So Jim and I were having a conversation. It went something like this:
Jim – “I’m sick of supporting you and all your filthy habits!”
Me – “But I have to spend money to look this good for you!” *waves arms in sexy motion around bod*
Jim – “Tough! Pay your way or get out!”
Me – “You are a killer of dreams.”
And just like that, my days of being a small town newspaper reporter were over.
Okay, it wasn’t quite like that, but I mean, it was kind of close. Let’s just say the times, they are a-changing. And in a move that I can only describe as good for the soul, the mind, the creative spirit, and the pocketbook, we decided to shop around to see if there were any other opportunities out there for me.
The assumption was that it would take months and months. No problem, I thought, I’ll send out some of my fancy resumes that I made with the fancy resume-maker that I found on the google, and then I’ll sit back and enjoy the summer. Hooray!
Hello? Yes, this is Marney… An interview? Sure.
Y’all, I GOT A JOB. Like, lightning fast. I mean, it’s not that unusual seeing as I am a human bucket of awesome, but still. It was kind of cool.
So what does the writer who thinks that Sears is high class and TJ Maxx is legitimately swanky (dude, I bought a dress there with SEQUINS, hello!!) do when she leaves her writing job?
She gets a job as a writer. In high end fashion. Of course.
Technically, my title is “Social Media Manager” which means that I am in charge of all sorts of stuff that gets out to the public. You know, info and stuff. But I think what I really am, still, is a writer. It’s my job to write all about this kinda cool fashion and these fairly spectacular dresses that are all part of this line. They are like, cool.
See, my writing skills are coming in handy already!
Anyway, when you get a job in a place that creates fashion, you feel compelled to dress reasonably nice, even though they are clearly not turning to YOU for fashion advice seeing as they’ve been doing this a whole lot longer and oh yeah, there’s that whole Sears and TJ Maxx thing you got going on, as previously mentioned.
So this means I have become a girl who can not walk out of the house without getting approval from others on what goes on my bod. Via the selfie.
A “selfie” is hip cool youngfolk talk for “self portrait with your cell phone.” There are several types of selfies:
It’s the last one here that I have officially fallen prey to. Apparently, I need to know how I look, and a glimpse at myself is just not enough.
This really happened:
If you are color blind, you cannot even tell that I am wearing something different everyday.
Apparently what has really changed isn’t my job. It’s my ability to leave the house without approval.
Lord help the fashion industry.