You’re not going to believe this…I’m at a coffee shop…by myself. Yeah, you read that right. My kids are at the zoo with NanaPapa and I have some time to myself. So, if I can stop myself from eavesdropping on this terrible job interview happening next to me, then I might actually post something. Let me at least share this quote to give you an idea of how this interview is going…
Male interviewer- I’m not trying to sound sexist, but there is a lot of estrogen in our office and sometimes they thing I jump to decisions, but I have reasons.
Female interviewee- Of course you do.
First of all, my dude, if you have to use the disclaimer ” I don’t want to sound sexist, BUT”…. then you sound sexist. Next, why are you trying so hard to sell her the job, she obviously wants it really bad. Warning to you, she is going to swim in that estrogen pool and tell them you said that. It’s how she will make friends at her new job. So, be smart man. Like, when speak poorly of your employees, it’s going to be hard for her to want to be one of those employees and it makes you look like a bad leader. Also, are you almost done? I’m trying to write here.
Summer is happening. I feel like it is happening so fast. I’m watching in horror as the calendar is filling up and passing by despite my relentless “No”s I keep saying. I let it get the best of me a couple of weeks ago. It was a wednesday. I was supposed to come home from work at the bakery and get the kids and myself ready for a doctors appointment that is about an hour away and have everything packed for a return on the way home and Lilliana’s ballet class that afternoon. I went as fast as I could. I put on a five minute face, a dress and was out the door. I hit bumper to bumper traffic and it made me 10 minutes late. When I got there, they said I was actually 30 minutes late…meaning I wrote the wrong time down for the appointment…and they wouldn’t see me. I had to reschedule. Friends. I’m super pregnant. I was super tired from a very early morning at work and the scramble of getting out the door and tensely fighting through the traffic to get there as fast as I could and it just was the straw that broke the preggo’s back. And I cried. In the doctors office, while I tried to reschedule my appointment. Total mom fail. I was embarrassed and remorseful. I was dreading telling Jordan, and just wanted to crawl in a hole the rest of the day. I was defeated.
I rescheduled, apologized and then I went on with it. First stop was to exchange a dress I bought the week before for a bigger size. Sigh. This wasn’t my day.
Well, yesterday was the rescheduled appointment. I finished up at work, rushed home to get the kids ready and hit the road with something very important. A little box of pastries from work. A peace offering, a humble apology, a shameless bribe for the employees at the doctor’s office to express my remorse. Not just for being late, but for crying about it and my overall hot mess vibe. I got there 30 minutes early (admittedly, I know, that was a little overkill) dusted myself off and walked in and tried to salvage my pride. It felt pretty good to go in and face them, armed with a box of treats and a smile on my face. I’m happy to say that it all went well and nobody can stay upset with you when you bring a lovely, still warm, Pan Au Chocolate (chocolate croissant) and other mouth watering sweets. Bonus, the kids were adorable.
I took that lesson into consideration when I left for my own appointment today. I made sure to leave with enough time to swing by the bakery and grab another box of pastries. This time, I raised my own bar and added a beautiful chocolate cupcake with pearl sprinkles and a rich rectangle of dark chocolate to garnish the perfectly swirled chocolate buttercream. I’ve reached the point in this pregnancy where I have to go for a check up every other week, so I’ll be seeing these nurses and midwives even more often and I’d like their favor on my side in advance. It was my way of declaring truth over myself. I am not a big hot mess who can’t do anything right. I’m just a Momma putting in some serious hours and spread a little thin, who made a mistake, and brushed it off to face the world again with my head held high and the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls announcing my presence. They were as appreciative and sweet as could be and buttered me up with comments like, “You work at a bakery? How do you stay so skinny?” I scratch their back, they scratch mine.
“Ladies,”I said, “you lie!” but keep it coming…