Today I walked into work only to have our children's librarian tell me she'd forgotten to do my evaluation when I'd reached my 1-year anniversary at the library.
Now, I know I don't suck at my job, like Cannon Fodder does. I don't kill people, swear at little children just to watch them cry, or light books on fire for fun.
But whenever there's a "grade" on the line, the lobe of my brain that lives for perfection (or as close as is humanly possible to perfection) wakes up and starts telling me everything I've ever done wrong, just so that I don't forget.
Like the time I accidentally waived a fine instead of clicking the "pay" button.
The time I tried to plunge the toilet a patron told me was overflowing and was unsuccessful, leading to the calling of a plumber.
The time I kicked out those kids mostly just because I found them distracting and obnoxious.
They deserved it.
Or the time we set the alarm and left, but some woman went downstairs and we didn't see her, leading to her being in the building after the alarm was set, leading to the alarm going off, leading to everyone In Charge being called out to the library in the middle of the night to deactivate it.
True, the last one was only partially my fault, but as I sit here thinking about my evaluation being written, I can think only of what I've done badly.
Why is it that my brain works this way? You'd think that, with all the things I do right, at least one of them would come to mind when evaluation time rolls around. But right now, I've got nothing.
It doesn't even help me to know that my evaluator really gives the most glowing reviews of my behavior that I've ever seen. She makes it seem that I'm an angel sent from heaven to plan YA programming.
What is the matter with me?*
*And no, that doesn't have to be rhetorical. You can feel free to answer.