I keep on falling

Dramatization.

I fell. At work.

I’m not sure of the legal implications of sharing this, so just in case…

I allegedly fell at work.

Well, not technically at work. Perhaps the incident took place in the garage. Maybe.

Earlier that morning, I woke up to my normal routine. I brewed coffee, took a shower, walked the dog. I jumped in my car and drove to a place of business that may or may not be mine. I parked the car in the top-level of the garage and proceeded to take the stairs, per my new exercise regiment that now includes not using the elevator for less that four floors. Only, when I turned the corner, my foot escaped my control and down went the ship.

To be more specific, there could have been a small puddle at the base of the stairs that, perhaps, contributed to my smooth descent into a perfect split.

As my ass slowly began to absorb the dirty rain water, I noticed that I had not spilled a single drippity-drop of my super hot Starbucks coffee. In the midst of my fall, I managed to hold on to the cup with the perfect pressure and balance. Apparently, my nightly six-minute Wii Fit routine was actually working.

I would have gotten up myself, if it wasn’t that the door that leads in from the second level abruptly opened and hydroplaned me across the floor.

Luckily, the woman who caused the experiment in physics helped me get on my feet. She was also nice enough to walk behind me so the morning rush would not see my moist rear. She was especially kind enough to tell the security guard what had just happened, setting off the perfect storm of paperwork and official dramatizations of the fall.

Only, during my affidavit signing and swearing that it was indeed the floor that wet my pants, the rumor mill throughout the company got a little out of control. While some thought I had fallen down the stairs, others thought I had been hit in the head with the door, while I was lying unconscious in a puddle of my urine. One co-worker was nice enough to leave Excedrin on my desk for the headache I most likely had.

After all was said and done the final report read: Employee fell, wet her pants and undergarments, chipped her toenail polish on her left foot.

What the report failed to note was the massive bruise on my ego and the mental anguish over catching a rare yeast infection from stagnant water.

Allegedly, of course.

Holy crap, work is hard

Three days into it and I’m ready for the weekend.

I’ve blistered up my toes with uncomfortable, but fashionable shoes. I’ve arrived on time, every day. I’ve worn make-up and combed my hair. I’ve read through previous presentations, sat in meetings, reconnected with colleagues. I’ve had lunch. I’ve told stories. I’ve walked through every floor of each building.

I’m tired. No, exhausted. Mentally spent. Physically in pain. Figuring out who’s, who and what’s what is like playing Sudoku for 8 hours straight. I can’t wait to sleep in on Saturday. Ah, Saturday.

I could, possibly, call in sick tomorrow. Okay, maybe not all day. Half day? Half of a Thursday is not bad. It’s just my first week. I haven’t been there long enough to be missed.

I guess I should just suck it up and go.

Even if I had the gall to call in sick, I couldn’t. I haven’t memorized anyone’s extension yet.

No more four o’clock sounds

Well boys and girls, the time has come. It seems like I’ll be trading in my flip-flops for Franco Sarto pumps.

Exactly five months after my first blog entry, Four o’clock sounds, I was officially engaged to rejoin the workforce.

I am extremely pleased. So is my bank account.

I will not be working in marketing or public relations, but I will be using all of those skills. I will not pitch media. I will not proof ads. I will be doing what I do best, which is charming the pants off clients. That’s actually my new title. Pants Charmer. I prefer Manager of Pants Charming, but then the business card will look awkward and, really, it sounds awkward too. Like I’m saying Prince Charming or something.

Unfortunately, this job does come with one bitter pill and that is the censorship of this blog. Although my employer has not asked me to, I feel like I owe it to them and to our clients not to blabber about the sausage making.

But, that’s not going to stop me from blogging about other topics. I will continue to use this forum to share my stories with you about my neighbors, my friends and the readjustment of a bohemian writer back into a cubicle.

I thank you for your continued support and readership, your comments and friendship – unless you’re a spammer. If you’re a spammer I could give a crap about you.

For those of you still out on the hunt, I wish you luck and I hope that you find exactly what you’re looking for. For those interviewing candidates, remember to treat people with kindness, and put yourself in their shoes – as you may end up wearing them.

Happy Friday!

Best Regards,

Mari, Manager of Charm

Like my corporate picture?