holiday happenings
Against all odds, I have been invited to the office Christmas party, which is to be held at a swank French restaurant next Saturday. None of my other offices have invited their temps to off-site shindigs (or did they do so and just not invite ME? - what a thought!). Either way, I'm invited this time, and I'm going! Because one of my continuing resolutions is to Be More Social. Add in one of my guiding life principles, Don't Turn Down A Free Meal, and I've got to go.
Problems: Lack appropriate clothing. Also, lack dreamy date to whisk me out of the occasion should it turn horrid and boring.
The first can be solved by throwing money around, which I am very good at (See Exhibit A: A Respectable Savings Account, My Troubling Lack Thereof). The second could possibly be solved by throwing money around as well, but some blatant traffic violations aside, I generally try to respect the law.
**This LJ-Entry Has Been Interrupted By A Stage Three Neurotic Freakout**
Oh my God. So here I am, peacefully sitting at my desk, avoiding work, when one of the secretaries came up to my desk and said, "So, my sister has been going on this website, Big Beautiful Women-dot-com, to meet guys, and she's really liked them," at which point one corner of my brain went to Emergency Maintenance Mode (which consists of two main thoughts: (1) Smile politely, and (2) Nod every three seconds) while the rest of me engaged in a Stage Three Neurotic Freakout.
Thought One: Oh my God. Am I a Big Beautiful Woman? Am I? I do have to get in shape, of course. But. AM I?
Thought Two: Not that there's anything WRONG with big beautiful women!
Thought Three: Time to nod again.
Thought Four: Did she just say her sister drove out to Turning Stone to meet this random guy she met on the website? Did she not see that incredibly scary episode of The X-Files?
Thought Five: Oh my God. I will have to wear a housedress to the Christmas party.
Thought Six: Time to nod again.
Thought Seven: Maybe I shouldn't be so egotistical - maybe she's just sharing because she likes to share! Or because she wants to try it herself! Maybe it's - oh, fuck it. I'm not skinny, it shouldn't be a shocker to have someone else imply something you can see with your eyes. I know that! There is no need to freak out! I am a secure, confident woman!
Thought Eight: Still freaking out. Why am I freaking out?
Thought Nine: Because that's what I DO.
Thought Ten: I should not have had peanut butter cups after lunch.
Thought Eleven: Time to nod - no, laugh this time, she told a joke.
Thought Twelve: And. . . she's gone.
Okay. So. Apparently my workday is not complete without one moment that makes me want inflict an injury to cut my day short. Yesterday's was this exchange:
Random Secretary (Actually, Same Secretary As Above): So, no holiday decorations yet?
Fearless Temp: No. . . Am I supposed to do that?
RS: [Person I'm Filling In For] always did.
Internal Fearless Temp: Fuck
External Fearless Temp: Okay. Well, just tell me what to do, I'll do it. I have to warn you, I'm not really the decorating type - I'm not sure I'll even know how.
RS: [three-second stare] How old are you?
FT: Twenty-four.
RS: Well, it's time you learned.
And then she went out to smoke.
But today is Friday and I am banishing all work-related negativity from my mind! BANISHING!
**This will conclude the Neurotic Freakout portion of this entry.**
Post-work I am off to visit Kristen the Republican Bride and family, which includes six-month-old-Republican-in-Training Ethan, a.k.a. the CUTEST BABY EVER (with the exception of my cousin Meg's daughter Abby). On the way I have to pick up birthday card for Kristen, and possible movie to watch. Dilemma: I have no time to shop for a gift, so I will not be giving her one, and I honestly think our friendship has stepped down from gift-level-friendship to card-level-friendship but there's always the risk of being wrong. Will likely end up buying Adidas perfume at CVS as desperate, last-ditch attempt at gift.
Dammit, I forgot to water the plants. Want to go HOME!
Dammit, I forgot to water the plants. Want to go HOME!
Problems: Lack appropriate clothing. Also, lack dreamy date to whisk me out of the occasion should it turn horrid and boring.
The first can be solved by throwing money around, which I am very good at (See Exhibit A: A Respectable Savings Account, My Troubling Lack Thereof). The second could possibly be solved by throwing money around as well, but some blatant traffic violations aside, I generally try to respect the law.
**This LJ-Entry Has Been Interrupted By A Stage Three Neurotic Freakout**
Oh my God. So here I am, peacefully sitting at my desk, avoiding work, when one of the secretaries came up to my desk and said, "So, my sister has been going on this website, Big Beautiful Women-dot-com, to meet guys, and she's really liked them," at which point one corner of my brain went to Emergency Maintenance Mode (which consists of two main thoughts: (1) Smile politely, and (2) Nod every three seconds) while the rest of me engaged in a Stage Three Neurotic Freakout.
Thought One: Oh my God. Am I a Big Beautiful Woman? Am I? I do have to get in shape, of course. But. AM I?
Thought Two: Not that there's anything WRONG with big beautiful women!
Thought Three: Time to nod again.
Thought Four: Did she just say her sister drove out to Turning Stone to meet this random guy she met on the website? Did she not see that incredibly scary episode of The X-Files?
Thought Five: Oh my God. I will have to wear a housedress to the Christmas party.
Thought Six: Time to nod again.
Thought Seven: Maybe I shouldn't be so egotistical - maybe she's just sharing because she likes to share! Or because she wants to try it herself! Maybe it's - oh, fuck it. I'm not skinny, it shouldn't be a shocker to have someone else imply something you can see with your eyes. I know that! There is no need to freak out! I am a secure, confident woman!
Thought Eight: Still freaking out. Why am I freaking out?
Thought Nine: Because that's what I DO.
Thought Ten: I should not have had peanut butter cups after lunch.
Thought Eleven: Time to nod - no, laugh this time, she told a joke.
Thought Twelve: And. . . she's gone.
Okay. So. Apparently my workday is not complete without one moment that makes me want inflict an injury to cut my day short. Yesterday's was this exchange:
Random Secretary (Actually, Same Secretary As Above): So, no holiday decorations yet?
Fearless Temp: No. . . Am I supposed to do that?
RS: [Person I'm Filling In For] always did.
Internal Fearless Temp: Fuck
External Fearless Temp: Okay. Well, just tell me what to do, I'll do it. I have to warn you, I'm not really the decorating type - I'm not sure I'll even know how.
RS: [three-second stare] How old are you?
FT: Twenty-four.
RS: Well, it's time you learned.
And then she went out to smoke.
But today is Friday and I am banishing all work-related negativity from my mind! BANISHING!
**This will conclude the Neurotic Freakout portion of this entry.**
Post-work I am off to visit Kristen the Republican Bride and family, which includes six-month-old-Republican-in-Training Ethan, a.k.a. the CUTEST BABY EVER (with the exception of my cousin Meg's daughter Abby). On the way I have to pick up birthday card for Kristen, and possible movie to watch. Dilemma: I have no time to shop for a gift, so I will not be giving her one, and I honestly think our friendship has stepped down from gift-level-friendship to card-level-friendship but there's always the risk of being wrong. Will likely end up buying Adidas perfume at CVS as desperate, last-ditch attempt at gift.
Dammit, I forgot to water the plants. Want to go HOME!
Dammit, I forgot to water the plants. Want to go HOME!