As I told Jacob this evening, I feel like a little kid playing at being a grownup. Let's face it-- I haven't had to be customer-service polite since my brief stint working in retail four years ago, and it's spoiled me. My brain is rebelling against being told now to say "good night" to the boss instead of "see ya", or, "yes, M. is in the office, let me transfer you to her line" instead of "Uh... yeah, I think she's here, hang on a second". It also doesn't help that the three people with whom I'll be having the most contact in the office are all 8-12 inches shorter than me, making me feel like the oversized puppy with the big gangly paws, and we all know that feeling big/gangly and acting clumsy/awkward are so closely related that it would be illegal for them to marry in 48 states.
I think what I need is a dose of whatever I'd been having here. It clearly made me dazzlingly competent, confident and generally in control of the situation. The only problems I can see are that a) what I'd been having was Indian food and fruit juice and b) the languorous and sultry poses are part of the package deal and they're unlikely to go over well in this context.
Complain complain flounder floundery flounder.Posted by dianna at April 8, 2004 11:29 PM