This is Sparta, Bitches!

I’ve been considering changing my name to Antigone because I’ve been feeling like my life is like a goddamn Greek tragedy lately. Still no job, my savings account has been summarily wiped out, ticket, last month’s weight loss has been pretty slow, I may never move back out of my parent’s house, and to top it off I’ve been breaking out in what I can only describe as hives since, like, May. I take a little swig of Children’s Benadryl almost every day just to keep from scratching off my own skin. I no longer have health insurance, me being that of the unemployed, so I can’t really go get it figured out without spending more money I don’t have. Et tu, Brute? Et tu?

The first time I watched “300” I was distracted because I was hold up in my room, in the dark, with the volume turned down to almost nothing, hiding from my psycho roommate (and I may or may not have been distracted by all the abs). My crush on Gerard Butler (he’s since been deemed Matthew’s replacement and is now the desktop image on my computer) was not fully developed at this point and I wasn’t even aware that he was the King of the Abs, er, Spartans.

With nothing else really on tonight, and me actually having control over the remote for a change, I watched it again. Those Spartans, boy, they had nuts the size of small children. You know a guy is testicularly gifted when he is huddled under his shield, giggling like a school boy, while millions of razor sharp arrows are plummeting to the earth around them. Not a lot of people would find that sort of thing funny, but a Spartan? Nothing is funnier than possible death by decapitation.

After watching it this time I felt like I, too, was a Spartan warrior (albeit a softer, gentler, more estrogen filled version). I will make Xerxes my bitch. Xerxes, in this case, being my job status, my financial status, and my fat ass status. I took my butt to the computer and emailed an activewear company that is based in Portland and hiring for a girl of my qualifications. I had wanted to email them earlier, but felt that would be a very awkward interview for a big girl, what with it being ACTIVEwear and all. Well, I’m a Spartan now. I kicked them in the chest and sent them spiraling down into a dark cavernous well.

“Good evening,

Attached, you will find my professional cover letter and resume. Here, you will find a little more. My job search has been bleak and I’m feeling the need to step it up. The things that I feel compelled to say in this submittal will most certainly set me apart (whether in a good way or a bad way I’ve yet to determine). The unemployment office would surely give me a solid swat on the back of my hands for even thinking about typing this, but here I am...typing.

I am a woman that has never shopped at Lucy. Don’t get me wrong, I love your store. I’ve been in there often. I walk in with my sister or my friends and my tactile nature has me touching everything. I put together outfits for them and point out what I think is super cute, and yet, I buy nothing. You see, I don’t fit into anything you have. I am a plus-sized woman and I aspire to wear your clothes. I have picked things out that I tell myself I will one day wear and have almost gotten to the check out line. I stop myself just in time and I leave. I step outside to wait aching for the day that Lucy and I will be BFF’s (I know, I can’t believe I just said BFF either).

The fact of the matter is, I’m losing weight. I’m even writing a book about the experience. All of my dates with Gym have me longing to spend time with Lucy even more as the baggy t-shirts just aren’t cutting it. When I picture my future self doing yoga, Pilates, hiking, and the like I see me doing it with Lucy. When I saw your posting for Office Administrative Assistant I told myself that if I can’t wear her yet...I’ll work for her. So, here I am, writing a completely inappropriate letter for employment in hopes that my humor, chutzpah, and secret crush will somehow work in my favor. If not, please disregard and see attached.

Best,

Kelly Anderson”

They'll either think I'm completely crazy and delete it or they'll think that I also have balls the size of small children and they'll call me in for an interview despite my girth. Either way, I'll get noticed. No retreat, no surrender; that is Spartan law!

Note: If the job for Spartan Queen is open and it entails diddling Gerard Butler, I have an updated resume and references available upon request.