Summer League For My Life

I just finished up my first full week of work since May.

And it was jam-packed with nonstop new employee meetings and a flood of new information.

One of the days was back to back meetings with different executive team leaders. And they kept asking what department I work in. Within the company.

And I don’t…I don’t actually know…? I’m not…in a department…?

So they’d ask me to just explain what I do. In the company.

Yeahhhhh…I don’t actually…know that, either…I write stuff…?And manage projects…?

And I’d just kind of fumble around until they moved on to the next person.

They’ve probably put my name on a list to be fired soon…

My brain is tired.

Which is what I’m going to point to if anyone asks me, “Dude? The fuck are you doing???” at any point in my day.

“It’s summer league for the refs, too, I guess.”

I don’t know how many of y’all watched that Milwaukee-Boston game the other night.

But the officials? Just making all the wrong calls? Like, just blatantly wrong calls.

They’re me. In all of my life.

Not even just work at this point.

Just full on incompetence in all of the areas.

It’s just…Summer League for my life right now, too, I guess.

Allow me to share.

Exhibit A:

Texted my dad. Tuesday afternoon.

So, if the mower is turning over and won’t start, does that mean the battery is dead? I swear I didn’t leave the key in it. I’m choking it and pushing on the brake and I don’t have the blade engaged. I’ve tried everything.

My dad, not at all condescendingly and who I absolutely do not deserve: “Ok. Does it have fuel?”


…I just want to say that I am a very intelligent woman…

Exhibit B

I have this habit. Of saving people in my phone under nicknames.

Which is cool.

Until I forget who had what nickname.

Got a call the other day. From Alternate BFF.

Who in the hell is Alternate BFF???

And I don’t…I couldn’t remember who I’d assigned as my Alternate BFF.

Like, what scenario had actually led me to determining who was going to sub in when The BFFF decided to step down. Or, in keeping with the basketball theme, put me on waivers.

I didn’t answer it quickly enough. Because nonstop meetings.

But at lunch, I called them back.

Having no idea who to expect.

Just kind of winging it and hoping for the best.

Which we all know is when I’m at my best…

When Alternate BFF answered, I still didn’t know.

So I just said, “Hey! It’s Sunshine!”

It was The BFFF’s mom. She’d been assigned as Alternate BFF when The BFFF was using her phone.

She’d called me accidentally. Which she fully admitted. Like a grown adult woman.

I, however, was far less forthcoming. And acted like I totally knew. The entire time. And was just returning her call. As one does. When one is a normal human being.

It was fine, though. We had a nice little chat.

And intelligent people often create codes that even they can’t break.

Exhibit C

My boss and I. And several other people. Like, people in three different time zones. And two different countries. That many people. Learned this week that Sunshine can take a perfectly acceptable excel spreadsheet. And just scramble it all to hell.

“Why don’t we get Other More Intelligent Woman to help you with this.”

Yes, please.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before.”


Probably because you assumed that you hired an intelligent capable woman…

In my defense, excel really should be smart enough not to have let me do what I did.

And because I hadn’t quite humbled myself enough this week.

Exhibit D

So, I was walking downtown over lunch. Because I’m a city girl now. And I’m wearing this fabulous dress that I love.

And I was maybe feeling a little too good about myself. Because my brain chose the following interaction. As an opportunity to humble myself. And remind me who exactly I am.

So, I’m walking happily downtown.

And this very attractive, very professional-looking woman calls to me from across a parking lot.

“Excuse me. I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind. But where did you get that dress? It’s beautiful!”

Thank you! $12 on Thred Up! Where did you get yours, though? You look amazing!

“Thank you! $6 at Target! But your dress is just gorgeous!”

And this is where I should have just said thank you again and went on back to my desk in the glow of fellow female complimentaries. This was a nice, normal, positive female interaction.

But I’m me…

I can’t not make it awkward…

So I said, You should feel it! It’s sooo soft!



And I ran across the parking lot.

Across an entire parking lot.

In dress shoes. And a dress.


Across a parking lot.

Not just, like, a couple of steps, either. She had to actually stand there. In the sun. For several seconds. Waiting for me to reach her…

Where I forced this poor, unsuspecting, just wanted to share a compliment didn’t want meet a stalker, woman. To feel my dress…

And then Rogue’s voice. In my head. Saying, “Stop making her touch your dress, Sunshine.”

So, I apologized. And took myself back inside. To my cubicle. To finish out my Summer League week. With nonstop meetings. Where I continued ineptly explain what I do.

(Incidentally, my boss addressed this issue this morning. And gave me an elevator pitch. For what I do.)

(I wrote it down.)

(I still can’t explain it.)

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