The past couple of weeks have been pretty rough for me at work. I almost got fired once and today, on the coattails of my brush with unemployment, I made a mistake of epic proportions.

For most people, this wouldn’t be so bad. I mean, as of 6:20 PM I still have a job, right?

But for whatever reason I seem to have some sort of Rolodex in my brain where some sadist asshole (read: me) has recorded each and every failure I’ve ever made in my history. Consequently, each time I fail, that Rolodex (or failodex, if you will) comes to life and starts spinning furiously, spitting out painful excerpts from each fail-entry for me to relive. It’s as if each time I fail, I’ve failed each of my past failures all over again.

And I am crushed into nothing. Just a shell of a girl who once had promise.

A few minutes ago as I was soaking in my consolatory not-hot-enough bubble bath (formulated with dish soap because, alas, I’ve failed at buying more bubble bath) chugging my consolatory bottle (not glass) of riesling, the failodex began to rear its ugly head. Under usual circumstances, my next move would be to get out of the bath, dig my journal out of my purse, and begin to scribble down the most hateful, obscene things about myself imaginable.

But this time, I decided to try something different. I decided to turn to my blog, where I’m accountable to my readers.

You see, when it comes to my written journal, I’m the only one (hopefully) that will ever see what’s inside. I have free reign to dig myself into the deepest hole of self-degradation possible, only to go back and read it the next time I fail and remember just how crappy of a person I am. But Lindsay Durrenberger happens to have friends, and I know they don’t want me to talk badly about her on the Internet.

So instead, today, I’d like to create a winodex (if for nothing else, a way for me to stop feeling so darn crappy about myself.)

Here are some examples of times I’ve been a winner at life:

This is a picture of me after I got hit on by a very attractive boy. He gave me his phone number on the dollar. He ended up being a total creep, but for the time being, I was a winner.

This is a picture from my wedding day, where I made the best decision ever. I married the best guy a girl could ask for. WIN.

Here, my good friend Chelsea and I are about to split a weird sausage in Elberta, Alabama. Chelsea got sick to her stomach afterward. I did not because I’m a winner.

Here I’m about to blow out candles on a birthday cake made for me by my very best friend Nikki. My friend Kyle is in the background making a really stupid face. I win because it’s my birthday, and also because my face looks better than Kyle’s.

My good friend Jessica and my husband Dan are making a heart around me because they love me. I win.

I got to go to Scotland when I was studying abroad in London. This is where this picture was taken. Winners are cultured. Hence, I win.

Dan and I went as Jim and Pam for Halloween a couple years ago. We obviously win at this.

This was taken right after Dan proposed to me. Is this picture full of win or what?

For those of you who know me well, you know I hate cold weather. This was taken when Dan and I went to Illinois to visit his family. I didn’t complain ONCE the entire trip about how cold I was. WIN WIN WIN.

Hopefully this will help me with future failures.