Wednesday, March 30, 2011

It's like a Frappuccino (or maybe not because I don't really know what those are since I never go to Starbucks, but I think they're blended coffees? If not, that's totally what I meant, so just go with it.)

Work friends….it’s such an odd relationship, isn’t it? I mean, you want to be friendly with the people you work with, yet sometimes there’s a need to have the whole “you need to get off your ass and do a better job because I can’t do my job effectively if you’re not doing your job effectively” talk and that’s just not very friendly, huh?

One of the main reasons that work friendships are sometimes awkward is because, when you work with lots of women, work friendships can be just another way for the Mean Girls to attempt to assert their dominance over weaker females. And really? I survived high school….who needs all that noise?!? No, I need a special blend of “friend”, “mom/sister”, “boss” and “drill sergeant” in my work friends.

I need friends at work who:

-will tell me when I have a giant booger in my nose…especially if it’s 2:30 in the afternoon and I’ve obviously been walking around with this freakin’ thing all damn day!

-will tell me that a 45 minute lunch break is sufficient and I need to go back to my office and get some shit done instead of eating all of her M&M’s out of the little dish on her desk as we discuss our weekend plans.

-will acknowledge that I do not, in fact, look fine without make-up on. It’s okay…really…I know that I don’t look just the same with make-up as I do without it. Don’t bullshit me, but recognize that if I’m not wearing make-up at work, it’s probably just because I’m having a crappy day. So while it’s okay to agree that I look rough, don’t rub it in.

-will also acknowledge that the outfit I’m wearing A) does not match, B) is no longer in style, or C) highlights my muffin top. I need to know if I look like a total idiot and I’m more than willing to clean out the ol’ closet now and again.

-will give me some sort of signal during a meeting with either our bosses or some other important people and I’m making a total ass out of myself by talking about the entirely wrong situation or person…which has totally happened….like twice.

-will not judge me for being late for work for the 487th day in a row because there was some sort of livestock emergency at my house. Hey, shit happens when you own horses, okay? They’re not the smartest creatures on the planet and tend to get themselves into bizarre situations involving wire, running loose or bleeding profusely. They’re worse than kids…seriously…but they don’t puke….which is nice, because I’m not a fan…of puke. Horses? Yes. Puke? No.

-will also not judge me for being late for work just because I still cannot get my shit together in the mornings and while I recognize that I’m 30 freakin’ years old and have only been working for 15 freakin’ years so you’d think by now I’d have some sort of routine down in the morning? I don’t. So don’t judge. I already get it from my kid’s principal who just *happens* to greet me at the door as I’m pushing her into line with her class so that it kinda looks like she’s been there the whole time…..I don’t need it from you.

-understand my need for snacks mid-morning and mid-afternoon and will keep a steady supply handy so that I do not go hungry. Yes, I have snacks in my office, but I don’t want them. Why? Well, because they just don’t taste as good as yours.

-are able to recognize that I manage to meet deadlines at work, be attentive and focused at meetings and maintain an air of professionalism at work, yet a phone call from my kid sick in the nurse’s office throws me straight into “Mom Freak Out Mode”. I’m a “mom who works”, not a “working mom”.

-will have no problems covering for me when I gotta run see my kid be a hill of snow in the kindergarten music program….and who will not hesitate to ask me to cover for her when she needs to run eat “Muffins with Mom” with her kid. Moms who work need to support each other as much as possible! Oh, and talking crap about it after agreeing to cover for me? LAME.

See? It’s a complicated relationship.

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