Gimme, Gimme
The new and mildly exciting thing at work is the free stuff.
Since we're writing some magazine product articles, the writers of said articles are getting products to try. It's like Christmas when the mail girl brings around the cardboard Priority Mail boxes full of fun stuff.
So far, we've gotten hooked up with two Vera Bradley purses and two different boxes of spa products (have I mentioned that this is really only fun for the girls in the department?). One of the spa product boxes came with a jar of Buttercream lotion, which smells EXACTLY LIKE A BIRTHDAY CAKE. I can't stress this enough. The only thing that keeps from digging into the jar with my fingers and shoving them into my mouth is a small rational part of my brain that reminds me that it's not food. But that small rational part is fighting a battle with my natural instinct to eat lots of frosting.
There is a small undercurrent of dissatisfaction from some of the girls who aren't writers and who therefore aren't getting free stuff. I'm not getting free stuff, but I try to stay out of it. And I don't really care if I get a Vera Bradley purse or lotion out of this. I'm not entitled to it.
But my subconscious brain might have a different opinion. Early Saturday morning I dreamed that one of my co-writers and I won the purses in a department-wide raffle.
"That is such a waste," said the girl who ordered the Vera Bradley purses. She thought that neither me nor my co-writer deserved the purses because we weren't cool or feminine enough. Plus she was jealous.
"That is the snarkiest thing I ever heard," I turned around and told her. In my dream I was furious.
She didn't have anything to say, and I walked away in satisfaction, carrying my new purse.
If only it were that easy in real life.
Since we're writing some magazine product articles, the writers of said articles are getting products to try. It's like Christmas when the mail girl brings around the cardboard Priority Mail boxes full of fun stuff.
So far, we've gotten hooked up with two Vera Bradley purses and two different boxes of spa products (have I mentioned that this is really only fun for the girls in the department?). One of the spa product boxes came with a jar of Buttercream lotion, which smells EXACTLY LIKE A BIRTHDAY CAKE. I can't stress this enough. The only thing that keeps from digging into the jar with my fingers and shoving them into my mouth is a small rational part of my brain that reminds me that it's not food. But that small rational part is fighting a battle with my natural instinct to eat lots of frosting.
There is a small undercurrent of dissatisfaction from some of the girls who aren't writers and who therefore aren't getting free stuff. I'm not getting free stuff, but I try to stay out of it. And I don't really care if I get a Vera Bradley purse or lotion out of this. I'm not entitled to it.
But my subconscious brain might have a different opinion. Early Saturday morning I dreamed that one of my co-writers and I won the purses in a department-wide raffle.
"That is such a waste," said the girl who ordered the Vera Bradley purses. She thought that neither me nor my co-writer deserved the purses because we weren't cool or feminine enough. Plus she was jealous.
"That is the snarkiest thing I ever heard," I turned around and told her. In my dream I was furious.
She didn't have anything to say, and I walked away in satisfaction, carrying my new purse.
If only it were that easy in real life.
posted by Melanie at 10:18 PM
