So I work in retail in the Mall of America. I get to see tons of people every day, and many of the people who shop in the store I work in are these put together adults I am talking about. Women come in with perfect outfits. They have nice black pea coats that are spotless, they wear high heels and walk without looking like their feet are going to fall off, and worst of all they have nice manicures that are not chipped and there is never a single speck of dirt under their nails.
Then there is me. I am always covered in pet hair. It does not matter if I use that little lint rolly thing or not, there is always hair all over me. My jacket is missing two buttons even though I just had them put back on like three weeks ago. Did I sew the buttons back on right after they fell off? Hell no, I am way to lazy for that, instead I just tighten the belt on my coat and hope for the best. The worst part of me on any given day though is my nails. Because I have to peel stickers off of pricey sunglasses I cannot wear acrylic nails for fear of gouging lens, so instead I just paint my nails. No matter how nice of nail polish I use, the number of coats, or how careful I am about ten minutes after painting them they are chipped to shit. If I don't paint them, there is constantly dirt underneath my nails. I am not sure how the dirt gets there, but it always does.
Notice that every single one of my fingers has chipped polish.
Oh yeah and I am always the queen of wardrobe malfunctions. I am lucky if it only happens once a week, but it seems like every day I have my skirt tucked in to my tights or have my bra sticking out of my shirt. As someone who wears a skirt or dress every single day, you would think I 'd have enough skill to at least keep my ass covered. Nope (Chuck Testa). I remember the first day I started working at the doctors office. I was really nervous about what to wear. I had never had to dress in business causal before that and spent like two hours picking something out. I remember wearing a knee length black skirt and stockings. I walked to work that morning, feeling pretty confident that I looked good. As I got to the building, someone tapped on me on the shoulder to tell me that my skirt had twisted into itself. My entire ass was exposed. So as if it was not bad enough that I had walked HALF A MILE (yes half a fucking mile) without anyone telling me that they could see my Hello Kitty undies. What makes it worse is the fact that the person who finally did point it out happened to be the first patient I checked in to the clinic on my first day. Let me tell you, it was an awesome way to start a job... (I ended up hiding behind a rack of files every single time that patient came in, because I was too embarrassed to look them in the eye. )
Check out my bra sticking out. I am one classy mother fucker.
My hot mess of a lifestyle extends further than just my sense of style. I make terrible life decisions. For example, last week I had a final paper due, which was 100% of my grade for the class. It was a 12 page paper, on four books and needed about ten sources. I had not read any of the books and did not eve have a topic till one week before the paper was due.
A week sounds like plenty of time to write a paper, right? I am sure if would have been, but that is not what I did. Here are the things I did with that seven days.
I watched the first two seasons of Sons of Anarchy, reorganized my bookshelves, played Batman Arkham City, started Phantasy Star Zero, watched 3 movies, went to the bar, read 2 books that were not related to my paper, went to work, and browsed the internet for hours. (Fuck you Reddit). So instead of having a week for my paper, I had 18 hours..... (I ended up getting a B-. Go me.)
I think I need to get a life coach or something to shape me into an adult. Maybe MTV will let me be on that show Made.... They can make me into a real grown up.
Who knows, maybe next year I will get my shit together.
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