We all know a Debbie Downer. No matter how great the day it is, how beautiful the weather is or what type of awesome news you have to share – often times we find ourselves in the midst of a DD. From now on, I’m making gold out of Debbie Downers.
One thing that irks me is when I plan to do something or announce something new and a DD has to question it – but questions it not in an inquisitive way, but more so in a snootish, envious way. For example, I wanted to trade in my car and get something else. DD came along to ask how I was planning to pay for it. I am a responsible adult and pay for things my way, so why does DD care? Next time I’m going to tell that DD that I plan to buy my next car with the lucky gold I found hidden underneath the dashboard.
I’ve won little contests here and there throughout my life, in different subject matter. I appreciate criticism when it’s constructive, but why keep telling me how much you don’t like what I’ve done? Just because you don’t like something doesn’t mean it’s bad. (I don’t like Star Trek, but obviously there are enough Trekkie fans that outweigh my little opinion.) In my memoir, I mentioned how someone I called “Richard” tried to ruin my golden moment when I won something in junior high. Even though he annoyed me, I wouldn’t let him take that moment away – and I’m not going to allow anyone else to, either.
Another DD couldn’t understand why I wanted to move to another city to take a different job. Because unlike so many other people in this world, I like change and I’m not afraid to take risks. The next time this happens I’m going to tell little Miss DD that I was offered a job digging for gold. And then a month letter I’m going to send her an email telling her I found it!
I’ve also been criticized for my college education because of the majors I chose – instead of being praised for the work I’ve done and accomplishments I’ve made. I suppose that all of the bartenders that have degrees in rocket science are more valuable just because of what their pieces of papers say? The next time someone asks me what I plan to do with my MFA my answer is going to be: I’m going to shove it up my ass and shit golden bricks in the shape of Debbie Downers.