Category Archives: Work

Girl Talk

In a meeting with my boss a few days ago, I caught myself saying things that I would quickly regret. My boss is a man. We have an OK working relationship and can chat about things, as equals, on topics not related to work. Anyway, during this particular conversation, I became aware that I had been prefacing my sentences with, “I feel like…” or “I think that…” and/or ending sentences with “…I think” or “…maybe” as I trailed off. Though I was conscious of it as it happened, it seemed to be reflexive and I had to fight to curtail it.

Any expert or non-expert will tell you that women speak differently than men. There’s the uptalking (drives me nuts). The vocal fry (drives me nuts even more). And the self-effacing “I think” kind of talk that wormed its way into my conversation, the kind that’s the worst, really, because it simply screams self-doubt. In my recent example, I knew what I was talking about and didn’t need to question what I was saying. Didn’t stop me from doing it, though.

So, why? Are these verbal tics (like, “like” and “y’know” and snorting into microphones)? Does every thought have to be validated? Or subject to questioning?

I’ve been in meetings with women who’ve done this. Every time, I’ve wanted to say, stop that, your opinion matters, and you’re right, anyway. And I’ve been in meetings where some big (either in terms of stature or position in the company or both) guy can walk in an hour into it, assess the scene in five seconds, and put forth an edict opinion that changes the entire direction of the conversation. Nobody ever challenges the guy! (Well, I did, once, and all it did was delay the change of direction by about 10 seconds.) As women, are we only supposed to sit there and smile?

Smiling, by the way, is dangerous. I’ve been told, at different times, of course, that I smile too much, that I should smile more, that I laugh too easily, and why the long face. And then, a couple of weeks ago, I smiled at the wrong person, who got all chit-chatty and found me on LinkedIn and started messaging me on LinkedIn and looks at my profile all the time. Nothing more has happened, but it’s creepy somehow and I no longer want to walk the halls of my office building (which poses a problem, since the bathrooms are outside the office). There’s that self-doubt again, as in, did I do something to invite any attention? Did I do something wrong? I felt so gross and uncomfortable about it that I told my boyfriend everything, like a confession, and I didn’t even do anything!

I wonder if this weird encounter (or short series of encounters, really) set the self-doubt in motion. I also wonder if being hyper-aware of it will make the verbal tics stop. That remains to be seen. Meanwhile, if anyone has any ideas on how to appear pleasant, but not attract unwanted attention, I would love to hear them.

 

 

Second Freshman

I spent a good portion of the day sitting at my desk working, helpfully reminded of that fact (the mostly sitting part) by the buzzing of my Jawbone every 45 minutes (since I have it set to vibrate after 45 minutes of inactivity). Things only got crazy when I parked about a mile away from the high school for Back to School Night, and I had to walk – nay, run, since I was (surprise!) running behind – all the way there. Even so, probably not enough steps to warrant a discussion, and in any case, my phone is all the way over there [points to phone in charger about two feet past arm’s length] so I am not getting up to get it so I can report step count and all that.

Before that (Back to School Night, not not reaching for the phone), I had A Day. Y’know, one of those days that starts off with rain leaking into your car, and is followed up by several unpleasant interactions with someone who is either a major league asshole or – no, wait, there’s no “or” here – which is then followed by the discovery of a flat tire with some sort of hole in it, only to return home and find two trees missing and the lovely aroma of mold wafting its way into the living room. So really, that sprint to the high school was the high point of the day up until that moment.

Anyway, this was my first BTSN in our new town, at the littlest one’s new school. Of course, the littlest one is 14, and his new school is the aforementioned high school, but that doesn’t mean I am not going to call him the littlest one, at least in this particular blog post. Where was I? Oh, right, getting to the topic at hand. First BTSN, first time in the new high school. My second freshman. In all the hubbub over the college freshman, little has been made about the other freshman, the guy who bravely and heartily agreed to move, even though that meant he’d start at a school where he didn’t know a single person. And here we are, two weeks into the new school year, and this child of mine seems to be doing pretty well – and his new school seems pretty terrific, too.

This is what I learned: My son is in a good place. He got lucky with teachers (my favorite one is his favorite one!), he’s in a place conducive to learning, and he has opportunities he never would have had had we stayed in our old school system. Even the cafeteria is nice. It’s a good start, a really good start.

At the end of my crapola work day, when I was ready to scream, my colleague/friend said, go home, go to the people who really matter. At the end of the day, look who I get to come home to (yeah, yeah, the grammar sucks). How lucky am I? And that, dear fan club (AKA people who share either my DNA or my room), is really what it’s all about.