Life: The Compliment Sandwich

If you’ve ever had a performance review, you know all about the compliment sandwich.

It’s supposed to lessen the blow of criticism. It gives you a high five, punches you in the face and ends with ice cream.

Por ejemplo:

“Jackie, you are extremely creative and bring some great ideas to team meetings. Unfortunately, you are a horrible writer and we’re terminating your employment, effective immediately. Lastly, I like those earrings, green is a good color on you.”

See what I did there?

I’ve decided to add a reoccuring theme to my blog called “Life: The Compliment Sandwich” and discuss something I like, something I hate, and then something I like, again. Hopefully, by using this tried-and-true feedback method, life will eventually improve its overall performance.

Life, I love….

The combination apple corer/slicer. Holy cow. This had made eating an apple an efficient and enjoyable experience. I won’t even consider eating an apple without one. I have one in my office and one at home. I don’t know how I survived without it for so long. All that gnawing and spinning the apple in your hand to approach it from another angle. If you don’t stop biting soon enough, you end up at the seeds. I never really had that problem because about three bites into an apple, I was bored and just stopped. Apple? No thanks, that seems like too much work. I always wished apples came in neat, prepackaged slices like its long time comparative counterpart, the orange. Combination apple corer/slicer makes what seemed like an impossible dream…a reality.

Life, I hate….

Puka shell necklaces on guys. Stop the insanity. It’s like a beacon hanging from your neck , just peeking around the corner of your collar, telling women around you, “Hey ladies, do NOT take me seriously.”

Guys, if you’re approaching a rack of necklaces and other assorted neck wear, recite the following:

If it’s from the sea...just let it be.

Life, I love….

Unexpectedly finding money in a pair of jeans, winter coat, during a purse change or inside of the front pocket of a hooded sweatshirt. The other day I was making a brown purse to black purse transition and found $10 in the small zippered section. Granted, that money was mine to begin with, so it’s not like it’s “new money” and all of a sudden you have $10 you didn’t have before. You always had it, you just didn’t know its exact location. Here I am, going about my day, having NO idea that I’m secretly on a treasure hunt. You would have thought I found the meaning of life. Maybe the meaning of life is money by surprise? If money was no object (which it very much is) I would just hide money in clothes on purpose, to be found at a later date. You know, be the change you wish to see in the world....