You Know You Have The Best Job In The World When...

So today my boss, a 51-year-old divorcee, brought her hermetically-sealed wedding dress from 1985 into the office. And what a wedding dress it was. Bedecked with crystal beads, a see-through lace bodice, and linebacker shoulder pads, the gown was like an 80's prom dress on crack.

I guess sentimental keepsakes become a lot less sentimental after you've started collecting alimony checks...so my boss, JR, ripped open the careful packaging with nary a care in the world and yanked her many-thousand-dollar gown out of its womb. After laughing hysterically for a good 10 minutes, she finally worked up the courage to try on the monstrosity. (Mind you, this entire ordeal occurred at 1 pm on a Friday afternoon.)

JR headed into the conference room, stripped down, and stepped into the past. At 51, JR, a registered dietitian, has run half a dozen marathons, keeps an elliptical in her 7x10 foot office, and eats nothing but kale and rainbow char. Her figure is that of a 20 year old lingerie model. So, it comes as no surprise when the dress she proudly wore 25 years ago slips easily over her hips and waist and settles nicely over her frame with only the slightest hint of tightness across her upper back. We all laughed and took pictures and then came dress-up time!

DF, one of the younger Program Managers, is about the same size as JR - 5'6, 120 lbs; slim, lean, narrow. She excuses herself to the conference room and pulls the dress on; it fits like it was made for her. She twirls around the office for a bit with a fake bouquet made from pipettes and recycled paper. After a few minutes, she tosses her faux-bouquet behind her back and EB, a co-worker engaged to be married on October 23rd, lunges for the paper flowers, catching the bouquet just before it hits the floor. She holds it up, victorious, and we all cheer and laugh.

The fun was over but my smile lasted for the rest of the day. I can't believe I get paid to do this. I must have the best job in the world.

Apparently, I'm a Klutz in DC

In Chicago I liked to think of myself as a fairly high functioning individual. I cooked and cleaned (occasionally) and did laundry. I knew how to wash dishes without breaking them and I drove my car without crashing it.

Then. I came to DC and my life seemed to fall apart. I started stumbling down stairs, dropping cups, spilling food. I went to costco with my mom and tried to make myself useful by lifting boxes of food out of the shopping cart and into the trunk of her car. Of course, the box I grab has a broken bottom and food tumbles out in every direction forcing me onto all fours in the crazy costco parking lot on a Saturday morning. I scrambled around collecting oranges and water bottles, praying I wouldn't get run over by deranged soccer moms.

So, I realized the klutziness was a real problem and decided to go above and beyond in my attempts to remedy this. I started going to bed earlier, thinking that an extra hour of sleep might help me stay focused throughout the day. I started drinking out of my camelbak water bottle during all our family meals in order to avoid knocking over my glass into everyone's meal. I even surrendered my new cutco knife to my mother so I didn't slice off a finger while cutting up fruit in my new apartment. Yet, despite my preventative measures, I still managed to sprain my finger, burn macaroni and cheese, and ruin my parents new stove in a 30 minute period after work today.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? Is it DC? Is it post-work exhaustion? Am I reverting to childish tendencies because I'm in my childhood home? Maybe once I'm all settled in my new apartment the klutziness will fade. I don't know though... thoughts?

I've Never Been So Tired In My Whole Life

Wow. The real world is exhausting.

I don't know why this comes as such a shock to me but it's literally an inexplicable feeling when you come home at the end of a 9-5 workday. Until this week I thought I knew what it meant to be tired but now I know the true meaning behind the word (and let's be honest, I'm still being quite the little drama queen. There are people who would laugh in my face right now if they heard me complaining).

When I compare my lifestyle to that of my friends doing "the finance thing" in New York I don't understand how they are still functioning human beings. Their days begin at 6 am and don't come to a close until their heads hit the pillow well after midnight. Although their jobs include long lunch breaks and idle time spent trying to look busy, they are still stuck inside an over-air-conditioned, artificially-lit office building for 15 hours straight. Yuck.

I'm very grateful because I have a fabulous job doing EXACTLY what I want to be doing but it doesn't make it any less draining. Right now I'm working at a wellness company just outside DC. It's a fairly small company but they are swamped with new clients so I really had to hit the ground running. I've only had 3 full days of work, but I'm proud to say I survived them all! It's funny... I was thinking about how I started this blog because I had nothing to do all day and writing was a way to keep me occupied. I blogged because I had nothing better to do. Now, I actually AM employed and I barely had even a second to spare to write this post. I'm wondering if I should rename the blog "I'm NOT blogging because I AM employed"

More to come later... hopefully the weekend will allow for some downtime!

Car Update!

I ended up buying a 2008 Honda CR-V.

It's taffeta white and even though I always pictured myself as more of a silver car kind of gal, I'm a big fan of the color. Very L.A.

To all of my thoughtful followers...thanks for the suggestions along the way. I considered a bunch of different cars before deciding on this one and it was a hard decision to make.

On another note...

Tomorrow (Monday August 23rd) is my first day of work. I'm excited and nervous and can't believe I'll actually be a (semi) fully functioning adult in 23 hours. Woohooo!!!

Wish me luck :)

Kat's Car Buying Adventures Part 1

"Hello there little girl, what can I help you with today?" asks the overly zealous car salesman the second I step out of the sweltering heat into the arctic Nissan dealership.

"Umm... I'm looking for a pre-owned Nissan Rogue or uhh a Honda CR-V," I stutter, taken aback by his unwavering attention to my car buying needs. "I have a pretty good sense of what I want, but I'm picky... maybe you can help me."

The salesman (let's call him J) looks me up and down in disbelief before asking me what my budget is. After I tell him my general range he turns to N, my sister's boyfriend who has accompanied me on my car buying adventure.

"Will you be financing this?" he questions N, suggesting that I am not financially competent enough to purchase a car without the help of a boyfriend or father present.

N, confused, laughs nervously. "No...I have a car. So uh... none for me today, thanks."

At this point my sister S, N, and I realize that this man has deemed me incapable of purchasing a car on my own and, in fact, seems extremely skeptical of the thought of me behind the wheel of a 2,000 pound vehicle. After I convince J I'm older than 12 and indeed in possession of a valid DC driver's license, he reluctantly hands over the keys to a sporty, black 2008 Rogue. I like the car, but it's not exactly what I had in mind. The faux-leather seats feel tacky and the inside is crowded and dark. Once I hit the road, the car drives like a dream, but after circling the block a few times I decide comfort and appearance matter more to me than the variable transmission (yeah, I totally just learned that car lingo today).

Anyway, I'm cruising along, headed back towards the dealership when all of the sudden I hear loud honking over the din from the radio. I check my mirrors and see a construction worker frantically waving an orange flag and gesturing wildly. My sister immediately shuts off the music and in the ensuing silence we hear the last of a vituperative Spanish outburst from a hundred meters back. Turns out, in my ditzy, half-focused state, I had completely missed a stop sign and barreled straight through a construction site. Oops.

Thankfully no one was hurt, but still. It's incredibly embarrassing to be a bad driver (I don't want to support the stereotype that women are hopeless behind the wheel of a car) but even more embarrassing is having a 3 person entourage to witness my poor driving skills.

As much as I love cute SUV's, I probably belong in a Minivan or a Volvo or, even better, a town car. I guess that's the dream. I'm just waiting for the day when someone will pull up in front of my house, open the passenger door for me, and chauffeur me directly to my destination.

Seriously Comcast?

So, I'm sitting in a dark, mildewy (but internet-wired) basement right now writing this brief blog post because Comcast shut off the wireless internet (and cable!) at my place. I only have 6 days left in my beloved Hyde Park apartment, so it's not the end of the world, but NOT having email access has been rough.

Sorry for the long gaps between posts. I'll try to update soon!

Maybe I Should Change the Name of this Blog

Yup, it's official. I got a job :)

After sending out my resume to over a hundred companies and drafting industry-appropriate cover letters; after whining to my parents and driving my friends crazy; after hours of babysitting and paid research studies, I can finally say: I'M EMPLOYED!

I think the hardest part now is picking up and leaving the world I've been a part of for the past 4 years. Hyde Park is certainly far from paradise but I carved out a homey niche for myself. My apartment, with its Pepto-Bismol pink walls and sticky kitchen floor, was a haven for me during the iciest days of winter and kept me safe from dining hall food and dorm germs.

Now it's on to the next apartment. My friend A and I have been searching all over craigslist hoping to find a 2 bedroom 2 bathroom unit that isn't underground and doesn't smell like stale beer. Unfortunately, I'm stuck in Chicago until the movers come in two weeks and A is busy at work all day. So, the main apartment hunter: my mom. That's what mothers are for, right? I've booked tours and appointments for her every day this week, barely allowing her time for lunch in between building visits. With little sister S playing chauffeur, mom has been trekking all over downtown DC in search of the perfect new place.

Fingers crossed A and I find an apartment we both love before the end of the week, otherwise all my belongings will sit in "movers limbo" somewhere between Chicago and Washington.

I'm looking forward to the next phase of my life but I have to say... I'm going to miss you hyDe parK.