All dressed up and going to the grocery store

You never know what you've got until it's gone. A fitting, if tear-stained, cliché to express remorse– longing. etc. etc. 

Unless we're talking about Winter Break-- that can get out and stay out. I never realized how rushed I was during this break, squashing everything into my schedule–barely catching my breath after the holidays before trying to go-do-see all my winter fun– then back to the grindstone again. 

 Glazing

I love the breathing room that comes with life-after-college– it has beautifully translated into many leisurely hours in the pottery studio, playing in what little snow we have and occasionally walking my dogs. (By occasionally-- I mean that I walked them once. Today. About five hours ago.)

Aw-- Gus.

It's been a peaceful time for reflection, resolutions and refocusing, but my most valuable lesson came in the mail last week. It's all fun and games until it's time to pay the car insurance.  

So, in the absence of winter break, there is job hunting. 

Story time:

Today, I got myself hyped up– put the sweat pants away, put on mascara and brushed the dog hair off my jacket. Resume under my arm, professional smile-- I was ready to go until I left the house.   

Pulling into the driveway of my destination, my palms got so sweaty I could barely hold the wheel. I parked the car. 

Pep talk, if only my tongue would unstick from the roof of my mouth. 

"Ok.."

Loosen up with a shoulder shake. 

"Hi. My name is Emily and I want to work for you.."

No no. 

"Idiot. Don't say that."

Deep breath.

"Okay. Hello. I am Emily. Take this resumé. I wrote it with blood, sweat and vinegar. You should hire me."

Smile. Check the teeth. 

Whew. 

Check the teeth again. 

Wait.

Oh God-- What if they have surveillance cameras?  'Don't hire this kid. I saw her in the parking lot, talking to herself and making faces in the mirror-- she's nuts.'

Mission aborted. This process keeps me painfully self-conscious. It's the same thing with underwear shopping. 

But, it was a shame to keep my scarf-vest combo from the world, so I went to the grocery store and walked slowly down the aisles, using my strong interpersonal communication skills to smile at the elderly and give children back their dropped toys. I bought some apples (the cashier said I looked nice) and walked, with a little recovered swag, back to my car. I will make a great employee, one day.

Seriously, my car insurance really needs to be paid; this flabby assertive muscle is about to get whomped. Necessity is the mother of growing up, 

Emily