS a good day, despite the positive feedback. It was about time to have a good day, too. Good days put things into perspective, and give me a border between Now and Then. As in: Now I can see that boss being a jerk was clearly boss being a jerk, and had little to do with me (thanks. Esteli, for the support, it was really nice to read your comment) because Then I didn't know what I was doing. Then is not Now and is over (because it is now Now), and I have figured out the thing that makes Now not Then anymore (assuming that Now is better than Then, which in this case it is, because I am not nostalgic for Then, no siree!). I am not sure if that was clear, but I have decided that I don't really care. Maybe if I diagram it mathematically:

Now ≠ Then instead, Now > Then put another way, Then + A Good Day = Now

But this is where my analogy falls to pieces and has no real relation to math because A Good Day is entirely incalculable, and you can't reverse the sum of A Good Day, Now, and Then. (Har de har har, that was really really terrible and nonsensical and I promise that it will never happen again).

The P. showed rugby matches, all day, and about 20 people showed up, and stayed all day, drinking pint after pint of Guinness. I had to be on my toes about collecting the empty glasses because at one point we were on the verge of running out of Fosters glasses (the ones we use for lager and Guinnes in general, if the lager is not Stella Artois because we have those glasses) and then I would have had to use the Stella glasses. Which wasn't a big deal, but oh well, there was no one else in the pub and I had a good time barging and banging around picking up glasses while the game was going and generally being a nuisance. When I left there was a large crowd of cheerfully wasted lesbians (I assume, because they looked pretty butch and English women go out of their way to look really feminine) and a couple with their son snuggled together on one of the couches and some twenty-something guys, as well as some older guys. Everyone was happily buying each other pints and had rosy cheeks and smiles and would cheer or boo at the screen with vigor.

Their jollity spilled over into the next room and T. and I would occasionally comment to each other that we really liked this crowd. I silently added that I liked it much better than the football crowd. They are large oafs and talk exactly like oafs (low and with some sort of idiot muted tone to their voice, a lot like when girls pretend to talk like guys, or as if they're speaking through blankets) and have no sense of humor and are hard to understand because they are so sullen and oaf-like.

And then as I was leaving T. complimented my work. I was elated (hurrah! I figured it out!) and Pissed. I wanted to run after him, grab him by the shoulder and point out that a lot of grief could have been avoided had a) I been trained properly and b) he'd been nicer and more open about pointing out my mistakes as I made them.

Grrrr. + Hurrah! + Tipsy Rugby Fans = Today.