Come to think of it, maybe first impressions aren’t my strong suit

Honesty is my curse.  

Life’s discords- some small, some big- are all the truth serum I need.  And next thing you know… watch out!  Don’t step in the word vomit! 

I sometimes wish for the passive- aggressive, avoidance tools that make my mom so goddamn chipper and positive-  but then I reach for  the meds and voila- passive- agressive in a bottle without sacrificing my principles… gotta love technology.   

So, I’ve been having a tough time if you hadn’t picked up on all the sappy introspect. 

The stress of being a grown up yesterday broke my head a little (read: migraine).  The Stair Master tried to kill me.  I updated my resume and I had a job interview – as in real slacks instead of yoga pants, blouse in place of bleach stained t-shirt and heels!    I’m 99% sure the migraine was my body rejecting being a functioning adult. 

I’m not sure if it’s the right thing to do right now or not.  At this point, I’m grasping at straws.   Throwing spaghetti at the wall.  Taking a stab at it.  Did I mention I use cliches when I’m unsure?

During the interview, honesty struck again. 

Interviewer:  What are you most proud of?

Me:  I should probably say my kids, here, huh?  Um, yeah, no.   I mean, I’m proud that I have I survived being a stay at home mom for this long and they’re good kids and all, but I’m proud of my writing…

That’s right.  I said that.  The second it came out of my mouth, my head started typing WTF! WTF! WTF!  (Note to self- less computer time).  But what the hell was I thinking?   I also may have mentioned poopy diapers and having hot flash flop sweats and eggs drying up. Yes. I’m certain.  I did say those.  

What I meant was that I was proud that I found a way to stay sane and by no means should they google any part of my name and search for my babble that I spew on to the Internet, because that would be silly.

So, I walked out of the interview, fairly confident about the way it went (in hindsight, I’m not sure where that confidence came from).  Sat in my car, stopped sucking in my gut, and looked at my reflection in the rear view mirror.     I swear, it was lint, but for all intents and purposes from the interviewer’s perspective,  I just did an interview with a booger hanging out of my nose.