watch.

I love when pharmaceutical reps walk into the doctors office. Really. They're probably some of the most interesting people I've had the pleasure to people watch. They're probably taking a few samples themselves. 

They are always dressed fabulously. Right down to their designer shoes. Male or female, it doesn't matter. There isn't a hair out of place. Not a single crease in their suit. This counteracts the luggage overflowing with samples and pens and pamphlets that they cart around and stumble over. 

The luggage is what makes them interesting. You can tell who they really are just by their bag. You can see the person behind the primped and pressed exterior by the condition of that bag. 

The new ones always have that brand spanking new bag; the fabric is stiff with confidence and naivety, the zippers sparkle with zest and anticipation, and the pamphlets stacked neatly and at the ready. 

As they spend more time in their position, their bag starts to show it.  They might keep a neat exterior, but they can't hide the wear and tear of that luggage: broken zippers, dirt and coffee stains, pens and pamphlets shoved together willy-nilly where they don't belong... it's a hodgepodge of a broken soul. 

I have to give them credit, though. They don't show their broken spirit. They show up each week with a smile and polite small talk. They cart that bag to each office over and over again. They dress like Ralph Lauren models and they hold their head high. But, if you look close enough, as they turn to walk out the door, you can catch a glimpse. Just a fraction of a second! You'll miss it if you blink, but it's there. In their eyes you can see the worn down and tired soul, yearning for a change. 

But then, as quick as their guard fell, it's up again as they stroll to their car with that trusty, loyal, tired luggage. 

frustrating.

I feel like I have gotten nothing done today. Absolutely nothing. Truth: that's accurate. 

This is running through my head as I sit in the pharmacy, drinking my fifth cup of coffee of the day. I know I have a list of everything that needs to be done before I can go home tonight. It just seems to get longer and longer. 

Today was a bad day to wear a dress. I thought I'd have one stop today. One stop turned into two, which multiplied to four. In the rain. In a dress that barely touches my knees. 

My spirits were lifted for a few moments when the nurse who came to walk me through the discharge was incredibly attractive. They fell again when he opened the door for me, displaying a wedding band. I felt better about that after five minutes of talking to him. He had a "Midwestern accent" (let's face it, that means no accent, people), that had laces of British and Bostonian every few words. It really started getting on my nerves. Was he fucking with me or is this a legit problem for him? Either way, my poor ears were not processing this mixture very well. 

I again felt my overworked heart fall when I pulled up to the pharmacy and saw the douchey, bright blue Hyundai in the lot. The last person I wanted to see after a day like today is a short, 'stylish' man with his hair done the way my brothers did theirs in the 90's (half a bottle of hair gel so the front sticks straight up). Oh, and the goatee. 

I prayed he would be helping someone else when I walked in.  He wasn't, but he was on the computer.  He looked up when I approached the counter and walked down to meet me. 

Damn. 

I'm going to take my own advice and look at the positives. Everywhere I went today, I got compliments on my dress. Even if it was soaked from the rain.