Top Banana

I think I may have figured out why I'm not exactly functioning to full capacity in my adult life.

I need a sticker system.

In primary school most teachers had a system of reward whereby each achievement was marked with a small stamp or sticker and when a student had accrued a certain number of stickers a huge, glittery sticker was awarded and displayed proudly in the pages of an exercise book, or on a school uniform collar.

The reward system of adult life is somewhat less tangible. The huge glittery stickers I have received over the past five years; graduating uni, promotions, happy times in relationships- have each brought with them little barnacles of sorrow and doubt and, consequently, I have never really displayed them quite so proudly on my collar.

My adult life system of punishment, however, is infinitely easier to grasp, as every hiccup, every pitfall I experience, I have berated myself sharply for, and promptly sent myself for time-out on the silver seats.

This is why I need someone, an external mentor, to dole out the stickers when I deserve them. Last week I did my tax return which was, for the first time in my life, on time. THAT, deserved a gold star. On Sunday I finally bought a pair of jeans to replace the ones with a massive gaping hole in my 'ladies area'. The same jeans I continued wearing for months since said hole appeared. THAT deserves a gold star, and every day I get out of my warm bed to travel by two trains and a bus to NORTH RYDE to go to work, and in my opinion, I deserve a gold star for every day I have done that, not just the paltry reward of being paid enough to sustain my existence with mi gorings and gin.