I got called ugly the other day. Well technically, I was asked to leave the room so the prettier coworker could come in. At first I stood with my mouth agape and looked around to everyone else in the room. No one said anything in my defense. I’m guessing they were trying to stay invisible and not wanting to become the next victim. I nodded; then left the room to find the girl he was referring to.
I found her and told her she was needed back in the meeting room. As she walked by, I couldn’t help but notice her fresh face and beautiful hair. Her highlights were on point and her makeup was done. She had cute hot pink nails and nice jewelry to match. She didn’t have bags under her eyes, she didn’t have coffee breath, in fact as she walked back to the office, I could smell her sweet floral perfume. She was prettier than me….I don’t blame her- she is a very nice girl and she was blessed with some great genes, topped off with a sense of style and upkeep. It’s not her fault – I wasn’t mad at her.
On the other hand I was furious at the manager who said that. I went to the bathroom to compose myself and began to plot my revenge on him. In the extreme scenario I was thinking of stabbing him in the kidneys and while he bled out I would stand above his dying body and repeat “WHO’S UGLY NOW!!!” (I know a little extreme, but I was really mad.) Then I came to the conclusion that Tonya Harding had it right all along, just whack him in the knees as he heads to his car to go home.
You see, now that I have a baby who is up at all times in the night I have stopped wearing makeup. My hair is only washed every 3-4 days, depending if I can find someone to watch Rowan long enough to shower and wash it. The bags under my eyes have gone from normal for a girl my age, to so dark I look like a domestic violence victim. There are days that half way through the morning, I catch a whiff of a pungent order only to realize I have forgotten to put on deodorant again. I stood up from the bathroom floor and went to wash my hands. I stopped and looked into the mirror. My hair was dirty and pulled back into my daily ponytail. The color in my hair was faded and old, having kids doesn’t allow for expensive hairdos. My nails were chewed and unpolished… I took a big sigh – “Maybe he has a right to ask for the prettier worker…”
I headed back to the conference room to finish my work. Before I entered my phone vibrated. It was my daycare lady sending me a picture of Rowan. He was doing something so unbelievably cute she just had to share it. I smiled and forwarded it on to my husband, he responded back with happy faces and hearts.
I looked through the window of the meeting room door- the Pretty Girl was in there chatting with our manager. Then it hit me- I shouldn’t feel sorry for myself! You see Pretty Girl doesn’t have an awesome husband and child like me… but Pretty Girl wishes she did. In fact we talk about it all the time; how she yearns to be married and have babies of her own someday. If anything Pretty Girl is envious of me… and our manager – well he probably has a small penis and is pissed about it. So there you have it!
I took a deep breath, straightened my shirt and walked into the room. My manager looked in my direction.
“YES IT IS I – THE UGLY ONE!” I shouted to the room. Everyone laughed. I winked at Pretty Girl to let her know I’m not mad at her. She winked back. The manager huffed in disapproval of my comment and didn’t speak to me for the rest of the day. The remainder of work went on without a hitch and the comment seemed like a distant memory by the end of the day. Pretty Girl and I are still good friends and the manager… well I don’t work with him very often, honestly it’s probably safer for him that way… 😉
Motherhood Updates 