Sometimes I am so bright . . .
I need to wear sunglasses just to deal with my brightness.

We've all done this at some time in our lives. You attend a function which requires you to wear one of those stick-on nametags that proudly displays your name to the entire room. Then you leave and forget to take off the nametag, proceeding to wear it out in public for the rest of the day.

Oh come on, you know you've done it. I did it just today, in fact. So bright, am I.

I went to a seminar thingy this morning. It's one of those educational things you attend for your job, in attempt to look like you are trying to do your job better. I mean . . . to learn more insightful tips on how you can improve your job performance, as you continually strive to perfect your job-related duties through much hardwork and dedication on an on-going basis. That's what I meant. Yep.

When I arrived at the seminar, we had to check in with the ladies who were the keepers of the nametags. I soon learned that my name as I know it was nowhere to be found on any of the nametags. I suspected this would happen, as my name is frequently misspelled. But I did not blame the keeper of the nametags. It seemed the person in my office who had signed me up for this seminar had severely butchered my name. Yes, I've been here a year and a half. She should know how to spell my name by now. I suspect she just doesn't care to attempt to get it right.

At any rate, once I went through every possible name configuration that I could think of, we finally found a nametag that was close enough to a name I might answer to. Whatever. I borrowed the nametag keeper's pen and scratched out as much of the name on the tag as I could, attempting to replace it with my actual, real name. This was a networking gig, as well as a seminar. Might bode well for me if I have my name correctly spelled for all to see.

I attached my nametag to me, and made my way to the table where the food sat waiting for me. I grabbed some grub and found a seat, settling in for a three-hour seminar on fundraising. Blech.

Another person sat down at the table I had chosen, and promptly introduced herself to me. She also promptly called me by the name I had crossed out on my nametag. Hmmm. I guess people can see through lines of pen markings. The nametag needed more work.

I removed the nametag and scribbled furiously over the incorrect name, and then re-traced my actual name several times to make it stand out better. There. That should do it.

Of course, by now my nametag looked as though a first grade child had gotten ahold of it and scribbled it to nearly to death. So much for staying inside the lines. My, how professional of me.

I endured the seminar, all the while enjoying the fact that it was during work hours and technically qualified as work, yet I was not in my office. Hee hee.

As the seminar adjourned, I reached to remove my nametag. But then remembering that I still needed the nametag to talk to people on my way out the door, so that they would clearly see my name and remember it in all it's scratched out glory, I decided to keep the nametag in place for now. I made a mental note to remove the nametag on my way to the car so that I wouldn't accidentally wear it around all day. Because I didn't want to be the loser with the nametag on all day. That would suck.

Then, as with almost all of my mental notes, I promptly forgot the note to remove the tag, approximately ten seconds after I made the mental note. My brain is not designed to remember things. And yet I always forget that.

I eventually wandered out of the building, got in the car, and drove away. Of course, I made no attempt to notice I was still wearing my nametag. I decided to run a quick errand on the way to my office, since the seminar had finished early anyway. Poor, stupid me.

Fortunately I only went to the post office, and there weren't many people in line. But I proudly got out of the car and passed a few people on the way into the building, still sporting my nametag. Then I waited in a short line, fortunately with very few people around, still sporting my nametag. Now that I think about it, the counter helper person gave me an odd look when I approached the counter and told her what I needed. But I didn't really think anything of it because she's a new worker at this post office, so how do I know she doesn't always have that strange look on her face? And of course at this point I still didn't realize I was still wearing the nametag.

I proudly walked out of the building, and not only was I still sporting the nametag, I tripped on a crack in the sidewalk, drawing the attention of several people in the parking lot. I didn't fall, but I did interrupt my carefree stride to the car. It was one of those cracks you don't see, before or after you trip over it. So to everyone else around it looks like you just don't know how to walk.

I proudly walked into my office building, checked my mailbox, passed a few people in the hall, and finally made it to my office. Only then did I notice that my purse strap caught on something attached to my shirt, as I removed the strap from my shoulder to put my purse down. Aaah. I'm still wearing my nametag. Dangit. Way to go, Einstein.

I finally removed the nametag and promptly wadded it up and threw it in the trash, now remembering how I had reminded myself to remove the nametag before getting in the car, to save myself from wearing the tag anywhere other than the seminar.

Oh well. At least anyone who noticed the nametag after I left the seminar would have had a tough time figuring out my name. I'm sure the excessive scribbling didn't attract any additional attention.

Not at all.

C.T.