The other day I found a pair of work jeans in my possession that I hadn't used in a while, so I wore them to work. These jeans had splotches of yellow paint on them. When I was in Mexico, our team painted the porch yellow.
I realised part way through the day: when I put those pants on in the morning, I had sub-consciously hoped everyone around me would realise the yellow pain was from Mexico and be amazed I went to Mexico.
I mean, really?! It's as stupid as it sounds. I started off a day expecting others to think I am amazing. And how on earth were they supposed to know all that about me from paint spots on my jeans?
Seriously, Pete: life is not about you.
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