Everyone knows at least one…possibly many, many more overachievers.
They’re the people, usually women, who can simultaneously bake a seven-layer tres leches cake, build a fort with sticks and mud in the back yard and sew costumes for the entire fifth-grade class’ production of “Camelot”.
I know plenty of overachievers, and do not count myself among them.
If I tried to do the above, the fifth-grade class would be covered in milk, the fort would be made out of cake batter, and the cake…well, I guess we all know about the cake.
It’s a lie.
So, instead of attempting to overachieve I simply attempt to be adequate or even mediocre.
I’m pretty good at it, actually.
Which brings me to my point.
Not only do I have to live with the mockery of overachievers, I’ve begun to notice this same pattern of behavior in my daily interaction with machines.
Case in point, my printer.
Whenever it prints, scans, copies or answers the phone and delivers a fax, it announces to the world its wonderful achievement with a grand flourish of music.
And, if that’s not enough I recently replaced my coffeemaker with one that beeps melodiously when it finishes what one can only assume is the perfect pot of coffee. It also beeps two hours later to remind me that, in my mediocrity, I have forgotten to turn it off and it has saved my house from being burnt to the ground.
I have decided that overachievers leave the mud forts every day just to design and build these machines.
Their goal? To mess with me.
I’m onto you folks.
Doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it.
Hey, I have a reputation to uphold after all.