My first job out of art school was working in an office. I was 20 years old and I hated it.
Never mind that it paid the rent and I was really too chicken to get a job actually doing design or some related thing, so I just looked down on that job with all the arrogance and disdain I could muster. I was of a higher, more creative mind, not to be tamed by the mundane tasks of office administration. I made my best effort not to conform. To not be assimilated by the borg. Needless to say, I didn't really make a great impression there.
(little did I know how many mundane, mindless jobs lay ahead of me, still too chicken to make any real effort in the 'art world'...fear of failure, that's another post for another day)
Ok, so back to the present. I have been invited to join a book club. Which is cool. The cool kids (well, other moms with kids) invited me to join them. And I love to read, and I'd love to talk about books with interesting grown ups. I may be able to save some of my brain after all.
But then an evil thought creeps in.
I am a stay at home mom. I drive a mini van. We go on playdates. I am the disheveled woman at the grocery store with the noisy kids falling out of the shopping cart and making a fuss the entire time. And now I'm in a mom's book club. (which I actually think is cool)
But am I becoming more of a cliche?
What's next? Cut my hair and wear pajama pants to the mall??
Sadly I'm already way less chic than a lot of the mall moms.
It makes me want to do something rebellious.