Homecoming Queen 2009

After a weekend of drunken debauchery with the family, I came into work with a new attitude. I realized that I need to start playing the game in order to get anywhere, and this was a game that I resented from my first day. However, it occurred to me after a few pints of Smithwicks, that in order to get places in life, you have to play by certain rules, even if you hate yourself for abiding by them, you must do it…that is, until I own my own company and then I can make my own rules. (Rule #1: white board makers for everyone!)

Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I have a hard time hiding the fact that I dislike someone. I despise being fake and take it as a personal insult when others are fake to me. I don’t expect everyone to like me nor do I expect to like everyone I meet, but don’t pretend like you are my bestest friend in the whole world when you really just don’t like me; it just infuriates me. If I don’t like someone, I am cordial without going over the top, but don’t try very hard to be friends with them. Some see that as being bitchy, I just see it as saving us both energy and time. My brother would disagree and say that I’m not even cordial and I’m a downright bitch if I don’t like you, but then again, he shouldn't’t have brought Ms.”I can’t have my food touch each other and will only eat things made from Splenda” Whore home to meet the family. He knew how I was and what he was exposing her to. I’m sorry if I couldn't’t stand her within the first 5 min and didn’t want to be fake. It’s not my style. Thank god they broke up.

Anyway, my work persona, is the nicest, friendliest, most hard working gal pretending to be engaged that you wouldn’t even know it’s me. That’s right, I rock a ring on my left hand and if anyone asks, I say that I have a boyfriend. I haven’t formulated a full story yet because I’m waiting to see how some things pan out, but at work, I am taken. I give everyone I see a giant smile and cheery “Hi/Good Morning/How are you” that sometimes I want to run and vomit in a corner while I jack myself in the face. I crack jokes to my boss and make sure he knows that I could not do my job without him there and that I need him around almost as much as I need oxygen to survive.

I feel as though I am campaigning for Homecoming Queen. I’m about two fake smiles away from handing out fliers and buttons that say “Help me keep my job…June 1st is when my probationary period is done” and making promises about home made cookies every other Friday or first round of drinks being on me for as long as I am employed here. I feel that my song should be “Glamorous” by Fergie, mostly because I was strutting around my lab rocking out to that song more than anything. Each day I hate myself a little more, and each morning I wake up with a little less self respect. But then I remember that I didn’t have that much self respect to begin with and at least I have a job. So until June 1st, after which I will be considered a ‘real’ employee, vote for me! I promise to continue to make you think I love what I’m doing and wouldn’t want to be anywhere else….while I’m secretly wanting to blow my brains out and can’t wait for that first drink when I get home.

LOVE!