I went to work today prepared for the worst. I made sure to dress my best, in something I felt comfortable in and looked great in and something I could sweat in. :) I even went to Wal-Mart at 11:30 last night and bought waterproof mascara.
By the way, I don't like waterproof mascara. It goes on funny.
I enter my cubicle and my heart is racing. I expect to see something on my desk. Like a note that says, "Come to my office as soon as you get in." Or even a box with the the following words on it: Please pack and leave. But nothing is on my desk. So I tentatively set down my purse and take off my sunglasses. I sit on my ball (I have a "fitness orb" or pilates ball instead of a chair). I unlock my computer. It's been rebooted. I just know that means that they've put some kind of tracker on my computer to watch me. I double click on Outlook. It takes years for the program to load. I memorize it's logo. And finally, I see I have three new e-mails.
I close my eyes. I take a big breath and swallow hard.
I open my eyes and see who the emails are from...and there are of no consequence to this story. Nothing. No notes. No phone messages. No emails. No, they're just waiting to ambush me here at my cubicle.
My friend Jamie comes to visit me and perches on my desk like she does every morning around 9:00 when I come in. She says she's going to the cafeteria for breakfast and I decide to go with her. I get an orange juice and a cookie and watch as the nine-month pregnant woman devours a breakfast burrito (a food that I've never quite understood). And as we eat and talk, the VPM comes in and purchases something. He doesn't stop by. He doesn't say anything. But I know he's seen me and I've seen him. But no reaction. Just a lot more of nothing.
I work hard all day. I get more done in this day than I usually do in three. All morning, nothing. I go to lunch with friends. Nothing. Every time my office phone rings, I hold my breath. Nothing. A whole lotta nothing.
Several of us escape for a few minutes and head to the dairy, or "Moo" as we like to call it, for an ice cream break. I order a scoop of German chocolate ice cream in a cone and its delicious. I spill a teeny drop on my new white shirt that I purchased special late last night. Tisa has a Tide pen in her purse. I should do that. She's a mom. She's the only one there who's a mom (officially--but give Jamie another couple weeks) and it's obvious. Will I ever be as prepared with Tide pens in my purse for mishaps just like this?
Back to work. The VPN hurries by my cubicle (he's always in a hurry) but back tracks for a moment when he sees me sitting there. He asks me how I am and explains again that he thinks there's a better way to get money than to just bang down the door. The CEO will only respond by digging in. As soon as he says what he has to say, he starts to walk away (he always does this--if he were a doctor I would quit seeing him because he rarely waits for a reaction or gives time to answer questions). I ask if he's read my letter. He says no. I told him to please read it and that he'll understand my angle and what I am trying to do after that. He also promises to keep reminding the CMO about this so that we can get something taken care of. And he's gone.
I respond to the email the CMO sent me yesterday. I copy the VPM. I apologize for putting him in a position he was unprepared for. I asked him to read my letter before assuming I am raising a rowdy, angry army against the CEO. I tell him I would love his feedback and help as he can only help my success. I tell him I plan to go forward with this next week but if he needs another day or two, than he can set up a specific date with me.
We'll see how it goes tomorrow.
I will wear the waterproof mascara again.
I hate waterproof mascara.