Diary of a MILF in Progress

Work it

In the interest of accountability, let me just say that I don't expect to turn into a smokin' hot mama without some effort. I don't expect my ass to suddenly perk up, my abs to miraculously tighten or my triceps to become firm and jiggle free.

I'm almost four years postpartum. It's time to move past the ravages of childbearing and reclaim my body. So, I am committing to the following:

- at least 4 workouts per week (they may be small workouts, since my time is crunched during the workweek, but I have a batch of 10 minutes spot workouts that fit the bill)
- a real breakfast every morning. Not a toaster pastry, not a handful of oatmeal raisin cookies midmorning when I'm starving from having skipped eating earlier, an honest-to-God breakfast. Cereal, maybe. Or toast with peanut butter. Or a scrambled egg.
- limit of one soda per day, maximum.
- only one stop per week at the coffee bar. Those lattes and mochas add up.

MILF-watch 2007 has officially begun.

Validation

Earlier this week, I couldn't take it anymore. I walked into Natalie's office, shut the door and looked at her with crazy eyes.

"I, uh...kinda kissed somebody."
"Mm,hmm," she laughed. "God, that's cute!"
"Well...not 'kinda'" I continued.
"Not cute?" she asked.
"Maybe cute. Not 'kinda' kissed. Kissed."
She grinned. "Aaand, does his name begin with a 'C'?"
"I can't tell you," I said. "I shouldn't be kissing people at the office!"
"Well, it just sort of happened, right? It was...serendipity. It's not like you were all up with the hands and the hair and tongue and stuff...you weren't, were you?"
"NO!" I replied, "No hands, no hair, no...no!"
"Then it's fine," she said, "it's fun and it's fine and it has nothing to do with The Husband or with Casey's marriage. You guys are OK. It was just...serendipitous."
*************************************************************************************

I saw Casey yesterday afternoon, after my vow to retreat from him. He called out a greeting, so I stopped in his doorway for a moment and made small talk.
"By the way, I like your...dealio," he said, gesturing vaguely to his own neckline.
"Oh, um. Thanks," I blushed, unconsciously patting the area between my pendant and the camisole peeking from under my sweater. I realized that it was the first time he'd specifically come out and commented about anything I wore.

And later, when Natalie commented on how nice the new camisole/sweater combination looked, I told her that Casey had noticed it too. Or maybe he meant the pendant...

"Oh, I don't think so!" Natalie said firmly. "You've worn that necklace a lot before. Your jewelry is not what he was looking at."

So...

So... It's been a week since I walked into Casey's office. And, because I am me, I have to second guess myself about what I did.

After all, I kissed him. But he didn't kiss me back. Maybe I should back off a bit and let him make the next move, I think. Because continuing to throw myself at him is a bit...pathetic and sad.

And I refuse to be that girl.

Workin' for a living

I'm good at my job. Because I am good at my job, sometimes I am called upon to do some functions for other departments. Sometimes help is needed because of the scope of the event or meeting (such as the annual conference in September, in which I provided meeting support services- registration desk, banquet oversight- as well as supporting my typical group). Sometimes help is needed because a department is short staffed (such as my upcoming tasks at our smaller Spring conference, since there is a vacancy in the meetings group).

There is a group of upper level consultants for whom there is not dedicated administrative support. All of these consultants will be overseen by a new corporate officer beginning late this year, but at this time they are overseen by our CEO. The CEO has requested that I, as well as three of my administrative peers, provide this support. Natalie has already stepped up to the plate, and she and I have already formulated how we can manage the level of support needed while still maintaining the level of work we already accomplish in our current positions. One of these ladies is willing to provide some support, but anticipates that she may not have the technical background necessary to do a great deal. And one of these ladies is a psychotic mess. Not "psychotic all dressed up as cute" the way I am, I mean full blown crazy.

She is livid that we are being asked to provide support for anyone other than our very busy bosses. She is convinced that all of the upper management staff have no respect for all of us as intelligent, professional women and that we are being treated as interchangeable cogs with no actual value. She continually berates me for "demeaning" myself by fixing coffee before meetings, or keeping a candy dish at my desk, or coordinating the sending of flower arrangements from the execs for hospital stays or condolences. She expends a great deal of energy worrying about how some of us are not demanding the "respect" of having a full height cubicle instead of a desk with a receptionist shelf.

And what is my take on this whole situation? Well, there is a reason that I (and in many cases, Natalie) get called upon to support other departments. We are called upon because we do a good job and are realistic about the fact that the organization as a whole needs us. We take on projects as we can, and request back-up for projects that we cannot handle alone. And we do with without bitching. And how many people in upper management think Shrilly McBitchalot is a pain in the ass to work with? Almost all of them. How many think Nat and I are? Almost none. So who has more comments and praise being bandied about at review time? I think we all know the answer to that.

News flash- just because I wear high heels and pretty make-up doesn't mean that I don't know how to be a smart woman in the workplace.

It's been a good week

I had my interim review today. Unlike last year, when I had the young manager who was trying to prove her importance and relevancy to everyone, I now report to an experienced executive with too much work on her plate. So, unlike last year, I got a review in which moving things forward without much input from the higher-ups was seen as a good thing, and expanding my knowledge was seen as growth instead of as an attempt to overstep my bounds.

A positive professional interaction with senior management. A positive personal interaction that left a certain someone a bit...how shall I say this...agitated. A pair of dark-wash, low-rise bootcut jeans, a fitted button down shirt, and the boots and accessories that coordinate so well with both. That's a combination I can heartily endorse.

Oh. My. Damn.

Right before quitting time today, I kissed Casey.

Holy, shit.
I kissed him. Which should not have me this freaked out, since we did a lot more in that hotel room at the conference, but somehow it is a huge deal that
I went into his office and I shut the door and walked over to where he was sitting in front of his computer and
I
kissed
Casey.

I can't really say it was impulsive, since I had thought about doing it earlier in the day and had even made sure the blinds were closed when he left for his meeting in case I decided to actually go through with it, and I even stopped in the ladies room after lunch to use some mouthwash, but I still can't believe that I. Kissed. Casey.

I had toyed it over in my mind, just goofing around, how funny it would be if we were alone in a room or the elevator or whatever, and I just planted a fabulous kiss on him right before confidently walking out the door leaving him gaping speechlessly, like what you see in the movies and such.

Which is not exactly how it happened.

Casey showed up at the office mid-morning, which I knew he would today because I knew he had a late morning meeting with his supervisor. And I saw him come in and I checked out the view when he leaned over to plug in his laptop.

When I stopped in to say "hi," as I always do with all the boys- not just Casey, since I'm friendly that way- we made flirty small talk. He asked if I'd had any more dreams lately. I hated to burst his bubble, but...no. I asked if he'd been dreaming of me. My bubble was not burst, even though he said "no."

"I don't have dreams," he said.

"Sure you do," I told him, "you just don't remember them. Which supports that you haven't been dreaming about me. If you'd been dreaming of me, you'd remember." (Talk about false bravado!)

As we were talking, Shel came by my cube to find me. She saw me in Casey's office as she went to leave, and she gave me the paperwork she'd been coming to deliver and she teased me about how I spent my time chatting instead of working. Casey acted offended that he wasn't the only one I spent my time with. Shel, too, made small talk with Casey, letting him know about the ultrasound she'd had since his last time in the office, when she found out for sure that she's carrying a girl. After she left, joking about how crazy I was to have had three kids, since she was freaking out about having two, Casey asked about the kids, verifying how many I have and how old they were and such. I admitted that the last one was...not planned, and that I made sure that I was really done this time.

"No more pregnancies for me," I said firmly. "Now I get to work on being a MILF."

"Sounds like you're well on your way," he said.

And I went back to work. And thought again about whether to stop back into his office at lunch, since none of his officemates were around. But he had an impromptu lunch meeting instead. During the course of the afternoon, we passed each other in the hallways a few times, catching each others' eyes. He dropped into my cubicle to borrow a Post-It note, the stapler, an interoffice envelope a few times.

It was close to the end of the day, and I knew I needed to leave on time. He was not in his office when I was logging off and gathering my stuff to take home. Then I heard him return to his desk.

So...
I walked into the office, and leaned back against the door, shutting it quietly behind me. He looked up, slightly curiously.

"Hi," I said, my voice slightly husky with nervousness. "I...just wanted to...say good-bye before I left." I walked closer and leaned back against the desk next to his chair. "I didn't want you to let Shel give you the impression that I treat everyone the way I treat you, that you weren't...special..." and I leaned closer and
I
Kissed
Casey
full on the mouth
and took a step back and took a breath. And then I turned to leave.

"Well. I...have to say that are well on your way. You are definately a fucking MILF."

I blushed slightly.

"And by the way," Casey said, "you can stop in and do that anytime you'd like. But right now, I can't stand up quite yet."

Sweet mother of God,
I kissed Casey.
And it certainly got his attention.