Yet another victim of the well-meaning friends who say things like “you should totally get a blog!” And what do you know. Here I am with a blog. Entirely unsure how that happened. I sit here, and suddenly I am no longer funny, cool, calm, or collected. To be fair, I am not sure I was any of that to begin with. I am now nervous. Standing before you, dear reader (are there any of you? Please? At least mum&dad?) and I feel fairly naked. That uncomfortable feeling when you get to the public pools and have to undress and be in a bathing suit and then you wish that you have actually followed through on all of those planned-yet-ignored gym sessions. *awkward wave*
Basically, I am trying to find my voice. A lofty ideal, to be sure, but then I studied lofty things at university. They actually gave me a degree in that. So there we are. But as I sit here, with obvious disdain for the whole “never start a sentence with a preposition” rule, all I can think about is how I need a haircut. My hair is long enough for me to see the ends of it, and my goodness that is not a pretty sight. I really need a haircut. But I also want to dye my hair pink. Not all over, but definitely in streaks. Then I remember that I am currently employed in a bank, and pink hair might not go over too well with my superiors. The rebellious voice within says “whatever, it’s your hair”, while my visa bill is screaming “you need this job!” and so I find myself my very own Sophie’s Choice. Maybe I will settle for a few more tattoos that disappear beneath the work blouse, just so that I know that they are there but I won’t get fired. Can you imagine a bank employee with “thug life” tattooed on their knuckles? That would be amazing. If I owned a bank, I would hire such an individual in a heartbeat, potentially to act as an enforcer during meetings (“I said we will not give you more than xx-amount, or does my friend here need to school you in the finer arts of negotiation?” KAPOW!).
To sum up, what have we learned about me?
- easily distracted
- wishes to find “voice”, whatever that may mean
- when nervous, is self-conscious
- terrible job of shrugging that off
- wants pink hair (a maybe) and more tattoos (a must)