Be perfect or just be myself...

Our hair is a part of our body that most people either don’t bother with or take really good care of. It is supposed to be part of our outside presentation and how we want other people to see us. I am one of the first types of people. I don’t really bother with my hair normally. I would put them either in a bun or a high ponytail accentuating my long neck in the process. I say normally because today I have to have perfect hair, a perfect dress and definitely a perfect posture. I am supposed to have my first ever job interview. 

After I finished university last year, I never thought that the biggest advertising agency would offer me a chance for an interview. I had tried over the school years to apply for an internship there but the applications were very restricted and between me and you, I think you had to be someone’s kid to even get a chance to be heard. 

Back to us now. I stood up from my bed, still in my silk nightgown thinking that I looked good enough to pull all this. What I didn’t know is that my hair was like a bird’s nest this morning. Being the lazy person I am, I had a shower last night and didn’t bother drying my hair properly. In addition to that, having had the shower last night, I didn’t calculate the time to wash my hair in the morning so I had no time. 

Idea! I will pull my hair in a tight bun and it will be perfect. And so I did. I pulled my hair in a tight bun, struggling to even comb it properly. I did my makeup and put the perfect professional dress on. I was finally ready and happy with myself. I felt confident and I was going to win this job even if this is the last thing I do in my life.

I went down in the kitchen from which I was smelling freshly baked muffins. I love my mum. I would always find something nice ready from her in the morning. As I entered the kitchen my heart stopped. Grandma was here. Yes, I still live with my family. That’s why I need this job so desperately. I need to have my own apartment. I would live with my mum forever, but I couldn’t stand grandma’s remarks about my appearance and what I do with my life. I really don’t know how she managed her whole life with her.

“Hey, grandma. You’re here… again” I said mumbling the last part. 

“Yes, my dear. How are you feeling? You don’t look very good this morning,” she said and my heart sank, again. Could this woman be blunter than this?

“Yes, grandma. I feel very good, thank you,”

“But… your hair love,”

“My hair what, grandma?”

“Well… look at that. And are you planning to have your hair in a boring bun for your job interview?” Dang. I told mum not to tell her anything. And what does she mean by ‘Look at that’? I checked myself on my phone’s display and she was sort of right. It still looked bad. My curls still were not perfect even in a tight bun. And she was right about the boring comment as well. 

I rushed upstairs to try to fix it again. But, what could I ever do in only 20 minutes left before I had to drive to their office? I untied my hair, releasing my long curls. The nest was even worse now because I had used some product while trying to fix them in a bun. It was plain at the top and curly on the bottom. Arrrrghhh… I hate my hair. Normally, I don’t care about my hair but today I have to fix it properly.

I take off my dress and put my head in the sink. I decide to wash my hair quickly. It will revive them and hopefully will be better than what I have now. I tried to be careful with my make up because I didn’t have any more time to redo it. Emphasis to ‘tried’ because putting your head in the sink, you normally have to bend and between the acrobatics of the position and action itself my face got wet, I got foam on one of my eyes, making it tear up and finally ruining my make up. Thanks, grandma. I would have gone in my oblivious state and had the job interview with my self imposed confidence. 

In my underwear, I went for the dryer and dried my hair trying to make my curls look better. It was not my best hair day but it’ll do. Now I had to redo my makeup. I rushed it and between eyeliner that went in my eye and the mascara stains I was a total mess. Mum was calling me downstairs to notify me that it was already late and I had to leave because I would find traffic at this time of the day.

I fixed what I could and put my dress back on. I rushed to my car, yelling to mum and grandma my goodbye. I didn’t want grandma to see me again. She would definitely find something to make me feel worse and I didn’t want that. All I needed now was to drive to the company and have my damn interview, win this job and get the hell out of that house in my own privacy.

Mum was right. Rush hour had already started and I was stuck in traffic. I had everything planned out. I was going to wake up in the morning, get ready, have breakfast (which by the way I didn’t have thanks to grandma), drive to the company before the rush hour and wait for my time to come. Better early than late I thought at the time. Well, my new goal was to arrive on time and alive. I was already too stressed to ruin my only possibility of freedom.

I pulled at the company’s parking lot with 5 minutes to spare. Phew!! I rushed to the receptionist and introduced myself and the reason why I was here. She was polite, at least, but the look she gave me was one of pity and I could sense a bit of amusement in her eyes. She was amused at my state. Well, Chloe, there are two ways this can go: you either lash out on this girl and get rid of all today’s frustrations or smile and let her enjoy my state and nervousness.

I decided for the later one and she smiled back.

“Breathe, love. We’ve all been there. You’re pretty when you smile. Just do that and enjoy the ride,” 

I was perplexed. It was like she read my mind and she knew what happened to me this morning. That was the best advice anyone could ever give me. When I said at the beginning that I didn’t really care about my hair normally, I said that because I always was one that would just enjoy the ride, without thinking about other people’s judgements. 

While she showed me to the office I was supposed to have my interview I took a deep breath and decided to just be me. If people here didn’t like what I looked like, or who I was then maybe this was not the place for me. 

Still thinking about this, I entered the office to meet the head of HR. Mr Willson was up and his back was facing the door, so he didn’t see me coming in but I saw him and what caught my eye was his large shoulders and the fine posture. Just before he faced me my eyes landed on a strand of hair that was out of place. That made me chuckle a bit muffling it with a light cough. I was not the only one who struggled with her hair this morning.

He heard me and turned to face me.

“Good morning, Ms Cooper. Have a seat, please,”

“Good morning, Mr Willson. Thank you.”

“How are you today, Ms Cooper?”

“Better now, Mr Willson. I had a bad hair day in the morning, but now that I see I was not the only one, that makes me feel better,” I said and let my chuckle out freely this time. What surprised me was that he joined me. Now I know that everything will go alright and it was just a day like many other ones. I just had to be myself and everything would be fine.