I'm nerve-raw: I have a huge meeting and I am sooo out of my league. I am a trailer-park girl and there's this huge meeting of executive types coming up and I'll be drowning in an ocean of pantsuits and Macy's perfume selections.
They made -me- Director of Sales, and I have so little to wear. I'm intimidated by executive class assholes.
I'm wear a smock jersey grey cowl neck dress with a black triple buckle shell belt.... and some rip-off Chanel silver and black heels.... And then the -next- day of the conference, I guess I'll go with the sheer black and white cherry blossom kimono top...
And sitting and listening to marketing lectures and social networking schemes for 20 hours...
It's so not me. I'd rather be back at work, happy in my business-y Wal-Mart wear, selling the meeting rooms to happy couples, probably third cousins here in the Midwest, --for their wedding receptions. Or with Sire, or Dan, or cooking, or washing dishes, or with Jessica or even my ex-husband. I would rather do something that doesn't involve.... pretending to be something I'm not. And I'm not class, and that's fine, because I never wanted to be.
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