So yeah. Lately, I’ve been having a bit of a rough time adulting. One of the main symptoms of this is a pervasive anxiety about my appearance (discussed here). Just because I know that my brain is using this insecurity to funnel a lot of my more generalized anxiety does not make it any less overwhelming. I’m long past the point where compliments help counteract the negative voices in my head. I went out 2 weeks ago in a fabulous dress with tasteful side-boob, and despite unanimous enthusiastic positive feedback from girls and guys, I remain convinced that I looked like a muscular boy in drag.
Then I dyed my hair blonde
. It’s been quite the adjustment. I’m not sure how I feel about it. Most people love it. But of course, since I am insecure about the change, all I remember are Beaut’s horror and Coach’s gentle mockery
. That’s all I needed to convince myself that I repulsive. Ugly. A muscular boy in drag with a bad taste in hairstyles.
This morning I showed up to work 45 minutes late. Traffic? Nope. Doctor’s appointment? Nope. Overslept? Nope. I had a wardrobe meltdown. 6 different outfits, 2 different bras, 3 different panties, 13 minutes sobbing in front of the mirror, 5 minutes of internal debate as to whether looking ugly was a good reason for not going to work. Afterall, when I have the flu, I should avoid inflicting the icky on my coworkers, right? Same thing. I should avoid inflicting the ugly. Charity, really. A prime example of teamwork.
Anyhow, I made it to work. I suppose I should congratulate myself that my rational brain is still approximately functional. But I was in a FOUL mood, that even 67 cups of coffee did nothing to fix. And before anyone points out that 67 cups of coffee MIGHT contribute to my anxiety, don’t. COFFEE IS MY BAE.
After 3 hours at work, one thing was clear: I hate people. I am aware that I work at one of the best companies in the world, and that really, the teamwork, efficiency and goodwill of my coworkers is unparalleled. But still. WHY MUST EVERYTHING BE SO DIFFICULT AND ANNOYING? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?
I resorted to my tried and true coping mechanism for desperate times. Listening to Eminem’s song “So Much Better”.
This song never fails to cheer me up. Possibly because the refrain is perfect:
My life will be so much better if you just dropped dead
I was laying in bed last night thinking
And this thought just popped in my head
and I thought
Wouldn’t shit just be a lot easier if you dropped dead
I would feel soooooooooooo much better
Eminem. The Shakespeare of our times.
I LOVE this song. I think it is so funny, and perfect. So much happy hatred, the contrast of the vindictive silly possibly violent dislike with the up-beat melody. And let’s be honest: we’ve all thought this about someone at least ONCE in our lives, right? RIGHT?!?! It makes sense that my doppelganger would put a smile back on my face. I suppose if I’m destined to look like a boy in drag, I could do worse than Eminem – maybe I’ll simultaneously develop a similar skill to his wizardry as a wordsmith. #theblogcomesfirst
Bet y’all didn’t realize accountants could be so thug, right? #ratchetcalculator