Wednesday, October 17, 2012

The working life: The good mirror

Here's an advantage of working that I had not anticipated: I can get close enough to the bathroom mirror to see and extract the little hairs on my chin, the ones that grow mostly out of the scar that I got from falling on my tricycle handlebars many years ago.

But there are other little hairs that need to be extracted. I can't blame everything on post-fall hirsuteness.

SH has pulled hairs for me before. Not only has he pulled them, but he has identified them with his eagle-like 20/15 vision. The man is blessed with amazing teeth, eyes, and metabolism. It's luck. That's all. He hasn't worked for any of it. Hadn't even gone to the dentist in 20 years when I met him.

Whereas my teeth - oh, how they have betrayed me despite my careful attention, including paying to see the dentist once a year with my own money, not with insurance, when I was in grad school.

I treasure my teeth.

They do not treasure me back. Let's thank whoever is in charge of teeth for dental science and the wonders it has done for me.

(When SH first met me, he thought I was a smoker because my teeth are not very white. He told me that last year, six years after we met. My hand flew to my mouth in shame: "I had tetracycline when I was a kid!" I said. "I can't help it!" He was appalled that he had hurt my feelings. But I don't have the nicest teeth in the world. I wish I did. It would take thousands and thousands of dollars to get to sparkly white, though, plus a lot of pain. I will just work on my personality instead.)

Where was I?

Oh! The chin hairs! SH has noticed and pulled them for me before, which I consider an act of great kindness.

It's hard for me to see them because our stupid bathroom with the stupid vanity is set up so that I cannot get close to the mirror unless I lean way over the vanity. I HATE VANITIES! Why didn't the guy install a pedestal sink? Nobody had vanities in 1928, when this house was built!

At least, I don't think they did.

A pedestal sink would look a lot better than the stupid ugly cheap Home Depot vanity that I want to replace only there is no money. If there were money, I would replace our HORRIBLE smoothtop Kenmore Elite stove. Who ever thought it was a good idea to have temperature determined by the amount of time the heat was on and off? It's impossible to maintain a steady temperature with that system. For the burner to be hot, the cycle of on and off is like this: onoffonoffonoff. For the burner to be low temperature, it's on, then off, off, off, on, off, off, off.

It's a stupid, stupid system made up by someone who didn't think fire was a good enough way to cook food. I want a gas stove.

Now I'm really off track.

I can't see to pull the darn chin hairs in the mirror at home. I suppose I could wear my glasses, but now I am using bifocals, I can't see in the top or the bottom of my glasses.

So what I do is sit in long boring meetings about the budget at work. The work of fiction that we call "the budget" - the work that involves painstaking detail and repeated revisions to the powerpoint presentation. The work that gets sent to management after weeks and weeks of work, only to return with the instructions that revenues must be higher and expenses must be lower.

So then we make up more numbers and we all know it's a bunch of crap.

But I sit there and keep my mouth shut while I think, "This is so boring and stupid and I'm not even supposed to be doing this crap" and while I get mad that the guy who hired me, who was supposed to be my boss, quit a month after I started, so now I'm stuck with doing all of his work, which includes the budget, which he did not document, so my new boss and I have to figure everything out and really make stuff up.

While I am keeping my mouth shut and thinking about how much I hate finance and budgeting and how that's one of the reasons I left my awful job in corporate finance, I rub my thumb on my chin.

That's how I find the little chin hairs.

Then I sit in the meeting, even more impatient. When it's done, I rush to my desk and grab my Swiss army knife and hie to the ladies room. There is a full-length mirror there and I can stand right in front of it. I can get within two inches of the mirror, find the hair, and extract it with the tweezers of the SAK.

It is deeply satisfying and makes me feel like I've done something productive with the day after all.


Gaylin said...

Oh those chin hairs! Before I had my eyes lasered I could only see clearly about 3 inches, perfect for plucking my eyebrows!
Now that I can see clearly, I have a -5 mirror to find those eyebrow hairs, so when those darn chin hairs started to show up, the -5 mirror was perfect for those as well.
Growing old is so sexy . . .

I have a pair of tweezers in my purse but have yet to use them at work, the lighting in the washroom at the office is too dim.

I have yet to have someone come up to me and say, psst, is that a chin hair I see.

wellfedfred said...

Best mirror for this purpose is rear-view mirror in our 12-year-old car on a sunny day. I dread the advent of a new car.

Class factotum said...

Gaylin, if a stranger points out a chin hair to me, I might have to hit him with my cane.

Fred, our car mirror is good, too. I used to leave tweezers on the console for stoplights!