“F**k off with your sofa units and strine green stripe patterns. I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say… let’s evolve, let the chips fall where they may.”
-Tyler Durden
Today I have made the very important decision to become the Hunter S. Thompson sort of successful, instead of becoming successful the traditional way – by being an annoying, cutthroat, needlessly hard-working shrew. HST was a drunken, reckless genius, occasionally an a-hole, and my greatest aspiration is to be his female reincarnation. I bring this up to due recent events in the workplace which have driven me to the sheer and utter hatred of what I will refer to as High School Revisited. Allow me to explain.
All along, but particularly as of late, I have had a deeply palpable sense that the modern workplace is little more than a lightly veiled regurgitation of the American High School Experience. There are cliques and outcasts, whispered gossip, lunch-time alliances. In short, there is undeniably a social strata that cannot be ignored, as it seems to affect promotions, raises, your general status in the work environment, etc.
Which brings me to The New Girl, who has been embraced with such open-armed and immediate praise that her superior was fired and she was given the newly available position. Am I jealous? Professionally, yes. Socially, not so much. It does bother me that I’ve been here for two years and have yet to experience the kind of friendly adoration that she’s so easily received, but really, you couldn’t pay me to hang out with this odd conglomeration of co-workers beyond the doors of this office. No, more importantly, it bothers me that I’ve been here for two years and, despite a commendable work ethic and near-perfect attendance, my position has stayed largely the same, save for a few added responsibilities, which I don’t really want anyway. What the hell made it so easy for this newcomer? What saintly attributes does she possess that are obviously lacking in my own performance?
It seems that there are three main types of girls in this world: the ones who are hopeless in every sense of the word, the ones for whom everything in life is remarkably effortless, and the ones who secretly fall more into the hopeless category but try excrutiatingly hard to appear effortless. I suspect that The New Girl falls into that second category, and I fall into the third. Aside from academia, most things in life don’t come easily to me. I wouldn’t say I’m unattractive, but effortless girls can hop out of the shower with no makeup, throw on a T-shirt, and look stunning; I wouldn’t (and shouldn’t) be caught dead without eyeliner. This past weekend, during a late-night jaunt through Boston with some friends, we found ourselves caught in the rain; my hair, of course, immediately morphed into something hideous and un-fixable; my effortless female friend still looked like Audrey Hepburn by 3am. And evidently, I need to perform some sort of miracle to get ahead at work.
It’s exhausting being the girl who is trying in vain to be effortless, whether it’s getting ready for a night on the town or competing for a job. Which is why I’ve decided to try to change my strategy. Hunter Thompson didn’t pander to the masses. He didn’t win scavenger hunts or participate in team-building activities. He was a grade A bastard who didn’t care what anyone thought, and it took him everywhere. So hey, New Girl, you can have the stupid corner office and lead the pointless weekly meetings and take two-hour lunches with your fellow ass-kissers. One day you will be cowering in the long shadow of my genius!
Ok, if that sounded a little narcissistic, it’s because…well, I’m a little narcissistic today. Team-building activities seem to have that effect on me.
