The Agony and the Ecstasy!

“Having children is like living in a frat house — nobody sleeps, everything's broken, and there's a lot of throwing up.” —Ray Romano

Hello, my pretties!

I used to work at an accounting firm where my title was "Director of First Impressions". This title made me feel insecure because I'm not confident in my ability to make a good impression. I mostly stare at people or want to be ignored. Anyway, my real title was front desk person. 

I started this job being nervous about the dress code. Dress codes for women are shaky things and I lean towards pretending pajamas are clothes. So I bought tights and got a headache every morning wondering if my clothes were good enough. When I was told that I was hired for my magnificent personality and I should just be myself, I relaxed with my clothes and started being a little experimental. 

Then I was brought into the bosses office and reprimanded for my clothing choices. My boss was being as nice as possible, but in her niceness she was very vague about what was actually wrong with my clothing and what was acceptable. She kept saying torn jeans and cleavage were not acceptable, but I hadn't been wearing torn jeans and showing off my cleavage. 

The only thing I got out of the meeting is that jeans were great because you could dress them up or down. Jeans were great? I was usually taught that jeans were too casual, but since jeans were my only clear direction, my wardrobe became strictly jeans. I didn't get reprimanded after that, but I still worried most days. Should I wear makeup? Was my hair terrible? My grandma told me my hair looked like it had gone through the dishwasher. One time, after spending an hour fixing my hair, my mom shouted at me that I always looked like I just rolled out of bed and I should put some effort into my appearance. I cried and she felt terrible and immediately said, never mind, my hair looked great, but the damage was done; even fixing my hair doesn't work. 

Self-consciousness was a daily struggle, feeling like an unimpressive Director of First Impressions. I eventually got fired from that job for being a mom and needing to take time off for my kids. Those fuckers. 

Anyway, now I work the front desk at a school where dressing in something more than jeans unleashes a waterfall of compliments. I can wear tennis shoes. I can wear t-shirts. I can wear a sloppy ponytail. They are just glad I'm there and doggonit I do a damn good job. Too bad I'm too comfortable to get a job with better pay. 

With love and kisses,

Sophia Skyy