Ch-Ch-Changes!

Is it me or does everyone feel like they have a case of the Januaries? This slow-moving, dull and cold, boring month seems to have permeated me, my dog, my best friend etc. You get the picture. In order to combat the case of the Januaries, I met up with a friend at Perle (champagne bar) for some bubbles and fun!  We haven't seen each other since I left my previous job-where I wanted to staple things to my boss's head-and it was as if nothing had changed. Through ups and downs, and believe me, there were some downs, our friendship has withstood it all. It's interesting that this month seems to have the past to the forefront but in way that moves things forward. The only guy I talked to, however, was the valet guy.  Such is life.

Moving on-I have some big news. I was offered and accepted a position with a company to do a/r for clients that outsource their accounts receivables. FROM HOME.  With all the changes in the last year and the job drama, this is such a blessing. I cannot believe I have this opportunity. I'm very excited and the company is flexible and I will be able to do nursing school in the fall and work. I still can't believe it!

How are your New Year's Resolutions/Changes coming along?  I'm giving myself a thumb's up (why not?).  Two friendships have been renewed, starting a new job, booked a trip to Vegas and Turbo Fire arrived yesterday (I'm more scared of this than my econ homework I think).  Oh. And I met a Dance Mom at Sephora.  So, even though I have a case of the Januaries, this year is off to a decent start (knock wood)! 

Where Did My Filter Go?

Recently, I have noticed I have started to lose something. I used to keep track of it, modify it, respect it and overall, use it.  Lately, however, it is missing.  Not entirely. Just enough that I noticed.  No, not my favorite pair of earrings or lip gloss. I'm referring to my filter. 

When you begin a new adventure, such as a job or school, you are introduced to a colorful cast of characters. Out of basic respect and fear of eating alone, you're most likely nice and polite and respond with nervous laughter at the loud guy's not funny jokes.  Until you have done that bit one too many times. And you realize that you really don't care about what people think of you, at least not as much as you used to. Instead of laughing at someones 9 million Facebook status updates about their child's bathroom incidents, you almost type "wtf? do you think I want to read about any one's green bodily fluids, let alone your weird kid's?" If you're online dating, and you get an email from someone who say is 20 years older than you, unemployed, has kids your age, a criminal record, lives in the attic or has multiple cats (or all of the above), you have the urge to reply back "KEEP DREAMING", you have started to lose it.  No, not your sanity. But your filter. Mine is certainly fading. But I ask, is this a bad thing?

I first saw this filter of mine starting to fade when I rolled my eyes at my boss in a meeting. I mean, there are only so many "it comes down to simple math-more appointment sets + this+this+zzz=goal" that one can take after years of being in a certain industry. Granted, this was a typical fake upbeat meeting in which we discussed the same things every single week and I hadn't had enough coffee. But honestly, a person can tolerate only so much condescending rhetoric.  Regardless if it's in my work or personal life, the older I get and the more I experience, the less I care what people think of me (minus my family and true friends).

Something to think about: are we doing a disservice to others by not being more honest? I ask you to look at your Facebook or Twitter newsfeeds. Or, if you're like Lawyer Chic, you're off the grid, so listen closely at the next work meeting or when you're having lunch with coworkers. Chances are, numerous opportunities will present themselves in which you either smile outwardly while cringing inwardly. If we keep smiling and laughing blindly, ignoring status updates and act as yes men/women at work, what will we achieve? You might ask yourself how do you know if you're losing your filter?  Here's a little test: if you're on the grid and you have to slap your hand away from typing a snarky reply and risk being deleted by annoying status updater and all mutual friends, you too are losing it. Which, in the end, might not be so bad.

The Office: Not Just A Hit TV Show

As a little girl, I watched my dad (and later my mom) leave for work everyday, dressed in professional attire and would catch a comforting whiff of his spicy aftershave. After I was in grade school, my mom also went back to work and I loved watching her getting dressed up and spritzing perfume-Curve in those days- on her wrists and would beg for a little spritz of my own.  Never did I imagine that these parents of mine-adults for goodness sake-had their own separate work lives that entailed drama and a cast of characters straight out of the movies. I thought that adults were, well, grown ups. As I got older, I realized they too had to deal with petty dramas of their own-not necessarily mean girls IMing nasty stuff about them or spreading rumors about a new girl who'd just transferred-but the high school cliques and drama weren't that different from the dynamics in an office. They just didn't have to ask to use the restroom and could drink coffee all day.

Fast-forward to my first job. It was as if every stereotype from high school was in one large open planned setting: the class clown (the jokester who sent unfunny emails to everyone), the beauty queen (looked perfect all the time but constantly said she looked a hot mess), the jock (brought his gym bag to the office), the brainiac(actually had a pocket protector,  and the cheerleader (who says shut the front door without any irony).  Did adults really behave like they were still in high school? In short-yes.  They did. And they still do.  It's one of the mysteries of the human race. The main difference between the teenage and adult phase is the perspective we have gained from our youth. Some former mean girls turn into nice people. Brainiacs have become super hot and attractive commodities on the single market. Nerds have become hot evil adult mean girls. And some of us have relatively stayed the same but older, hopefully wiser, nicer and somewhat more responsible.  Regardless, these teenage stereotypes and cliques are parlayed right into the office environment. Trying figuring out lunch on the first day of new job. Good luck! Then, there are the rules.

For goodness sake, those of us that went to Catholic school and LOVED jeans day are almost taken back to that grade-school mentality when the boss declares a jeans day if we hit such and such a goal (or donate something to some charity). Jeans for hitting a goal. Think about that. No bathroom breaks during phone-a-thons, call campaigns, insert-name-for-group activity -designed- to- improve- some -statistic -that- is- relevant to- your- career. Sign in and out before and after lunch. Fire drills. No drinks except in the break room. Water fountains. And yet our managers wonder how they can foster a better environment in the office and one that is more conducive to high quality production. The answer, my friends, is not more cubicle toys or food as an incentive.  One thing we all desperately wanted in high school (ok THE other thing we all wanted) was to be treated as adults-with respect. By the time we are 30 it shouldn't be something we are having circle meetings, trust exercises or town halls about.  It should come with the profit-sharing, 401k and insurance benefits that we pay for. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to email to see if I can use the restroom.  Kidding.  I'll just ask on my way out.

Tell me about some of your crazy office situations. Feel free to remain anonymous. xoxo.

Crossing the line?

Looking back at my 30th birthday, I find it humorous how far off the mark I was when I daydreamed about my 30s as a young, naive 20 year old.  The dashing husband was not waking me up with steamy, hot coffee.  Or sex. (sorry mom).  I rolled over and onto Eeyore.  Yes, sometimes Eeyore sleeps in my bed. I realize that may be part of why the dashing husband isn't waking me up in the morning but that's another blog for another day. It was casual Friday so I put on cute cropped jeans, a black lightweight summer top and mused if I could get away with flip-flops. I mentally ran through who could be in my office that day, decided to take the risk and stash a pair of heels in my bag-just in case.  Arriving at the office, I was nearly solo, so I could get away with flip-flops, which let's face it, are way more comfortable and desirable. Another lie from college. We would not be dressing in fabulous, smart outfits constantly.  Although, this lie was perpetuated by popular movies in the early 2000s. Yes, many opportunities to dress fun and fabulous at work but I never expected to try to "get away" with wearing flip flops.  Or that the first thing I like to do when I pull into my parking spot, dash up the stairs to my apartment and throw my overstuffed bag on the floor is to find my pjs and immediately discard my work attire. I wondered if this was normal, then after realizing how many stores sell "lounging" clothes to women my age I realize it is another phenomena that is not discussed but regularly practiced. Although, I did realize the ridiculousness in that certain managers looked as if they were slightly um unkempt (read: fraying pants, shoes falling apart) and that I could be reprimanded for not wearing my work emblem polo on a jeans Friday, but who was I to say anything? I kept the flip-flops on and began my day.

While mentally stapling things to someone's head that I was mmhhmmming (aka actively listening to) on my attractive (read: airline pilot) headset, my mind wondered to the deep dark recesses I had been able to avoid for awhile. Dating.  Not a surprise since the dashing husband didn't wake me up that morning, however, I had come to some harsh realizations.  I was and am happy to not be married at this point. Dating, while something we all complain about, can be ridiculously fun and heartbreaking at times.  Running a mental calendar in my mind of the men I dated from 29-30 I realized I had grown as a person, if not a woman.  I knew sooner than ever before if I wanted to see someone again; my bs radar was near perfect and I knew what my absolute non-negotiables were (thanks Patti Stanger). I had dodged some major psychos I mean bullets.  

But something I never foresaw was that the heartache of relationships would carry over into the doldrums at work.  In college, heartbreak could be easily fixed with a 90210 marathon, Late Night and 10 of your floormates promising to bash his head in while simultaneously scrolling through their AIM buddy list to see who was single and fun and a potential new date for you. Not so in the real world. Although you still receive plenty of sympathy, everyone has a job to finish.  Skipping work would render you with more guilt induced anxiety than any midterm and some of your friends are now married and forget how to relate (the ones who remember us single ladies thank you and the ones that don't we still love you). Depending on your office environment, if a manger found out one of two things could happen: your male boss would try to avoid any discussion and anything that could upset you or your female boss (similar to mine) would try to share stories with you, tell you your fabulous, and then talk about her sex life in college and you'll wonder wait a minute, I thought we were talking about me? And ew. Please don't say those things ever again. What we really want is to be left alone, allow us to trudge to Starbucks to be comforted by the scent of mocha and our work girlfriend's sympathy and to go home and order takeout and turn our phones off so we don't have to keep checking for the apology text that may never ding in our inboxes. So bosses of the world please heed my advice:  save the stories, especially if they involve anything that makes us think of your sex life, don't send us emails with smileys in them and please let us do the jobs you hired us to do without interjecting that we will get back to normal soon.  Or, we will be forced to get our staplers out.