Short Stories

I tried not to picture the man with the mustache. But that was impossible; he kept popping up in my head. Any time I saw a mustache, this man's image invaded my mind. My boyfriend had a mustache so I made him shave it. He'd had it since before we started dating and I had never gotten to know the skin of his upper lip along with the rest of him. It made me feel uncomfortable and guilty that I refused to respect this skin just because it was covered by hair. What other skin was I neglecting? I had to break up with him before he started to go bald.

Dennis, we have to break up.

What the hell? Why?

Honestly?

Honestly.

Your upper lip skin makes me feel guilty.

Guilty? You told me I had to shave!

That's because I can't look at mustaches anymore but your upper lip skin made me feel guilty for neglecting it all this time. 

Neglecting....what?! Why can't you look at mustaches anymore? You used to love it!

I have to go.

We need to talk about this!

No. I can't talk about mustaches anymore. I have to go.

I think I probably hurt his feelings but he just didn't understand. And I wasn't about to go public about the mustache man so there was no way he could understand.

Stress

Stress is a funny thing. Maybe it's just my brain. Maybe I just need more coffee.

Here I sit, ready to interview prep and all I can think about is the Seahawks. Not altogether surprising, considering it's Super Bowl time again, but my oatmeal and my latte are getting cold and I'm staring off into the distance thinking about Seahawks socks. It's not productive and it's not going to get me a promotion.

When I think about if I'm stressed or not, of course my conscious brain gives me a very calm and collected answer that no, I'm certainly not stressed. I am completely ready for this interview and I can speak to everything I've been working on with complete clarity. I am so ready for this promotion and can do it with my eyes closed. After all, I've basically been doing the job for three months.

My body is having a different reaction to the question at hand. Every time I think about the interview my stomach ties up in knots and I feel like I'm going to vomit on any and everything around me. My skin dries up and I have lovely red patches all over the place and my cuticles are a nightmare. But maybe that's just a lack of water. 

Every day closer to Tuesday my stomach ties up a little tighter and food becomes less and less appealing. The red patches aren't going away and my delightful conscious brain is still telling me I'm fine, I'm ready while I am unable to focus on preparing answers to interview questions and reflecting on my growth as a manager.

Why do you want to be a store manager?

I love coffee. I'm drinking coffee right now. It's getting cold. That day old bread looks delicious. I wonder if I should get some bread for later. Would anyone help me eat a loaf of bread? I don't need a whole loaf. These guys next to me are really loud. Not even Mozart can block them out. Mozart because it really helps me focus. I'm great at focusing and getting tasks done. Yeah, that's a great quality I should write that down. What category does that fall under? I need some juice. That hipster on the Mac is only wearing shades of green. I wonder if he did that on purpose. Is my typing too loud? I need a new pair of leggings. Yeah, to wear with the Seahawks socks! Good thing I got that gift card. I love my team. Oh yeah, my team. I want to inspire them. How have I inspired my team? 

The unusual thing is, I don't get too nervous for interviews. Maybe it's a good thing that I am. Maybe it's better. Minus the inability to prepare, maybe this means I'll be better. 

I guess we'll see how Tuesday goes.