Consummate Professional from the Tits Up

I’m beginning to think that most of this blog is going to be dedicated to recounting the oddities of my work life.  Complain if you will, no one’s forcing you to be here.

But since you are:

I’m professional. REALLY professional.

I feel like I have to be.

I’m the youngest employee at my company. By just under 10 years at last survey. I got this job almost straight out of college and was essentially seduced away from a similar position from a similar company whose owner thought he’d get to bully me into doing my work AND his for less than our tutors made an hour (but thats another story).

I worked hard for this position, but I know I’m lucky to have a grown-up job with benefits and a 401k when I have friends from my graduating class working at restaurants or movie theaters who are deferring their student loan payments right now.

So I am very careful to always be the picture of a professional HR Director around others.

That being said, since I work from home, I can get away with waking up five minutes before my shift starts, grabbing my company computer, opening our phone system, and making my first call from bed. No one will know.

I do this a lot.

Particularly if I’m working weekends and I’m hungover.

The nice part is that most of what I do is invisible. As long as I can send a business email, or have a neat, coherent, phone interview I can look however I like.

Meetings and web interviews are quite another matter. Turn on the webcam and I have to be on point: hair sleek, flawless makeup, nice blouse. I don’t think any of my coworkers have seen me without lipstick and a healthy coat of mascara. I don’t gesture with my hands. I don’t touch my hair or face. I am pretty as a picture on screen.

From the chest up.

I have done interviews in crop tops that end at my ribs. I’ve thrown blazers on over bras. Delivery men have given me funny looks when I sign for packages in a flawless silk blouse paired with ratty gray sweat pants. My roommate likes to tell people about how she’s seen me put a cardigan on over one of those velcro-closing patterned bathroom towels after a shower.

For all this, the amount of compliments I get on my appearance, and the full points for “professionalism” I’m awarded each time a web interview is scored by Quality Control, I’m an utter fraud.

On the plus side, if you’re stressing about an upcoming web interview, that old trick of picturing your interviewer in their underwear will probably come in handy. If they’re not rocking the no-pants look they are almost certainly in some truly heinous active-wear.

Sometimes you want to wear stretchy pants.

Its for fun.

Yooooou are welcome!