Let's talk babies for a second.
If you follow me on Instagram you might know where this is going. My near and dear friend had a baby July 15th and it was a FREAKING GIRL. There have been three boys in the past couple years, it was high time we got a girl.
We also found out that same day that my sister in law is having a BOY on December 7th. Which is three weeks before we head out their way to spend Christmas with them. Best. Christmas. Present. Ever.
So this eight weeks business. It has nothing to do with babies, but more to do with my new personal best of migraine-less living. Yesterday was the eight week, two day mark. Today I'\m back to day one, but I'm okay with that. Baby steps, Anna, baby steps. I haven't gone eight weeks since before September. I'll take it. Plus it forced me to watch some afternoon Stargate: SG-1 yesterday afternoon instead of cleaning my toilet. Hello, silver lining.
I also got my hair cut yesterday. This morning I woke up thinking the same thing I do everytime I go for a cut nowadays: "Well, hello, mom hair."
Everytime I go to the salon they always curl my hair under at the bottom and give it a lot of body on top. I think they forget that I'm 24, not Kate plus Eight, and even though I can come to terms with my momish hair, it has to be edgy mom hair or I'm not impressed. Edgy moms do not let their short hair flip under. (Sorry I have no photos, it's too early to fight with my computer for those.)
We've also been checking out a new church for the past few weeks. We've actually been checking out new churches for the past few months but this is the first one we can all agree that we'd like to continue checking out. It's fabulous because it has three services, and the second is at 11. 11! That means we can sleep in AND go to church Sunday mornings! God is good.
And now for a story.
I was at work the other day, strolling in four minutes late (I live life on the wild side) when I saw I already had two emails from reception in my inbox. One was letting me know that someone was there for her first day, and the other to let me know that the HR manager had gone to get her.
Well. I had been helping HR out with some hiring the week before and had offered this person a position that wasn't supposed to start for another three weeks. I had this horrible, awful feeling in my gut that I had screwed up her offer letter and told her the wrong date.
I checked the folder on my computer and sure enough there was a letter with her name on it, for a different position, saying her start date was that very day. I died. I had sent her the wrong letter for the wrong position with the wrong freaking start date. How does someone even DO that?
I tried calling HR. No answer. I ran downstairs, in full on panic mode.
Let me tell you, having someone show up three weeks early for the wrong position does not look good. Would they reprimand me? I'd never get a good reference from this place. Might as well set my hopes on McDonald's at this rate. Or maybe Tim Hortons. Aim high, Anna.
I ran into HR. There was no one there. Just as I was about to start pulling out my hair, the HR coordinator walked in. As soon as she saw me she knew something was wrong. What gave it away? My pale face? My look of terror?
I told her I'd screwed up, oh, I'd really screwed up. Big, big screw up.
She laughed. Oh no, they had hired this person early to help fill in another role until her actual start date and even if I had screwed up it wouldn't have been that big of a deal.
Apparently the colour rushed back to my face at that point. I stopped shaking. I hadn't done anything wrong.
There's nothing quite like starting off your day in fear. Or showing your coworkers how much a drama queen you can be.
And no big deal? Pretty sure it would be. Thank God I won't ever need to know.