Popularity in the work place. Let's talk about that, shall we?
I don't know about you, but I've never really had a hard time making friends. I'm a super social person, I like being around people, and I like having fun. Growing up in school (granted there were only about 12 other people in my class at all times), I felt like I had a lot of friends, great friends in fact. In college, I was thrown in an apartment with 3 other girls and we became fast friends. On top of that, I started my first "real" job at good ol' Abercrombie and Fitch, and well, when you're surrounded by a bunch of fellow 18 year old's and you're all looking to party and drink Jagermeister, it's easy to feel like you have a million friends at all times. Lonely? You don't have time to feel lonely!
After college, I started my first real "professional" office job in a new city, not knowing a soul. But, after a few weeks or so, I quickly made friends at work and soon my weekly social calendar was once again full to the brim!
Fast forward through that receptionist job at that one hair salon in Orange County, my days as a personal banker working at Wells Fargo, and then my last office job in San Diego: I made friends at all of those places. Good friends. Great friends. Some life-long friends.
But then, something happened.
I went on a 6-month long "real-life" hiatus. I quit my job. I said goodbye to my friends. I packed up my life and I went and traveled without anyone near except The Dizzle. Sure, there'd be the occasional email or Skype call with friends. Perhaps they'd read my blog every now and then to get caught up on my whereabouts. There'd be the Social Media comment here and there to touch base and say, "Hey, I'm thinking about you." But other than that, there wasn't much social interaction. It was me and The Dizzle. Which yes, of course, was amazing and I'm so happy we did that.
But a girl needs her girls, am I right or am I right?
A girl's got to have that outlet. That outlet where you talk about boys and sex and life and love and hair and nails and vaginas and yes, I said vaginas, and let's have more wine because we can, and let's hug and say how much we love each other, and you're the best, and if I was a lesbian, you'd so be my girlfriend, and, wait, was that just me?
Anyway. Moving back to The States, I was very much looking forward to having that back; that girl time I was missing so much. And I figured, well shoot, here I am going to a new city again, so this might take a bit of time. But! Once I get a job, I'll have girls knocking down my doors wanting to be besties!
Piece. of. cake.
No, Michelle. Not a piece of cake. Not a piece of cake at all. It's the opposite of cake. It's....what's the opposite of cake?
You'd think coming into a workplace that is 99% female would offer you friends a-plenty!
This is how I feel almost every day:
See me? I'm the Asian up there. And those guys? Well, just imagine that they're women. But you see me? That pained and frustrated look being left out of the loop? That's me! And see how much those "gals" are having fun, whispering, laughing, gossiping about whatever it is girls these days gossip about?
Not fun. Not fun at all.
Especially when the majority of your LIFE is spent in this place of work.
5 days a week.
9 hours a day.
(Do I sound desperate enough yet?)
So here's the thing - - I can either chalk it up to:
A) Just see this place as a workplace only. That's it. I come here to work, I do a good job, I'm nice and cheerful, I get paid, I go home. Be thankful for the new friends you've made outside of work (which, I am, I really am - you know who you are) and accept that you don't always have to be friends with every single person you come in contact with.
B) Just be patient. You haven't even been at your new job for 2 months! Give it time. They'll come to realize just how AMAZING you are and you'll be invited to happy hour every night of the week!
B) I should just get knocked up, because it seems the moment you do, a herd of fellow pregnant women and/or Mom's flock to you and become your new best friends.
See? That could be me. On the right. The redhead who wears yellow. Don't I look so happy with my new pregnant friends?
So there you have it.
I'm 27 years old and I feel like I'm 12 again. Except not. Because when I was 12, I had way more friends and was way more popular.
Maybe I should get braids again? I'm pretty sure this was in the height of my popularity in life.
P.S. I'll never get tired of showing this photo. Never.