REJECTED

I don't know how to tell this story without sounding like a whiny spoiled brat who lacks perspective.  That sentence actually would be a pretty accurate description of me right now.  It's just that ... well, I'll just tell the story. 

The very first booth I visited at the BlogHer expo offered the opportunity to go inside one of those game show-style booths where money blows at you and you have to grab frantically at it for 30 seconds.  The money was Monopoly money, but it was stamped on the back to indicate what prize you got, and one of the prizes was cash. 

In order to win the privilege of going in the booth, you had to put all your contact information into an iPad, which served as an application to be part of the company's affiliate program.  You know, like your blog could be a place to click through to their site, and you would make some itty bitty bit of money when people entered their site through yours.  (It's sort of like what Amazon used to do, but this company wasn't Amazon.) 

I was the very first participant in the booth!  The Monopoly money was still crisp and easy to stuff through the little collection slot.  I ended up with $12 in cash, a t-shirt, a hat, and a water bottle.  I put the water bottle and the hat in the swag recycling box, and I've been wearing the t-shirt to the gym. 

End of story, until about two weeks ago when I got an email from the company saying, "We received your application, and we hope to accept it soon."  The email went on to talk about new legislation regarding affiliate programs, which necessitated a bit more time-consuming red tape before the applications could be processed. 

Still, all of the sudden my hopes were up.  They hoped to accept my application soon!

I didn't give the issue any more thought until this morning when I was at Great Clips with Nathan and my phone's e-mail notification dinged.  (Side note: My new notification ringtone sounds like the first few notes of Bruno Mars' "Rocketeer," which means I get that song stuck in my head every single day.) 

Anyway, the subject line of today's email was:

"Your application to [Company]'s Affiliate Program was rejected" 

Now, here's the thing.  I had no intention of ever applying for that program, and I only filled out the application so I could go in the money booth.  My life does not depend on the pennies I would make each month off that job.  And I know I'm a small-potatoes blogger; I didn't expect to be chosen by their program.  I gave out my contact information to many companies at BlogHer and never expected to hear from them again.

Still, the whole process of having an application and then using the word rejected somehow makes the whole thing needlessly dramatic and disappointing.  It's like that company's affiliate program was a sorority or something. 

Oh, and I come from the overly-coddled generation where minor victories are praised with certificates and minor letdowns need to be couched in the most blow-cushioning way possible.  Case in point: At my college, if you didn't want to opt for the letter-grade choice in a class, you could take it pass/no-pass.  Notice it was not pass/fail.  It was pass/no-pass. 

So I don't really feel good when you use the word rejected.  And while I'm criticizing the company's word choices, why did they say they hoped to accept my application soon?  Why didn't they just keep it neutral and say they hoped to finish processing the applications soon?

So, to recap:

• Low-paying job I didn't care about
• Application I filled out simply to earn the privilege of going in a money booth
• Experience I forgot about
• Email indicates they are interested in me!  Yay greatest job ever!
• Next email says they are rejecting me.  CRUSHING BLOW!
• Now sad and stewing over issue all day/questioning self-worth

It's an interesting example of how putting up the illusion of exclusivity can really manipulate your feelings about how important something is.

But it's also an example of how I really need to get some perspective and just get. over. things.  You know, the other day I was thinking about all the fun opportunities I've been given lately.  Freelance work.  Selling an ad on my blog.  New relationships with companies, which have led to fun swag and giveaways.  Increased readership.  New friends. 

And then, I get a stupid email that includes the word rejected, and I can't help but focus on the negative.  I need more freelance work.  I really don't have anything else to do, work-wise, after my current project ends.  My blog isn't that big, which is why I got rejected.  Oh, and my house is messy and my kid doesn't sleep and, oh yeah, I'm fat. 

And yes, I know I need to focus on the positive.  I know [insert famous author here] got rejected by [insert large number here] publishers before finding somebody who would take on [insert huge mega-bestseller here].  I know that famous athlete was cut from his freshman team.  I know I have to get back on the horse and ride.

I know this isn't even a "get back on the horse and ride" situation, because that would imply that the setback I experienced was severe enough to be analogous to falling off a horse, which is pretty severe.  This was just a job I didn't care about that didn't pay well.  

But still, please don't use the word rejected in the subject line of an email.

This whole situation reminds me of a story my dad likes to tell about smashed pumpkins.  (No, not the Smashing Pumpkins.)  Some time in his early teaching career, my dad organized some kind of a pumpkin-carving activity.  All participants appeared to have a great time.  Except at the end, one kid dropped his pumpkin and was devastated.  My dad could not stop focusing on that one kid's disappointment, even though many, many other kids had a great time and built fond, lasting memories.  Point is, sometimes the rarity of a negative event stands out more in your mind than the many, many positive events do. 

And in my life, there is so, so much positive and so, so little negative.  I know that.  

Still, just for kicks, I cut the company's t-shirt into rags to use for cleaning.  I threw the logo part in the trash.  It's the minor protest that says "I will not be doing any more free advertising for your company," but it's still eco-friendly.