I don't have a lot of work to do, so I think that after lunch I'm going to find myself in the familiar situation of boredom. Being bored at a new job is the absolute worst because I have no idea how they feel about slackers. And when I say slackers I mean people that are so hyper efficient they've done everything they possibly can, with a full day and a half ahead of them.
Since I'm the only HR person her today and tomorrow I have to be here between regular business hours: 8:30 - 4:30. Hard life. No half hour lunches for me this week.
A couple hours ago I realized that it's boxing week. That means sales. I figured I'd invest in a new pair of half price dress pants to celebrate. Since my new job has the same dress code as the last (business casual) but seems to be more "business" than "casual" (except on casual Fridays) I don't really feel like I can get away with wearing jeans on a daily basis. Hence my interest in another pair of dress pants. The thing is, the only dress pants I found that seemed okay were brown tweed. I'm not sure how I feel about brown tweed.
Brown tweed is one of those things you could probably get away with once in a while but it's not, you know, totally versatile. Plus it's polyester dress pants. My monitor is making all the blacks and greys look like browns, so I'm not really trusting its interpretation of brown tweed.
My life is hard, okay?
Okay, I'm still on the brown tweed fence. I want to look young and hip, not cheap and awkward. You know what I'm talking about. Polyester pants are hard to wear, and gross ones are like wearing sandpaper and Walmart all at once. I don't care that I've gotten some decent stuff from Walmart, it's still not a feeling I want to have.
I need to watch how I present myself, what with already rocking the mom hair and everything. I was at the liquor store buying my father in law his traditional gift of Baileys, and there was a sign that said they ID under 25. I didn't get ID'd. I wanted to ask the guy why he thought I was over 25, then shove my ID in his face and yell at him that I'm 24 and he deserves to be fired for not ID'ing me. Instead I didn't.
I guess that wasn't so bad. The place that had a sign saying they absolutely ID anyone under 49 that didn't ask for my license was the worst. That was even when I had my long, luscious locks. Yeah. Pretty sure I haven't been back since. They must have seen my one grey eyebrow and though "grandma."
I guess the logical thing to do would be to tell you how wonderful my Christmas was. It was wonderful, but I'm not going to. I'm at work. The Christmas Spirit isn't really a thing here.
I did, however, discover that the finance lady working today is basically the most amazing person ever. Instead of saying "awesome" or some equivalent, she says "beautiful." It's so sincere that I want to hug her. If I'm not careful I'll end up telling her my life story just to feel affirmed. Seriously, I'd like to keep her in my pocket for every bad day I ever have just so she can say "beautiful!" about everything and make me feel better about my life.
Even though beautiful's one of those words that doesn't get thrown around too much, having someone tell you that your New Years plans are beautiful really is something. Especially when those New Years plans sound to you more like "chaotic and sleepless" than anything else. Seriously. Love.
I will now go eat stocking chocolate and pretend to work. Sounds good.