Tuesday, July 3

Yes, I am sensational. At times. Maybe?

Last night’s episode of Bachelorette taught me so many things.

Like how, given a set o’ steamy kisses in exotic locations, and a fun day on the racetrack, Arie’s super skinny tie in Charlotte night 1 can be forgiven.

 Or how I really don’t use the word sensational enough. Though, that was more the men in my life don’t call me sensational enough. Such a great word, sensational, especially when using it to describe the object of your affection. I am pretty sure I would melt on the spot if someone crushingly handsome looked at me unsolicited said, “Jess, you are sensational.” ***Bonus points would be available if he said it when I felt I looked a mess, or was rocking a giant Daddy sized tshirt and running shorts. 

I’m big fan of the show, and if you follow me on twitter you might notice that I am a complete child of the 21sy century when it comes to my Monday nights. I am simultaneously texting with some of my best friends and my Momma, and keeping up with some of my favorite snarky Twitter accounts (@POSSESSIONISTA, @jenniferweiner to name a couple), all while watching the drama unfold.
Momma and I just doing what we do best.
Monday’s are my least favorite day of the week work wise, do you know how hard it is to pretend to be productive on a Monday? Especially when you work with three men that are always trying to freeze you to death!! But I digress. There is something about Monday nights that put a spring in my step, even on the roughest of days. The clock hits 4:45 and I bust out of my cube on a mission. I make myself a fabulous dinner, indulge in a few adult bevies and settle in.

I always wondered what my post-grad life would be like. How would I mesh my college self, which may or may not have had a little too much ridiculousness on the reg, with a more serious, working girl mentality. Oddly enough, Bachelorette last night showed me exactly that.

Monday through Friday from 8:30(ish on most days) to 4:45(on the dot), I am Jessica Johnson associate editor with Hatton Brown Publishers, a little bit of woods and a whole lot of Barbie. I’m me, to a steal a one liner from that dreadful new Willow Smith song. I gchat with the important people in my life, check for daily posts from Suri’s Burn Book, Guy in Austin and some of my favorite Mommy-bloggers. But I also scan Market Watch for news on the EPA and tier 4 (google it), edit scientific garbage into readable information, tell the stories of sweet older men trying to develop businesses their sons and grandsons can be proud of. I mesh my ridiculousness with my seriousness.

I haven’t lost myself along the way. I may have a career now, but I’m still a little lost, drinking a little too much gin, staying up a little too late, and making excuses for why I never fit a long run in.

If I ever need clarification on how I would make it all work, I’ll remember the summer Emily was the bachelorette and how, just like Arie made that hoodie work for him, I made my life work for me.

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