After three years with my current company, I have definitely branded myself in a few different ways around the office. Currently, I’m working on becoming the Chocolate Girl by purchasing an exorbitant amount of Lindt truffles and offering them up to (read as: forcing them on) my team during that post-lunch lull.
I’m the Girl Who Goes to Lunch Super Late, as well as the Girl Who Never Finishes Her Lunch and Feeds the Sales Team with the Leftovers.
I’m only just now realizing that they all revolve around food…and I can’t say that I’m surprised.
I do have one (non-food-related) brand that I have carried with me through three different positions and all kinds of rotating teams:
The Girl with the Fuzzy Socks.
Which, let’s be honest, is just as cool as a dragon tattoo, if not cooler. Now, to say that I wear this as a badge of honor is definitely an understatement. If you have yet to recognize that I am all about comfort, I point you to my pants tirade on my post about Why I Hate Going to the Movies.
If you haven’t read it and you’ve never really thought about the oppression created by the institution that is pants, I hope that I have now opened your eyes to this problem and that you understand the gravity of the situation. If you haven’t read it yet still immediately understand why the thought of wearing pants would exhaust and enrage someone, stick around. I like you.
I’m also now considering coining the hashtag #pantstirade. Thoughts?
Regardless of your feelings on wearing pants, I think that we can all agree that fuzzy socks are the best. When you wear them, it’s like you left your feet at home in bed, even if the rest of you has to be out in the world. They make everything just a little bit more cozy. Even wearing them in your boots in the winter, just makes your feet feel like they’re being enveloped in a big, sweaty hug.
They’re the only way to wear pajamas all the time without sending the world the message that you’ve given up.
I distinctly remember the moment that I decided to start bringing fuzzy socks into the office. It was my first week, and I had kicked my shoes off under my desk while I was working. My manager came over to show me around the office.
“One second, I have to put my shoes back on.”
“Why?” He asked.
Not considering the fact that he was possibly being sarcastic or just asking me why I had taken my shoes off in the first place, I was suddenly transported to a whole new world. My mind was opened to dazzling place where one didn’t need to wear shoes. Comfort could be achieved even in the confines of an office desk. But obviously, I couldn’t walk around the office barefoot, so what could I use instead? You guessed it. I started bringing fuzzy socks into the office, and now, three years later, I can’t go back to where I used to be.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t such an earth-shattering shift, but you’d be surprised — even the tiniest bit of physical comfort can really make you feel more at home when you’re at work! Why just bring in a potted plant or some family photos when you can literally wear your pajamas in the office?!
And after that, I just started bringing my fuzzy socks everywhere! I’m always kicking off my shoes before a flight and putting on the fuzzy socks. Flying is uncomfortable enough, why not wrap your feet up in little, sock-shaped blankets? Even if the Dramamine doesn’t kick in for the entirety of that 7-hour flight, and the child behind you is kicking the back of your seat and screaming, at the very least, your tootsies are warm and snuggly.
I walked into my first therapy session with a pair of fuzzy socks in hand. I leave them there in my therapist’s drawer so I can put them on and get comfy whenever I have a session. After all, nothing says “let me tell you about my issues” than special therapy socks!
It’s gotten to the point where my coworkers actually take notice when I’m not wearing my socks. Sometimes they even harass me for it! If I’m walking around the office in shoes, someone is bound to notice, and you know that I hate to cause a scene (ha).
Needless to say, my line before every meeting is: “Do I have to put shoes on for this meeting?” and you know that if it’s not met with a resounding “yes” coupled with a glare, I am not going out of my way to allow social convention to oppress my feet and my comfort. I’m doing this for the good of the people, really.
Having them in my desk has even saved me when I sliced my toe open by pulling a heavy metal door open on top of it. Sure, maybe I shouldn’t open doors with so much force and frustration (forcetration?) that I literally cause myself bodily harm and bleed all over the lobby, but since that is a thing that happened, I couldn’t put my shoes on for the rest of the day. What was there for me, like always? Like mittens for your feet? Like a best friend that’s always ready to cuddle? Like…a soft sock that’s just really extra fuzzy?
They legitimately just make any situation better.
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