MAMACADABRA

Let me paint a picture for you of my past 24 hours.

As you may or may not know, depending upon how far back you’ve read in this blog, a couple weeks ago I wasn’t paying attention at the gym and I dropped a 25 pound weight on my toe.  After a week of wearing leggings and Uggs to work (the outfit my girlfriend Ess refers to as “pajamas”) my toe seemed to be healed.  I started to wear low heels.  Now to be clear, I have no pants for work that are short enough to wear with low heels or flats.  I wear heels every day to work.  Tall ones.  So the inability to wear tall heels limits my wardrobe to about three outfits.  I digress.  I started wearing low heels and my toe started hurting again.  And swelling up.  I bit the bullet, bought some flats, tried them last night and they are too tight for my swollen foot.  Ugh.  Seriously?!  So I did what any clever girl would do, I stuffed my hairspray can in the toe of the shoe, and left it that way overnight to stretch it out.  I was assuming it would be like wearing ballet slippers to work, right?  Not that I’ve ever worn ballet slippers anywhere, but I assume it’s lovely.  I wore them to work today and it was so painful.  Not to mention, I’m not as cute when I’m this short, I rely on my shoes to provide at least four inches of height.  People were looking at me funny and saying things like “I didn’t realize you were so short!”  How do you respond to that without being snotty?  Smile and nod.  Smile and nod.  Smile and nod.

All of this left me a bit out of sorts.  I’m short, I’m now limping a bit, and I feel like I look utterly ridiculous.

I’m in sales.  And there are days, like today, that I REALLY do not feel up to going out and calling on people.  Or even picking up the phone and calling on people.  I don’t even want to send emails.  That, for someone in sales, is like a pitcher having a sprained wrist.  Not much success to be had unless you’re willing to call on people.  What receptionist (gatekeeper) is going to look at me struggling to walk in flats and think that I am a competent business woman who knows her sh-t?

Ugh.  I’m BAD at my job.

When I first started dating my husband, one morning we were talking on the phone while I was driving to work, and as we were hanging up he said “show them who you are today.”  Huh.  Hadn’t heard that one before.  As time progressed, he’d say it more and more, to me AND to the little girls.  If he sensed that one of us wasn’t quite enthusiastic to take-on our day, he would yell it after us as we walked out the door.  He’s a good good man.

I forget who I am sometimes.  No, I’m not saying that I don’t know myself, or implying that I need to find myself.  I’m saying that sometimes I forget how TOTALLY.  EFFING.  AWESOME.  I am.  And thus, showing them who I am becomes a problem.

I mean let’s get real here.

• I am the girl who wore a pink ruffled dress shirt, a white bow tie, a jean skirt, knee-high socks, and black and white saddle shoes in elementary school.
• I am the girl who, trying to be SO cool with her California cousins while we frolicked on a beach in Malibu, was the unfortunate victim of a seagull flying overhead who needed to discard his waste.
• I am the girl who on her first day of 7^th grade in a new school district after just having moved, wore pleated khakis, penny loafers, a dress shirt, and a broach at the neck, and thought I was all that and a bag of chips.
• I am the girl who NOT ONLY rocked the 7^th grade talent show with a rendition of Bette Midler’s version of “Under the Boardwalk” (Beaches Soundtrack anyone?) but who also rocked the 8^th grade talent show with my b-tchin’ dance moves to Janet Jackson’s “Rhythm Nation” (our neon outfits from Target were SO.  BOSS.).
• I am the girl who orchestrated a fundraiser for a classmate suffering from cancer, and invited our metro’s most popular morning show DJ to come host, and raised a great deal of money for his treatment.
• I am the girl who graduated college after TEN YEARS of trying (but I FINISHED).
• I am the girl who got fat and then lost that weight without the aid of surgery, eating disorders, or diet pills.
• I am the girl who ran (yes, yes, it took seven hours, SO not the point!) a marathon.
• I am the woman who, despite the odds against us, held this family together through some very dark times.

Flats be damned…I’m one hell of a broad!  For SO many more reasons than the few listed above.  Wait, what?  You don’t think being pooped on by a seagull in Malibu is good enough reason that I’m awesome?!

It doesn’t take much to throw me off my game.  You’re probably aware of this after reading my past posts.  But it also shouldn’t take much for me to turn things around and realize how talented, funny, and LUCKY I am.  I just have to actually sit back, take a deep breath, and think about it for a second.  If I try, I can come up with a million ridiculous and amazing memories, and in turn a million reasons that I’m actually pretty great.

The whole sitting back, taking a deep breath, and thinking about it is the problem.  Who has time for THAT?  I certainly don’t.  I can’t even tell you when I’ll be able to shower in the next 24 hours…there is simply no time!  But I think the reflection time is necessary.

You know, Stuart Smalley had something when he looked in the mirror and said  “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.”  As I’ve said before, we’re often so hard on ourselves, and the last ones to recognize how great we are.  I’m going to suggest something more aggressive than just deciding we’re “okay.”  I think we go balls to the wall and decide that we are TOTALLY.  EFFING.  AWESOME.

Don’t these people KNOW WHO WE ARE?!  Don’t they KNOW WHAT WE’VE ACCOMPLISHED?!  Don’t they SEE HOW GOOD LOOKING WE ARE?!  Well it’s our job to show them then, isn’t it?

TODAY: What if I tell myself over and over how amazing I am to have accomplished so much, been through so much, and for being so totally awesome throughout my life?  What if, I do show them who I am?  Might make those sales calls easier…or at least I’ll feel better about my battles with the gatekeepers.

PS – I have to shout a big congratulations to my well-deserving husband.  His team won a fabulous award this evening for a project they did.  Show them who you are indeed!!!