Practicing Defense

I have been doing some stuff. Going on the defense against the voices in my mind.

I had four-day work meeting in Florida and was waaaaaaay nervous about it. The crowd is super accomplished, smart, fit.

And then there’s me.

Dreamy, schlubby, largeish. Clutching a degree from a not-very-good state U.

So I went and bought work-appropriate clothings and let the ladies talk me into matching jewelry, something modern – large and shiny and bold but not kooky.

I got my hairs did. Cut AND colored some, just enough to take the crazy level of grey out. Foil was involved. And the handing over of large wads of cash.

I got shoes. Lady shoes.

Then a mani-pedi, first in my life. I have had the mani part but not the pedi. I hate people messing with me in general, so I had to talk myself into it.

The mani was standard. Pedi, they strapped me into an electric recliner, put an eyebag over my eyes, and went to work. The electric recliner was supposed to be a massage chair, but it was really just a thing that poked me in the back, lumbar, sacral region and butt. Poke, poke, poke.

I thought about stopping the massage, but then my butt got used to being poked every 10 seconds. It was enjoyable, sort of. Then I was done. I left with Pepto-pink nails, pumpkin spice toes.  I handed over more cash.

This self-confidence thing is expensive. But I’m glad I did it. It’s bad enough to feel like you’re not as on-the-ball as everyone else without looking like it, too. I don’t think I looked fabulous, but I blended in, which is about what I aimed for. I just didn’t want to embarrass my boss, for whom I have great respect.

I still felt like an odd duck – a quirky, creative person in a sea of people who deal with the concrete and quantifiable. But I imagine most of them felt like odd ducks in their own way as well, because I think 95% of us do – we imagine we’re the only ones who feel like kids playing at adulthood, when we really all just want to go home and get in our jammies.

Before I left, I set my intention to love these people, and I think I largely succeeded. I had a few eye-rolling moments and a few impatient sighs, but for the most part did what I wanted to, which is to make people feel like I was glad they were there.

When I picked up Abbie Lynn (my dog) yesterday, she was happy to see me. For about 10 seconds. Then it occurred to her that she was going to have to leave her best friend, Shelby, who runs the dog boarding place. I could see her look back and forth between us. Shelby got a long goodbye hug and off we went. Now we’re chilling in our jammies.