Why I Shouldn't Be Allowed to Go on the Internet

I'm not a believer in the Zodiac or astrology or any of the dark arts...and yet somehow I found myself researching the Chinese zodiac. I was born in the year of the Dragon...Fire Dragon to be specific. I was reading the description of those born in the year of the Dragon to see if I saw any of myself or my Dragon friends in the words on screen.

Here are excerpts of what Wikipedia has to say about those born during the year of the Dragon:

"The Dragon is the symbol of power and wealth. Because they are larger than life themselves, dragon people like to do everything on a grand scale. If a dragon's friend faces a problem or dilemma, he or she will be there to offer help, and when others leave the field of battle the dragon takes a step forward to solve the problem with authority and dignity.

Ideal jobs for dragons include kings, military officer, politician, musician, buffers, poet, artist, biological and environmental engineer, stockbroker, athlete, trade union leader, company director, explorer, and attorney."

Here I must pause. I was more than a little surprised to see "king" as an ideal job for....well...anyone. I went to a good school, attended career fairs, did a lot of internships, took several executive education courses. Most of the companies I've worked for (though in fairness, not in any of the roles listed above) put considerable emphasis on employee development.

At no point did anyone suggest I get on the "king" track.

The question is, why didn't they? Dragon or not, there's no question I would make a GREAT king. Especially if I were primarily a figurehead and all the work and responsibility rested squarely on the shoulders of a prime minister. I submit to you as evidence:

• I love wearing robes -- and crowns!
• I excel at telling people what to do.
• I welcome fawning adoration.
• Pointless shows of pomp and circumstance might be my favorite thing in the whole world.
• I can work a scepter like nobody's business.

And yet, no one suggested I become king of Norway, Qatar or even King of Prussia mall? I would get into a whole thing about how the American post-secondary education system has failed to prepare our children for viable careers and we need more opportunities for women and blah blah blah...

but the truth is I'm going to spend the rest of the day looking for headhunters who specialize in "king" placements.

The Incredible Shrinking Personal Space

So I'm in the security line at the airport this afternoon and it's unbelievably long. I take the same flight on the same day every week and today was the first time in a long time that the line was this long. In all, it took half an hour to get through security; so long that my flight was already boarding by the time I made it through.

Of course, it was my good fortune that the woman standing behind me in the security line made it a point to bump into me each and every time the line moved. A line long enough to take 30 minutes to get through moves often, if not quickly. Any time the line moved a centimeter, the woman behind me stepped up six inches -- which means she bumped into me each and every time...for half an hour.

I tried to distance myself from her by keeping my luggage at arm's length behind me, thus making it impossible for her to bump into me. Not to be thwarted, she then started bumping into my bag instead of my body. Then I tried to avoid moving any time the line moved some infinitesimally small distance and restricted my movements to meaningful advances in the line. My bumpy neighbor decided to move every time the people in front of me moved whether I moved or not.

Unable to hold my tongue any longer (and afraid to bludgeon her to death for fear of missing my flight) I turned to her to say, "Please stop doing that." Before the word "please" was out of my mouth, she said "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," which said to me that she knew exactly what she had been doing for the preceding half hour.

What I don't understand is how she thought bumping into me constantly would get her through the security line any faster. Bumping into me didn't make the dozens of people in line in front of me disappear. It didn't cause them to separate their laptops and liquids from the rest of their belongings any faster. It didn't even cause that ten-second delay that each person who goes through the scanner must wait to go by any more quickly. So what did she get out of it?

Patience is a virtue. This woman definitely needs Angry Birds.