Only Toothless Parrots Succeed.
I seem to only ever succeed at failure. It is a bittersweet irony.
The latest, and most spectacular in some time, involves a trip to Germany over Christmas. So far it appears to have cost me several hundred pounds, a close friendship, and a job that I have longed for over four years to resume. It looked like it might cost me another job too, had the holiday request that I submitted not finally been accepted a mere six days before departure.
On the back of this, and it is a longer and more intricate story than that single paragraph suggests, I have I recently become the benchmark of failure. I know this because a friend said to me “Whenever things go wrong for me, I will think ‘At least I’m not Jordan.'”
By that reckoning, my main problem is that I am Jordan…