Monday, August 10, 2009

Attacked by my desk

The fact that I'm happily married isn't what I attribute to the lack of effort I put into my physical appearance- it's my job. I'm in security sales, so my day is spent calling businesses that are super excited to receive my unexpected inquiries, and that requires wearing a giant fashion-forward headset. Therefore, fingernails of any length interfere with phone dialing and typing, earrings are painful after a few minutes of getting squeezed into my flesh, makeup is predominantly unnecessary since they haven't added webcams to our sales toolkits yet, and styling my hair is useless unless I incorporate the headset dent spanning my cranium (which I have yet to master).

And just now as I put my headset back on, my grip slipped, and the headset snapped back into its brain-gripping shape in the wrong place- the side of my glasses- smacking them into the bridge of my nose in a painful, eye-watering manner. I check out my battle wound in the mirror they give us that says "real people, real values" on it that I think we're supposed to use to make sure we're smiling while we're talking, but which is really used by most of us strategically to see when our boss is walking around the pit, and I have a big red welt under my nose rest. Sadface.

It's as if my office equipment knows that I am frustrated and distracted and reading Etsy Storque articles and is slapping me around to say "get back to work!". If this catches on and my monitor puts me into seizure with flash-strobe or something, I am totally going home sick the rest of the day. Then I can do something fun, like finish up my botanical mini-canvases.

1 comment:

  1. who knew your job could be so dangerous? Hope you get a chance to see my blog too... keep it up!