Thursday, March 8, 2012

I've penciled myself in to care sometime next week

While the IM notification blinked on my screen I did my very best to ignore the urge to maximize and attend to my friend's talk. Yet again, a new person had been seated at my desk ready to absorb the vast amount of knowledge I had to impart. As I explained the importance of properly noting accounts, how to dial by mouse click, where you might go to add a new contact to the company's file, and the why he should even care... the orange message indicator beckoned, "Look at me, Angie. You know you want to. Just a quick glimpse. Make the orange light go away. C'mon... click me baby"

When I noticed my trainee's attention had been lured away by one of our standard inappropriate over the wall conversations I knew it was my chance. I maximized the message and began to read. "Who's the hottie?" I heard from behind me. BUSTED! It was too late to go back now. Who knew how long he had been looking at my conversation? "What are you talking about?" I asked.

The newb leaned forward and tapped my picture on the screen. "Her." he replied.

"That's me you jackass." I snapped.

"Oh, doesn't look like you." he said.

"Well that's because in that picture the smile on my face is real, my hair is done, I'm dressed like I care, and my eyes aren't dead." I explained.

That's how it is, folks. When you don't care... it shows. Perhaps it's a matter of not feeling like there is anyone I need to "dress to impress", or maybe that I have spent so much time outside of the corporate dress code that I have forgotten what it feels like to look professional at my desk. Either way, I've become that girl who lives in jeans (sometimes fashionably holey ones), the standard layered t-shirt, and shoes.

The beginning of the end was the day I wandered into the office for a short day wearing running shorts, t-shirt, Nikes, and a baseball cap. When I returned from break to find that my boss had printed a fake Boston Marathon participant number and taped it to my chair I knew that I had to dial back the slacker. I have tried since to make sure that I dress in business casual a minimum of one day a week, and I usually hit the mark. Unfortunately, it now looks like I'm scheduling interviews right after work.

So as of right now, this very minute, I am going to up the ante. My new goal is to dress like a professional twice a week. I vow to wear pants with creases in them, shirts that don't have logos, skirts that don't belong with tank tops, and shoes that don't easily transition to the treadmill. I will wear the tall boots, the classy shoes, the jewelry I have spent so much time collecting, and I will even do my hair. Just not tomorrow. I mean really... it's casual Friday. Hell, I might not even wear pants. Unless I manage to go on a date. Then I am not wearing pants for sure. Definitely a skirt... and a pretty blouse... and some rouge... and an apron. Men dig aprons, right?

Next week though, I'm totally going to care. Really. I mean it.

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