[So sorry for the delay with today's post. My parent's cat curled up on my keyboard and the distribution of her weight somehow messed up my internet settings, which I can't seem to fix...Most adorable problem ever.]
Well my tempstitution position is almost over, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm a little bit heartbroken about it. For someone who spent an impressive amount of time and energy avoiding a job, I actually liked this one. I think this one was, the one. I wish they didn't have their architect heads up their architect asses and would hire me full time. Come on, they love me! I love them! HIRE ME DAMNIT! I feel like I'm having an affair with a married man who I know will never leave his wife to be with me. No matter how much I love this job or how much they love me, it's already been formally offered to another girl who formally accepted it. Sigh...Her name is Kate. She starts the 21st. Bitch.
I broke the first rule of tempstitution (I also broke the paper trimmer and then ran away, but that's neither here nor there): I fell in love. My last job didn't exactly set the bar too high for it's replacement, however. Any job where I don't spend a large part of my day wondering who's trying to get me fired that week or where I'm not sitting at my desk with every muscle tensed waiting for someone to round the corner and verbally kick me in the crotch is a major step up. It's seriously bizarre to go to the bathroom in the office for reasons other than to hide out or have a good cry. I'm like a battered wife doesn't trust anyone and needs to learn to love again. My boss got me cupcakes Friday to thank me for my hard work and when she handed them to me, I stared at them suspiciously for a good five seconds wondering what her motive was to do something so nice. I said an awkwardly delayed "thank you" when I realized she was probably just feeling grateful and not trying to fuck with my head.
The best part of my job is having a work crush again. It's been so long, and work crushes are so necessary. They give you a reason to make an effort to look presentable at 7am and actually go to work. There were literally three men in my last office (each gayer than the last) so this architecture firm is like a Chippendale's in comparison. I've found myself unnecessarily printing things just so I can pimp-strut my fine self retrieve it (I apologize to the trees I've killed in the name of office flirting.)
The only awkward thing about that is I get really self-conscious about the clacking noise my heels make because it's a large studio style office, so everything echoes in an obnoxious way. I'm the only gal in the office who wears heels, so I feel like the clacking of mine reverberates off the walls and draws attention to the fact that I keep printing blank pages so I can walk past my work crush.
I then attempt to compensate for this by lightly tip-toeing, but it ends up looking like I'm about to shit my pants and I'm trying to make it to the bathroom in time. The other day I remedied this situation by cutting an earplug in half and taping it to the bottom of the spikes of my heels. Not only did it muffle the obnoxious clacking, it gave me some much needed arch support. I won twice!
So my office crush's name is Carlos and we're getting hot and heavy. Friday we had vicious eye sex and last night he asked me if I was printing something. I said yes. And then he was like, "Oh, Ok, I'll cancel my print job." And I was all, "Well mine shouldn't take too long." And then he was like, "Ok, cool."
Yea...I might be pregnant.