{I am anything but} Glamorous

My alarm used to go off and I'd groan.

Sleepily throwing my hand on and smashing the snooze button.

Just nine more minutes.

Then.

I'd brush my teeth.

Shower.

Pick out a dressy casual outfit.

Put on my make up.

Scrunch up my short hair.

Take a look in the mirror.

And head out the door.  Leaving my house in disarray.  My house, though I loved it...I never felt adequate.

I got inside my little red Mitsubishi Lancer, cranked the Country music and drove 35 miles to work.

I took my exit, a little too fast.  Took my first right and swung through the backside of the Target parking lot.  I pulled into my usual parking spot in front of Pier 1 imports.  Checked my makeup in the mirror.  Glanced at my cell phone, always 20 minutes early.

Enough time to grab a coffee from across the parking lot, talk to the stand owner and then open up the store.

The moment I walked into that store I no longer felt inadequate.  I was where I belonged.  I knew what was expected of me and I daily met or exceeded those expectations.

Lights. On.

Music. On.

Check our numbers from the same day last year.

See who I had working with me for the day.  And smile because it was Dana, a 19 year old fresh faced, happy-go-lucky girl.

Schuyler a 19 year old 6'4" kid with a baby.  Flirty, funny Schulyer.

Amie.  Stand-offish.  Attitude.  Heart of gold.

And Alison.  The tall beautiful girl that I didn't want coming to work there because I was just sure she'd be the snobbiest of the snobbies.  But I loved her immediately.  Finally, someone who understood my sarcasm and could take it as well as dish it. 

She was fabulous.  So fabulous, my youngest has her name.

I set our goal for $1000 higher than last year's number and unlocked the doors. 

Ready for customers.

They'd slowly trickle in.

I'd smile.  Tell them good morning and let them browse about five minutes before I approached them.

"I'm supposed to ask for Sarah Lee."  Some of them would say.

And that's when my sales would start.  They'd come in for $25 worth of candles and I'd sell them those candles and a couple of chairs and an end table to match that they hadn't planned to buy.

$1500 to the occasional $6000 days.

I was good at my job.  I loved my job. 

There was recognition.  There were awards.  There were thank yous and well dones.

There was always something to talk about when I got home in the evenings.  You know, if someone was home to listen.  Or, I'd call Josh while he was in Montana or Oregon or Idaho and tell him about my day.

He was proud of me.

"You should sell cars," he'd tell me.  (He even just said this last night)

I was proud of me.

And then my firstborn came along.  I always knew I'd want to be a stay-at-home-mom.  So that's exactly what I've been for six years.

My alarm clock became the cries of a child.  And my dressy casual outfit became sweatpants and a hoodie.

My sporty Lancer turned into a minivan.

And the good jobs and well dones, and the recognition...

Well.

Well they don't exist anymore.

A lot of the time I'm okay with that.  This is my job.  The one I've chosen.

But it's a hard job.

And it's the least glamorous one out there.

I no longer have exciting stories to share. 

And once again, I feel inadequate.

I daily feel I'm not doing enough.  Sure, the house is clean enough, bills are paid, dinner is planned and the kids are still alive at the end of a day.

I know there are woman, those who are mothers and those who are not who would love to be in the position I'm in.  I am sure I sound ungrateful. 

I'm not.

I'm just going through a rough time.

Whether one works outside the home or not, I think at some point we all get a little fed up.

Right now, that's me.  I'm fed up.

Fed up with not being good at this job.  Fed up with the lack of recognition.  The long hours with no overtime pay.  No sick leave or paid vacations.

And in a few days this will pass and I'll be fine again.

But for today I'm dreaming of getting in my little red car and pulling into a familiar parking lot and walking into a building where I know I'm good at what I do.