Thank God it's Friday! I am ready for a break from my daily work wardrobe challenge! I had been going into the office every weekday since I was officially hired, and let's just say my wardrobe doesn't support a five day work week. Today, I wore my new $9 black cashmere sweater, and a 6 year old skirt. The sweater is a classic V-neck, and will be in style until it unravels from excessive wear... but the skirt... well... I may very well have been the only woman in America wearing that tired style. But, it fit, and it was an appropriate length for a conservative-leaning business atmosphere. Gotta do what ya gotta do, and I gotta wear clothes to work!
The projects kept getting handed to me today. I have no idea how these people manage to get so much done, or, how they have managed to get things done without another person on staff. One of the first things the director said was that "you just have to accept that your work will never be done here." I took mental note of that immediately, because I don't like unfinished business in my life. I knew I would have to set my own boundaries. A few years ago, I worked as a regional director of sales and training; overseeing 15 different locations, and answering to the corporate entity. My work was never done there... and I wound up working nearly 24 hours a day. No... I was not paid for my exhausting efforts hourly. People who work those types of jobs never are. My boss was an avid golfer schmuck, who left me to carry my load and his, while he spent sunny afternoons working on his short game. I wound up practically working myself to death; acquiring anxiety and depression, chronic sleep deprivation, terrible eating habits, and an all-consuming hatred for my job. I hadn't set boundaries... and if I would have... I probably would have been fired. After thinking I was going to die from a heart attack, alone, in a cheap handicap hotel room in Fort Wayne, Indiana... I quit, and it was the best decision I ever made.
Since I started this job, I made a point to leave my briefcase in the car... to not "bring my work home." It is very tempting to work "off the clock" so I can become the super hero they couldn't possibly let fly away; but after my previously mentioned experience, I know this would be cheating myself, both personally and financially. Balance. I have to maintain balance. It is hard to fight the urge to work like a mad woman, considering I have been without work for so long, and this job is definitely one worth working hard for; but I have to.
Next week I set a more efficient, and wardrobe friendly schedule. I will be working my 15 hours in 3 days, instead of 5. Practically, this saves money on gas, and allows me to get more work done in one day. Selfishly, this prevents me from having to find 2 more outfits, getting ready (which costs money) 2 more days, keeps me from rushing home from work to change into my ceramics clothes, and allows me more than one day off. Working 5 days there, plus my Saturday "man-sitting" meant I was working 18 hours a week... in 6 days. Not an ideal management of time. I cleared it with the director before I left, and they did tell me I could make my own hours, so it shouldn't be a problem. We'll see how the rest of the staff receives it when I get to work on Tuesday.
My day ended with an interview with a marketing and media representative for another non-profit. Their organization is wanting to expand their services, and a relationship with the organization I'm working with could be mutually beneficial. I may have just scored my first networking connection for them. While I was rubbing elbows with these "big wigs," I realized how short I have sold myself the last couple years. My most recent employment endeavors definitely did not let me perform at levels matching my capability. I'm not saying I am a nose-in-the-air-better-than-you kind of person... I hate those people! But what I have realized, is that I have almost made excuses for my intelligence, because pretty girls aren't supposed to be smart, or have opinions on anything other than shoes and handbags. And saying that, just made me uncomfortable. I don't even think I'm that pretty. I'm just me. I care more about who I am on the inside, than on the outside, because the inside is what I have created, the exterior is just a result of complicated genetics. But if I truly care about my inside, why don't I acknowledge my brain... why do I almost hide it? The girls I worked with at the salon spa seemed to hate me for being smart, and I'm a peace-loving kind of girl... so I confess to dumbing it down... and that sounds bitchy to me. I hope someone understands what I'm saying, because I just got confused trying to explain it.
Anyway... I think the point was supposed to be that my co-workers at my new job seem to embrace new ideas, intelligence and hard work; and even though I'm doing it in a $9 sweater and a 6 year old skirt... I feel like a million bucks!
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