Yada yada yada

I thought my inbox was going to implode yesterday.

It was overloaded, which means I was overloaded.

326 emails, the majority of them useless, but nonetheless, I have to sit there and sift through them looking for my needle in the haystack.

Perhaps a better way to describe the way I usually feel on days like this is to share an excerpt from 

"How Ronald Reagan Changed My Life" by Peter Robinson:

The Pony In the Dung Heap
When Life Buries You, Dig
Journal Entry, June 2002:

Over lunch today I asked Ed Meese about one of Reagan's favorite jokes. "The pony joke?" Meese replied. "Sure I remember it. If I heard him tell it once, I heard him tell it a thousand times."

The joke concerns twin boys of five or six. Worried that the boys had developed extreme personalities -- one was a total pessimist, the other a total optimist -- their parents took them to a psychiatrist.

First the psychiatrist treated the pessimist. Trying to brighten his outlook, the psychiatrist took him to a room piled to the ceiling with brand-new toys. But instead of yelping with delight, the little boy burst into tears. "What's the matter?" the psychiatrist asked, baffled. "Don't you want to play with any of the toys?" "Yes," the little boy bawled, "but if I did I'd only break them."

Next the psychiatrist treated the optimist. Trying to dampen his out look, the psychiatrist took him to a room piled to the ceiling with horse manure. But instead of wrinkling his nose in disgust, the optimist emitted just the yelp of delight the psychiatrist had been hoping to hear from his brother, the pessimist. Then he clambered to the top of the pile, dropped to his knees, and began gleefully digging out scoop after scoop with his bare hands. "What do you think you're doing?" the psychiatrist asked, just as baffled by the optimist as he had been by the pessimist. "With all this manure," the little boy replied, beaming, "there must be a pony in here somewhere!"

"Reagan told the joke so often," Meese said, chuckling, "that it got to be kind of a joke with the rest of us. Whenever something would go wrong, somebody on the staff would be sure to say, "There must be a pony in here somewhere.'"

I love that story. My dad used to say that catch phrase when we'd be in deep doo-doo at the print shop with some monumental problem and we were trying to dig our way out.

But anyway, nostalgia aside, it very much applies to my current life sifting through all the people that have emailed me their resumes. By the end of the day I get a little tired, so the people that just ramble on and on make it harder to find my pony. But still, it's my job to do so; I feel compelled to try and pay attention and follow along, just in case I'm missing something good.

Here's an example of one such email I opened up around 4:45 pm:

"Work Experience:

I have not worked for 19 months because I have been attendant college courses, but at the same time I have serving in church, in the past three years, the last time I have worked way in September, 2009 for a hotel, but now I am only attendent part time college courses and I have been looking in past two years for part time job that could help me be flexible in growing my experience. I am confidant you will give me chance and my full potential I will show in the workforce, joyful working time in your company."

Uh, nope. 

No pony here.

Next!