It matters if the toilet paper rolls from the top of the roll or the bottom. Articles have been written on the subject. Memes have blasted around the Internet. Not long ago, I had my own epiphany thanks to a roll of toilet paper.
From the Top
I once read in a reputable magazine that more successful people make sure their toilet paper rolls from the top.
In fact, I think they made some cool-sounding quip like: over-achievers roll over the top. Get it?
I recall checking out my toilet paper the next time I was in the restroom. And switching it from its under-achieving state of being.
“My husband must have put that roll out.”
That under-achieving man! Everyone knew a Type A perfectionist like me would go far in the world.
If that meant getting my toilet paper from the top of the roll instead of the bottom? What could it possibly hurt?
From the Bottom
But you know how different experts have differing opinions about everything. This includes the issue of how toilet paper rolls.
Somewhere at some point after my roll-reversal, I read there was another reason people might let toilet paper dispense from the underside of the roll.
This genius claimed that cat owners rolled their paper that way. Apparently, it made that tempting paper more difficult for cats to unroll. Or maybe it made the paper a less-attractive target.
It’s been many years since I discovered this amazing news.
I could put my toilet paper back to under-achieving mode. And blame it on my cats. For real.
And of course I did it. Not even blinking at how this might make me look in the eyes of people who knew about the over-over quip.
I didn’t even work this new information about cats with toilet paper fetishes into the conversation. Too often.
How it Made Rejection Okay
Fast forward to a recent day in the life of an author who reached the twelve-week point of no return.
What I mean to say is, the publisher that asked for my dystopian young adult novel still had the manuscript well beyond the promised eight-to-ten week notification window.
It had been a couple weeks since the publisher’s editor said that the manuscript was at the top of the pile. It would be read next. The publisher was giving it due-diligence.
And the toilet paper rolled from the underside of the dispenser.
At that moment a light went on.
I was getting rejected because I had allowed my cats to dictate my success.
Rather than demanding that I step up and succeed, I’d compromised by flipping the toilet paper rolls.
It wasn’t my lack of writing credentials. Nothing about my story lacked.
I just needed to flip the stupid toilet paper roll over. And BAM-success would follow.
As I reached to do the deed, it occurred to me that once I flipped the toilet paper roll around and claimed my right to over-achievement, my scapegoat for failure would no longer be available.
I told you this whole issue of how to roll your toilet paper was of utmost importance.
So, what do you think? Did I flip it or not?