I probably won’t end up naked, though.

I’m certainly not the first to observe this, but going to a job interview is like going on a first date.

Like, “This, right here? The smooth, curled hair and the makeup and the dress and the tights? Yeah, I will NEVER look like this when shit gets real.”

I should be able to interview in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, with wet-from-the-shower hair tossed up in a half-ass ponytail, wearing sunscreen and Chapstick as makeup. That is how I will look if I work for/date you.*

It’s like Chris Rock said: “You can’t get nobody looking like you look, acting like you act, sounding like you sound. When you meet somebody for the first time, you’re not meeting THEM — you’re meeting their representative!”

“Against Kerry Washington, you will lose.”

I read Self magazine because I applaud the bold, innovative way they’ve cleverly shortened the title from Self-Loathing.

But also, the latest cover model is Kerry Washington, who is my personal Jesus. And in the interview, she says she begins her day by drinking a liter of water with lemon and doing pilates. (Or, after a liter of water, pee-lates, I can only assume.)

Today I was thinking about how I started my morning:

“Well, Self, I swore out loud at the alarm clock and hit ‘snooze’ 86 times. I hoisted myself out of bed angrily and fumbled around naked looking for an outfit, anything that fits because I’m never sure anymore. And then I shoved Lexapro and two types of OTC drugs into my sinus-infection-addled face with a Dixie cup of tap water from the bathroom sink, followed by an enormous vat of coffee, and now I am finally, but still barely, able to face humanity.”

This is why they don’t let me talk to the media. And why Kerry Washington never returns my calls.