Whenever I suggest working solo, a mysterious voice echoes from somewhere, demanding I show my face. By this, they mean dragging myself into the office as if my productivity is directly tied to my physical presence.
Meanwhile, here I am at home, putting in just as much work—probably more. Long hours, fewer breaks, and a commute that involves exactly three steps from my bed to my desk. And for heaven’s sake, I don’t want to show my face!
Have you ever considered a pre-menopausal face? I’ll surely paint you a picture of the one they seem eager to see. It’s a face shaped by days and nights of unexplained stress, sleep that gets interrupted like a deep dive into chaos with no life anchor, and sudden temperature hikes that make you wonder if your internal thermostat has a grudge against you.
The eyes? I squint, partly from exhaustion, partly because I’ve developed a new intolerance for nonsense. The eyebrows? Always on the move—sometimes raised, sometimes furrowed, but consistently delivering that classic, “REALLY? THIS TOO?” expression. And let’s talk about that glow—oh yes, I’m glowing all right. But it’s not from some fancy skincare routine; it’s the result of a hot flash that sneaks up like an uninvited guest crashing the party.
And the smile? Oh, it’s there, but it’s tempered with a blend of hard-won wisdom, relentless resilience, and a touch of “I’m done with your BS.” It’s the kind of smile that can entertain but, with a single glare, silence a room. My face has a powerful look, a “don’t even think about it” vibe that makes people step lightly.
And let’s not forget the facial muscles—oh, they’re tired. They’re aching from the whiplash of trying to keep up with my mood swings. Poor things can’t decide whether to frown, smile, or raise an eyebrow—they’re practically schizophrenic.
So, sorry, love, but I’d instead work from home with my cats and my blessedly empty rooms. Here, I can’t offend anyone with my face—or at least no one but the occasional delivery guy. So, if anyone needs me, I’ll be in my fortress of solitude. Buzz off.
Dana Obeid
