By Mike Johnson
Forty years ago, July 11 saw me part of a corporate celebration. This has to be a dream because there is no earthly way four decades have passed.
I was visiting one of my seven assigned stores (#20793) when my district manager dropped by. There were 32 stores in the district so it was a random meeting.
Because it was 7/11 Day, we had many customer appreciation specials running and the atmosphere was that of a company picnic. Everything was festive and less formal. Sort of like working on a Saturday. My wife and two-year-old daughter were riding stores with me.
Denny was normally a rigid boss but today, even he was loose and casual. My memory has him posing for a photo with my family, big smile on his face.
Why some scenes imprint in memory is a big mystery. I suppose all memories are in there somewhere but a select few are automatically recalled.
This is one of them. For some reason, itís become the cover shot of my mental 7-Eleven file.
My ten years of 7-Eleven memories are in deep archive, representing the full range of emotion. Each incident was so large and important as it played out moment-by-moment. Today, I canít recall even one percent of those 87,600 hours of employment.
Thereís a lesson in here somewhere.
Oh yeah. Donít take things so seriously. Everything comes and goes. Despite appearances, little of it is significant enough to standout later.
In effect, itís all just a simulation. How real was it if you canít even remember it?
No one remembers the grit that polished the agate. They focus on the agate.
So don't sweat the grit.
Youíre the agate.
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Why Hard Work is a Big Mistake
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