I didn't shower today

For starters, I didn’t shower this morning. It’s not that I’m a hippie or being all green or whatever. It had to do with either sleeping for 40 minutes more, or looking clean.

Sleeping always wins.

Granted, maybe I shouldn’t be staying out with my improv group until 1am on a Tuesday. But what can I do? They’re my best friends and hysterically funny. They make it hard to go home.  

Back to showering—or lack thereof it.

I may not be the most put together person at work today. I think I smell (I tried to do a pit sniff but too many people were around), my hair is in a greasy/messy (read—not cute) ponytail, and I have my glasses on. Basically, I’m not presenting my A game right now. I’m playing with a K game. And that’s being generous.

This wouldn’t be a big deal because, you know, it’s just one day and I’m super busy with work. But the guy I’m crushing on, who from here on out will be named JS, works with me. Thankfully he is on the phone all day in sales and sits far (ish) away from me.

Still.

I had to use the printer by his desk, which means I walked by and exchanged a few words. Then I had to pee. Now, I hate HATE HATE looking at myself in the mirror in any public setting, especially with fluorescent lights beating down on the mess that I call myself. So, for some reason, after talking to JS and heading to the bathroom, I decide to see how bad the damage is today.

Yuck.

Which brings me to the actual point I’m trying to make. Guys can get up, not shower, throw a hat on, any shirt and pants, and be out the door. In my honest opinion, guys look better a bit scraggly and disheveled. When I try to follow suit, I just look like I got hit with a shovel.

Whine moment…followed by a heavy wine moment/hour (like what I did there? You’re not a fan of word play? Shame. You’re kind of cute).

Girls have it rough. Between worrying about make-up, flat stomach, boobs, hair highlights, classy clothes….I’m exhausted typing out this checklist. I’m not a girly-girl. At all. I can take anyone in any sport and hold my own. I’m proud of myself that it doesn’t take me two hours to get ready to go out. Or that when I go to the gym, I’m there to sweat, not to bounce around for the pleasure of the dudes working out.

If I were a dude, I would want a girl like me. Someone who isn’t high maintenance, who can kick it on a Saturday watching ESPN highlights for the 12^th time, eat a huge pizza, and not be afraid to throw out a That’s What She Said quip. I’m not saying I don’t like looking all dolled up, or being called beautiful, I’m just saying that there is so much more to me than the part in my hair and the cup size under my shirts.

I’m messy and awkward and not graceful. Weird sounds come out of me and I sweat a lot. But I also have an unwavering loyalty to my friends (and maybe someday a boyfriend—JS?). I go out of my way to make their lives better because it makes my life happier knowing they are smiling and laughing. I’m really goofy and say really random things to get a reaction out of whomever I’m with. Not because I’m trying to be a hipster or annoying, it’s because I’m trying to see who can play along and keep up. I’m attracted to people who keep me on my toes and thinking.  

I may not be the prettiest girl in the room. But you’re going to remember me because I bring more to the table than my big brown eyes. I promise you, if you had to describe me, my looks would come at the end of the list. Not because I’m hideous, but because there’s a lot of awesome stuff that takes priority over the way I look.

Because at the end of the day, you want to go home to someone that makes you laugh, makes you forget why you were stressed, and is comfortable enough with themselves that it allows you to shine as bright as you should.

Maybe I am the solution. To someone.