I'd rather be dressed for an interview
job-hunting, right now.
Smooth and cool to the touch
polyester shirt, black pencil skirt, felt peek-toe shoes, a silver dragon fly
necklace to add an edge... dressed to kill. I'd be sitting in my car, the smell
and taste of spring air whipping past me toying with my curls draped over my
shoulders. I'd stop at the four-way in town. I could hear the birds cheering me
on, other cars passing by and the smell of my warm Colombian coffee with
sweet-vanilla creamer taunting me from my cup holder. I'd take a moment to
steal a sip bringing the mug to my lips and taking a second to saver, before
it's my turn to go. I'd feel my grip tighten on the worn steering wheel as I
climb gears. The roar of my engine as I head to one of my destinations. I'd be
mindlessly playing with that little piece of worn leather fabric pealing away
on the back side of the steering wheel, listening to the alternative melody
from my radio.
I'd park, and get out of the car. I
could be holding my resume feeling the warm paper and freshly dried ink beneath
my fingers walking up to the door with grace and power. I'd have the light
cologne scented perfume on my chest, the fresh smell of fabric softener in my
clothes, soft lotion-ed hands, ready with my I-pad ready to show them my
portfolio. Of course, after I've first asked them questions on who they are.
I've already been suck in the family owned no chance of a management position
for awhile now. I'm ready to move forward. Sigh, I want more in my career field
and that seems to always be on my mind, but yet. I've been thinking. Why am I
applying? To get a new boss and go through the usual routine. I could have my
own business, be my own boss.
No comments:
Post a Comment