Yesterday morning I was driving to work and I had this wonderful fantasy about not stopping at the shop. I'd just keep driving and call Matt from wherever I ended up. That would have been awesome. Yesterday did have some high points though, I got the second in my series of "oh my god Holly's getting married" facials. This one was different than the first, more about dirt in my pores than relaxing and pampering. The part of me that's all business was happy and she said she had some very successful extractions. How dirty is your face when the facialist is cooing over the dirt that's coming out? Very, it needed to be done. She had lots of good hints too about being kind to your eyes and applying all lotions in an upward direction because gravity does all the down you can handle. Very astute I thought, I've always applied sunscreen and creams moving down my face, whoops. I expect to look 17 tomorrow since I totally applied my moisturizer in an upward direction today. I'll keep you posted.
I still have so much to do for wedding prep and none of it is sit-ups and it should be. I need to get my shoes dyed and find some jewelry and what am I going to do with my hair? The wedding is at 10 am so apparently we're all on hair and make-up duty starting at the crack of dawn. If I show up with no ideas the morning of either the bride or the stylist will kill me and it won't be pretty. I really want just natural curls and make-up but it seems insane to pay $110.00 and look exactly the same as I do every other day. I should probably go Tammy Faye Bakker to get my money's worth. The bride will LOVE that.
I bumped into an old colleague on an errand today and she asked about work. I told her the truth, which I never do when people ask about my job. She asked if I was looking and I said yes and it was sort of great to tell the truth about this place. Reading that sentence makes me feel like I'm talking about a prison or Hitler's Third Reich when it's really just a well-paying white collar job for a boss that happens to be insane. I think I was pretty honest about working at the bank, I knew it wasn't where I was supposed to be but it was a choice I made and it sort of paid the bills and I didn't have to work very hard. This is very much the same with a better pay scale and if he didn't keep asking me to do illegal things it would be almost even. Customers at the bank always treated me like a moron and now it's my boss.
Sometimes when I reflect on how I feel about work I think I'm over-reacting, it's like I'm complaining that the sky isn't blue enough. Then I think about my mom and what she would say about how this man treats people, me being one of them and I know if she were alive I wouldn't be working here. She wouldn't stand for it and I shouldn't either. 'Course she didn't need the paycheck.