Today was my first day back at work. I decided in honor of this special occasion, I would wear a incredibly amazing outfit in hopes to ward off the bad spirits that inhibit the Agency. After the miscarriage when I was continually sad, my mom did for me what she knew best...brought me shopping with her Macy's credit card. "Anything, just pick out something that'll make you feel pretty again" she told me. Bad thing to say when YOU want to pay and Macy's is having a sale. So I picked out an amazing pair of winter white flare cords with an adorable big button on top. I decided to pair it up today with an even more adorable blue sweater with a stunning beaded flower doodad on the shoulder. Not only will this outfit ward off all bad Agency spirits, but it also didn't comprise of a turtleneck with a camisole underneath and tights which I wear as socks under my pants (the proper attire for the subfreezing Agency in which stupid directors refuse to turn up the heat during the Frozen Tundra coldness). Of course this outfit did signify that it was finally thawing off here which also meant that the snow had melted finally giving way to the first grass spotting in 3 months (and your sad about 65 degrees Mrs. SIL!). This for sure was going to be the most perfect day. Perfect outfit = Perfect Day. That would be so if I hadn't forgotten to figure into that formula the fact that I work for the most insane people on this planet. If there was a prize for stupidity, I would so win it hands down for insisting on torturing myself daily by not quitting and showing up day after day for such horrid people. It's an abusive relationship, I know this. To my face they aren't as petty as they are behind my back. Not like I figured their pettiness would take a vacation on account of my situation, but I truly figured the nit-picking would be about other issues. If I was Dave Letterman right now, the #1 on my top 10 list of things my directors said about me while I was gone would be:
"She's got one foot out the door"
Now, really, I can't argue that one because it is totally true. No, almost true, in reality I now have a foot and half out the door. Just give me another positive pregnancy pee stick and this other half will be completely gone. So folks here's my help wanted ad:
One Adoption Assistant with 2 years worth of experience. Slightly mouthy but a damn good worker. Salary must be enough to support ones eBay addiction for shoes and all things pretty. Only willing to work 32 hours per week to accommodate her need for traveling and sleeping. Planning to be pregnant and quit once wee one is here so job must be temporary.