Manolo says it is Tuesday and you are back at your desk doing that thing…you know, that thing.. with the computer and the performance memos and the shouting boss who is the female version of the Lou Grant, all gruff on the outside, and but filled with the marshmallow creme on the inside (which, frankly, does not sound all that appealing, but at this stage of the career, you will take what you can get.)
Back in the day, when you were leaving the college and entering the force of working, you were so excited. It was like the adventure, to be earning your first paycheck, and you were the spunky, brave, beautiful heroine, the working-girl Cinderella, part debutant, part warrior queen.
…and now, after 20 years of the hard labor, you would settle with being recognized as one of Cinderella’s least unattractive step-sisters, the slightly prettier and less mean Drizella.
“Cindy, why don’t you go to the ball in my place. Don’t worry, I can take care of those fireplace ashes for you.”
And for the majority of us, no longer the protagonists in our own stories, this is the best for which we can hope: to be the attendant lady, one that will do to swell the progress, start the scene or two, advise the princess.
Look Beautiful fairy tale shoes, the Glitter Pumps from Miu Miu!
Ayyyy! Perhaps the story is not yet written. Maybe this is just the lull between the acts, or the brief stutter step in the epitasis, and you are on the brink of the momentous change, and you will be forced to overcome impossible challenges and rise to your ultimate triumph!