It’s nice to get some recognition at work. One place I worked (and you can clearly see I’m not naming any names, here) favored the mouthpiece of the group, the individual enamored with the sound of her own voice.
All up in everyone else’s business, she was the school bully (or the hall monitor). You either had to play nice with her or face consequences. Disagree with her openly and you became the workplace pariah.
Always had to be the best at everything. Always had to have everything. Insecure. Threatened.
Guess who refused to join in any of her reindeer games?
The truth is, I never minded that I wasn’t as wildly talented at teaching as she was supposed to have been. She could have teaching. I’m good at a lot of things.
Teaching was never my true calling and I knew it. I did well enough at it, at least at the preschool level. Writing was and is my first love.
Tales of a Taylor 