It isn't unusual for me, at this time of year, to look back and take stock of my life. Naturally, work is a huge part of this reflection. Have I made a mark? Am I valuable? Can I continue doing what I'm doing without slitting my wrists? You know--the basic questions everyone asks.
I won't lie. This year has been a difficult year. My work assignments have been doubled for no other reason than I didn't have "enough boxes" under my name in the organizational chart. Way to devalue everything I've done for the last 12 years!
But hey, everyone has bumps in the road, and it didn't stop me from smiling when I got the invitation to the company's annual Christmas party. It was lovely.
Until I read it.
My name was wrong—my first name.
I've been at the company 16 years, 12 of which have been spent in my current office. I've made such an impression that "Kate" and "Kevin" are interchangeable. I can't even blame autocorrect. The invitations were hand-written.
Now, I'm sure there are a million good reasons for this—1) someone new to the office had the task, 2) the person above me on the list might have been Kevin, and the writer just lost their place, or 3) person addressing was distracted by someone named Kevin. We've all made these mistakes. It's not tragic. But it did make me laugh, and I will use this as a constant argument with people who tell me that I'm not nearing total invisibility in Los Angeles.
I wonder if Kevin has been added to payroll. Will he get a bonus? Because I could use some extra cash.
Kate, Making My Mark in LA