No one can ever say I'm not a giver.
I've always been the court jester. Unfortunately, it hasn't always been intentional. But for all of my unpredictability in fashion, grooming, class, or manners, I've always been consistent in making those around me look better. You're welcome, those around me.
In grade school, high school, and college, I could be counted upon to be the most obnoxious person in the room. Sometimes it's charming. It certainly got my friends married faster..."well, she does burp, but her friend Julie burps louder"...."she was drunk, but her friend Julie was drunker"..."she can pack away the food, but did you see her friend Julie?" As I've said before, Current Husband and I were both on a mission to pick the most inappropriate person to marry, and by some strange blessing, we ended up actually being pretty good for each other. (CH loves his women gassy, drunk and gluttonous, which has the little-known side effect of occasionally ending up in marriage and pregnancy. In this case, in that order.)
As I mentioned in my last post, I have a history as a working girl, which mainly sounds like I spent my time drawing a paycheck with my breasts out. You would think that kind of job description pays more, but in my world they call it "Marketing" or "Event Planning". So far, I've managed to keep my breasts covered at the new job. For now. However, I've been reminded rather quickly what my typical working existence is like.
TWO NIGHTS BEFORE
I select my outfit. Feel extraordinarily organized. I go to bed. At 1 a.m., feeling of euphoria goes away as I start getting abdominal cramps, which always mean I am having an allergic reaction to some as-yet-unidentified food or spice. I take two Benadryl, because I know what is coming. Unspeakable things happen in the next three hours, and I end up going to sleep at 4 a.m. sitting up on the couch, drenched in sweat and down 8 pounds. Large black circles form under my eyes.
Going to bed early because I only got about four hours of sleep previous night. Look at outfit I selected and realize shirt has stain on front. Nice catch, Julie! Select another shirt. Program coffee. Get abdominal cramps again. This is weird, usually the food allergy thing happens at 1 a.m. or so. Oh no. It can't be....it is. My period. Early. Now I will be going to my first day of work on Day 2. Thank you, Eve. Hope the apple was delicious.
Wake up not feeling like I can wear white pants, swim or go horseback riding. Fortunately, my job requires none of these things. Shuffle into kitchen for strong, hot, delicious coffee, and WHAT THE HELL!? The timer was set for p.m. and not a.m. Turn coffee pot on to wait for 10 horrible minutes. Have time to look in mirror and see acne outbreak from period. Get dressed for work and leave five minutes later than I planned. Get in car, and halfway to work look down to see dime-sized chocolate mark on front of pants. Fortunately they are black, so I spit shine. Walk into new job with stained pants, acne, huge raccoon rings under my eyes, and bleeding like a stuck pig. Human Resources person is out sick, so I have no e-mail, phone, benefits, or instructions. I get to inconvenience the first person I see, who is not expecting me but has to take me to my desk. En route to my desk, I ask this person, "Where is the nearest bathroom and caffeine dispenser?" I finally have vital information.
No one has asked me to lunch. CH offered to take me to lunch, but I thought I would be in HR, so I said no. Since I didn't go to HR, I don't have an operating phone or e-mail, so I can't Phone a Friend. I'm told to call someone about something, and I have to ask the person next to me how to use the phone. I make the call. I ask the question.
ME: "So can we count on you to donate again this year?"
HER: "What are the dates?"
ME: "Uh...um....I don't know. I'll call the contact and get back to you."
HER: "Why don't I look it up in the file and call you. What's your number?"
ME: "Uh...um...I don't know. It's my first day here."
HER: "Can I e-mail you?"
ME: "Uh...um... I don't know. Can I call you back?"
SUCCESS! I have now made my predecessor look like an absolute genius! She probably got a raise for no reason at that moment. I decide I need a Diet Coke. I ask my boss where to get them. She says she will walk me down to the break room to show me where it is. We are chatting amicably, and then I put my money in the machine. I make my selection, but when I see that ice cold bottle of Diet Coke come down the chute, I can't hold back. I reach for the little door and pull, as my boss says, "Oh, you don't want to..." and then I have jammed the machine. My boss has to grab the door and rock it back and forth for a few minutes, fighting the vending machine for my Diet Coke. I stand and look at her, shamed. She wrenches the door open and hands me the bottle, thinking, "Who have I hired? What have I DONE?"
MONDAY, FOUR P.M.
I've made four trips to the bathroom with my purse, which means I should be presented with my new t-shirt that says, "HEY EVERYONE! I'M HAVING MY PERIOD!" My boss decides I should go downstairs and help another department get a marketing piece out that is past deadline. I am taken to a room and put on a machine that folds letters. The person who shows me how to run the machine is very nice, and she leaves me to do my task. About 30 minutes later, I try to leave, but can't get the door to work. Shortly, someone comes in and says, "It's a good thing I was here...you can't get back in the building from this room without a badge!" Since I didn't go to HR, I didn't get a badge, so I couldn't enter my security building.
- stained clothing
- meth addict eyes and acne
- doesn't know own phone number or e-mail address
- breaks vending machine
- locks self out of building
p.s. Happy Birthday Mom!