I will somehow get a big blob of ink on my hand, and then wind up smearing it all over my cheek. Without realizing it, till I go to a meeting. And have it pointed out.
I’m also the person who will have a peanut butter sandwich for lunch, and then look in the mirror in the bathroom hours later. And what I think is an odd new freckle will turn out to be a glob of peanut butter. On my face.
And I am also the person who got See’s lollipops, the very best kind, for Christmas. If you’ve not had them, they’re fantastic – especially the butterscotch ones. They’re big and rectangular and slightly soft. Just soft enough that if you bite into them your teeth get stuck.
If you’re enjoying a See’s lollipop, and you’ve just bitten into it with both your top and bottom side teeth, and you are reading something on your computer monitor, it seems almost inevitable that this would be the time that the president of your organization would drop by. Don't you think?
So there I am, teeth stuck, completely immersed in what I’m reading, peering at my monitor so intently that it takes a moment to realize someone has appeared at my cube. And then, when I do realize, my eyes widen in surprise. I smile around the lollipop.
And so I am, very obviously and frantically, trying to unlollipop myself. There is no way to do it subtly or gracefully.
“Is that a lollipop?”
I nod and blush. Because I’m, like, twelve. I point to my stash. “Gould gyou glike gwone?”
I finally unstick my teeth, but I’m so clearly discombobulated. So, after laughing politely at me a bit, he says that he’ll just go ahead and tell me what he needed to, and drop off the materials, and let me enjoy my candy.
I suppose there are worse ways to be caught off guard. But honestly. It’s moments like this where I realize my facade is as thin as the layer of powder on my face. Except that it's a day when I'm not even wearing make up.
I think it must be so apparent to the rest of the world that I’m just faking the grown-up professional thing.
I feel that way all the time, like I'm just playing grown-up. But when I used to play grown-up my life was a lot more glamorous. And I was always a stewardess, I thought that would be my dream job, go figure.ReplyDelete
Good to know that I'm not the only one that feels like she's pretending.ReplyDelete
I think most of us are pretending... I know I am.ReplyDelete
When I was little, I admired grown-up ladies who knew how to put on make-up and style their hair.ReplyDelete
As an adult I realize I must be pretending or missed that day in how-to-be-a-grownup. I know nothing about make-up and my hair is hopeless.
I am spectacular at faking being a Real Adult. It's pretty fun actually... Oh, and See's lollipops? are indeed the best. My favorite are the vanilla ones. YUMReplyDelete
ps- I am in a big hurry and was just about to leave for work but then I saw a new LG post and was like work? can wait. :)
I love this post! That is completly and utterly an occurrence that would befall me.ReplyDelete
TMM - Stewardesses WERE very glam when I was growing up! Good choice!ReplyDelete
Amisare - I feel better hearing that.
VVK - That makes me relieved.
HKW - I was like you - hair and make up made you grown up. And I don't know what to do with either.
Nicole - Awww, thank you! I just discovered the joys of vanilla ones. I always stuck to butterscotch before. Plus - luck you! You're now in the land of See's!
Valerie - I'm delighted to hear that!
Sometimes reading your blog is like watching the Lisa Show on the TV in my head. And it's hilarious. Not that I can totally see/hear the “Gould gyou glike gwone?” as I read it or anything...ReplyDelete
But the proper end to that story would be that as he walks away, you notice the little trail of toilet paper stuck to the prez's shoe.....
How very embarrassing! That sounds like something that would happen to me...I'm always snacking at my desk. :)ReplyDelete
Congrats on the Express mention, by the way!ReplyDelete
This is the writing that brings me back over and over!ReplyDelete
I just read my diary from 1979. On my dad's birthday that year, I made an entry that he turned 42. When I read that I just dropped the diary and sat there. 42? I'm 42! My dad seemed so grown up back then. I'll have to ask him if he feels grown up yet, because I know I feel like a phony grownup.
Loved this ...ReplyDelete