(read up to down, left then right)
Yesterday I had a quick job interview to try to score a second job with the school. You know that quote- "Think quickly, speak slowly"? Usually I do a pretty good job with that. Except in important situations I guess. I'm actually not very talkative most of the time. Why on Earth do I suffer diarrhea of the mouth when it comes to things that are actually relevant to my life? It's almost as though as soon as they ask a question, this jerk named My Mouth decides to blurt out a bunch of embarrassing crap, and his girlfriend My Brain is standing there, gaping at her boyfriend's sheer unfettered JERKFACENESS, until she slaps him.
I really want to practice the Art of Being Suave. Speaking in slow, measured tones, assured of my precise meaning and wit lacing every. FREAKING. WORD.
..and while I'm wishing for stuff, I want a pony.
But really. Maybe I should take speech therapy classes or something. Is there one for "Dealing with socially retarded babbling"? Or "Nervous Rambling: How to End The Heartbreak". Heck, I'd even considering signing up for "Becoming a Debonair Gentleman: For Women".
I think it's important to have the brains, but the brains don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swin- ...I mean, if you can't express the brains in a coherent, steady flow of words. Honestly, there's enough of a stigma about women in the business world without adding "babbly" to the list of stuff people will whisper about you. I already feel insecure about my voice, which conveniently gets about ten octaves higher when I'm nervous/speaking to strangers/on the phone.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go stand around in lounges and smile coolly while maintaining a mildly interested facade. People always go for that kind of thing.
Post a Comment