All my life I've wondered what it was like to be Tess McGill. I would just be a brown version of her with a huskier voice. I would be like my mother in a hosiery club for office decency. I expected to be in a corner office and wave to passerbys. Maybe I could be Mary Jane Paul when she's writing. I too could have a desk drawer with a fifth of vodka. There would be some snarling old man of a boss growling about my presence. I'd be so well-dressed and articulate. I'd be chosen for teams and put on big projects. I'd be able to lean in at the boardroom meeting.
Nope.
I work in an office with three other girls. The only guests we have are people from IT.
I am the girl caged by a cherry wood desk.
I am that girl.
It doesn't matter where I went to school because we all did. It doesn't matter who is proficient in Office because we all have foggy moments in Excel. It is fucking freezing. The water cooler is always broken. Someone uses the conference room for working out. There is a plethora of mean girls who dress like B movie actresses. I take my work home with me every single day. I dream in spreadsheets. My boss is drop dead gorgeous and is the epitome of pure evil. She doesn't deny it either. The evil that is.
I applied to make coffee. I now specialize in severed limbs. On a good day I'll do my hair and put on heels. Most days I am rolling out of bed. If I didn't have time to make a salad I'll scavenge the complimentary snack basket or order Chinese with the masses. No one uses Square because cash is more trustworthy. I can listen to Pandora with one ear bud. I get yelled at 2.3 times a week for things completely out of my control. Email is a more public form of accountability. I caught someone looking at porn in a cubicle my first week. Yes, office life is everything I thought it would be.
Pffft.
Nope.
I work in an office with three other girls. The only guests we have are people from IT.
I am the girl caged by a cherry wood desk.
I am that girl.
It doesn't matter where I went to school because we all did. It doesn't matter who is proficient in Office because we all have foggy moments in Excel. It is fucking freezing. The water cooler is always broken. Someone uses the conference room for working out. There is a plethora of mean girls who dress like B movie actresses. I take my work home with me every single day. I dream in spreadsheets. My boss is drop dead gorgeous and is the epitome of pure evil. She doesn't deny it either. The evil that is.
I applied to make coffee. I now specialize in severed limbs. On a good day I'll do my hair and put on heels. Most days I am rolling out of bed. If I didn't have time to make a salad I'll scavenge the complimentary snack basket or order Chinese with the masses. No one uses Square because cash is more trustworthy. I can listen to Pandora with one ear bud. I get yelled at 2.3 times a week for things completely out of my control. Email is a more public form of accountability. I caught someone looking at porn in a cubicle my first week. Yes, office life is everything I thought it would be.
Pffft.
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