I got my ID picture taken at work today and it was all neck. I think the HR lady was mesmerized by my 1992 Manic Panic red hair and glowing white cleavage and she just fritzed. Even the bullshit gals at work, the PYTs that speak in unison, they who said my horrible hair "totally looks cute"--even they admitted that I will have to show my neck to the security guards or risk being shot.

Every half hour I get cold sweat panics that I have made a horrible, horrible mistake. I chose the job that wanted me most, had better hours, a terrible salary, and good supervision. However now I see that my supervisor is crazy in the precise way that I most despise. She is a know-it-all without the calm arrogance--that's more my thing--instead staking her claim with an underlying tone of panic and insecurity. The kid with her hand up, waving that arm, nearly out of her seat with the desire for validation.

Also everyone brought in their prom pictures. Although that was actually fascinating, sociologically. My supervisor revealed her new money background and her painful exclusion from the debutante season (it all makes sense.) And the gal from southern Illinois was showing us pictures of what I took to be homemade Barbie cakes, but were actually young women involved in some kind of prom pyramid scheme and livestock show.

Sadly no one asked me about my prom and I didn't get to quietly state how prom wasn't really my thing in a way that conveyed that I was, even at such a young age, above all that silly bullshit. Yeah and I weighed 300lbs, but seriously, I could have gone to fucking prom.