Embarrassing. Emphasis on the ASS.

First and foremost, I know Co-Blogger Chris already thanked everyone yesterday for coming out Saturday night, but I just wanted to say it again: thank you so much to everyone who came out to Jäger Ball! The turnout was completely overwhelming (in the best way ever, of course) and we had so much fun meeting you all. Chris and I woke up in bed Sunday morning looking like black-and-white photo negatives of each other: I was oddly still in my outfit from the night before and Chris was oddly not wearing anything at all. We let out a mutual hungover grumble, gave each other a once over and agreed—It was definitely that kind of a night.

I have to say, Jäger Ball was especially meaningful to me because it was one night in my life where I just felt 100%...good. I'm used to life turning me sideways, stuffing a sock in my mouth and making me it's bitch, so a night where I got nothing but positive feedback (minus the guy who told me I was "a 7 or 8," which initially was exciting because huzzah! I made it over the mid-point! but then I heard people were telling Co-Blogger Chris he could be a Ralph Lauren model and my 7 or 8 seemed somewhat less impressive...) was a new and unique experience. I walked to work yesterday morning with an extra bounce in my step—the bounce of a winner.

And then I got to work. Where I was immediately knocked down a peg or two where I belong. And ohhhhh was it humbling...

First, let me give you some back-story. Last week Boss #1 got it in her pretty little head that something was wrong with me. I have no idea why. Absolutely nothing was wrong with me. I mean, I don't exactly love being here but I don't think I was being any more surly than usual. Boss #1, however, wouldn't give up. Something was wrong with me and she was going to figure out what it was. It drives her absolutely crazy that she can't break through my tough, enigmatic outer shell. And by "tough, enigmatic outer shell," I mean I don't volunteer graphic information about my menstrual cycle, sex life or bowel movements on a daily basis and this makes me "stand-offish."

She began her probe:

Boss #1: What's going on with you this week, girl?!
Me: Uh, nothing. Why?
B1: You seem depressed.
Me: Oh, no, I'm fine! Sorry!
B1: Don't apologize, just tell me what's going on.
Me: Nothing's going on, I promise. I guess I'm just tired today or something.
B1: It's not just today; it's been for a while now.
Me: Well I genuinely appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. [*ZACK MORRIS STYLE TIME OUT!*] I feel like this is where a normal person would have accepted that nothing's wrong and backed off. I appreciated her concern and if something were really wrong, I probably would have told her at this point. But there was nothing to tell. And I feel like I adequately expressed that. Case closed. Move on. [*TIME IN!*]
B1: Did you get in a fight with Russell [the Homophobic Co-Worker] again?
Me: No...we're fine, I guess. Honestly I haven't even seen him in a month of Sundays.
B1: How's your family?
Me: They're great! Everything's fine, really.
B1: ...You're not interviewing, are you?
Me: I'm not interviewing, I swear! You know I love this job. [*ZACK MORRIS STYLE TIME OUT!*] It's true that I'm not interviewing, but it is incredibly untrue that I love this job. Mostly I'm not interviewing right now because I couldn't pass a drug test to save my life and my god do I hate cranberry juice. [*TIME IN!*]
B1: Are you seeing someone?
Me: Uh...no?
B1: Why not? [*ZACK MORRIS STYLE TIME OUT!*] This is the single most irritating question on the face of the planet that one human being could ask another. Because I don't know why I'm not seeing someone, asshole. Because I hate sex. And my vagina has fangs. Strong, ample fangs that I sharpen nightly and widdle things out of wood with. And I refuse to get them removed because it's unethical and I fear PETA's wrath. That's why I'm not seeing anyone. Christ. [*TIME IN!*]
Me: Uhhh...I really don't know. I'm just not.
B1: OK...well...if you ever need to talk, I'm here.
Me: Well, I appreciate that.

And I did. Although I found her line of questioning irritating, I knew her heart was in the right place and I appreciated her concern. I decided I would attempt to be 5% more perky around the office and figured that would be the end of that. Now, flash forward to yesterday afternoon. There I was, sitting at my desk with a furrowed brow, deep in "concentration" as I filled in a blank spreadsheet with the number "69" over and over again when Boss #1 slithered over...

B1: Hey girl! How you feeling this week?
Me: Great! Great weekend. How are you?
B1: I'm fine, thanks. So after our talk last week I got you something off the Internet that I really think is going to make you feel better! [*ZACK MORRIS STYLE TIME OUT!*] How cute is she?! I mean, she must really appreciate me to want to get me a little present to try to cheer me up! Coming off the love-fest that was Jäger Ball, I felt on top of the world at that moment. Just really appreciated. Plus, I was straight-up giddy thinking about what my little pressie might be. An early Christmas gift? Jewelry? The handbag she knew I'd been coveting? The bar stool she promised me a few weeks ago? Tehehe... [*TIME IN!*]
Me: Awwww...Boss #1! You didn't have to do that! I told you I'm fine!
B1: Well it's just a little something that I think you'll really benefit from. Here! [She reached into her bag, pulled out the gift and set it before me:]


It was a bottle of Natra Pure All-Natural Colon Cure. My boss got me a fucking bottle of laxatives she bought off the Internet. (Now with Green Tea!) And I'm not just saying this for affect, but at that moment, I 100% thought that I was going to burst into tears. Because apparently the vibe I give off to people on a daily basis is that I'm depressed and constipated. DEPRESSED. AND CONSTIPATED. People look at me and think, "Hm. You know what that girl needs? A good cleanse of her colon! That'll perk her right up!"

Me: You got me........a colon cleanser.
B1: I SWEAR BY THIS STUFF! It's got like, corn husk it in or something and you take two a day with a glass of water and I'll tell you what—you'll be a new woman by morning!
Me: You got me........................................a colon cleanser.
B1: You're welcome, girl!

And that was that. That's all it took to knock me down from my post Jäger Ball high and humble the ever-living shit out of me [pun intended!] And you know what the most embarrassing part is? I'm probably going to try it tonight. Because why not? I got it. It's not like I can sell it on ebay and take the money. Who would buy shady Internet laxatives? OH WAIT...Plus I'm just genuinely curious if I will indeed feel like a new woman in the morning. So I'm going to come home, pop on some jammies, turn on NatGeo and shit my brains out.

Yep. Here I am. Right back where I belong.