I kept waiting for the craziness to begin. New Business is a whirlwind of PR-goodness or so I’d been told. So I waited and waited and waited. This week, unlike my first, I had work to do while I waited for the BIG PROJECT.
Here’s the simple truth about offices. They have low expectations of temps. Bottom rung, sub-bottom rung expections. People expect incompetence. So when they get a breathing, literate temp–standby with the heart moniter. Some one might need a doctor.
I spent the last week doing simple tasks and being highly praised. My ego is enjoying it. I have been brought into the fold, invited to lunch, laughed with (and at) in the elevator, and stayed through lunch, through dinner, through prime time to see my supervisor off tonight.
Well, not totally. You can’t have two people editing at the same time, so I was released at 9:30. I hope my co-workers get out soon, but they might be in for the long-haul.
I have continued to dress nicely, taking showers, using a blow dryer, putting on powder, wearing high heels. The girl stuff my therapist told me about. I even went on the first date since ending things with Rock n Roll. A result of the Craigslist ad I mentioned.
Sigh.
God has a sense of humor. I say I don’t care how tall a man is and I meet someone who doesn’t reach my shoulder. “Leah–just testing you.” Yeah, I hear you, I’m not as all accepting as I’d like to be. Also–there are a million wonderful, fantastic, interesting (jewish) men out there–but I don’t have to want to marry them all. I don’t have to date them all. I don’t have to be attracted to them all. It doesn’t diminish his wonderful attributes, they just don’t create a spark every time.
It was nice. He didn’t complain about my overpriced glass of wine (NINE DOLLARS IN A PLASTIC CUP?!?!?!?) and offered to take me for dinner. The conversation was easy and the topics interesting, anything you’d want from a first date. Except for the spark. Picky, picky Leah.
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