I Tried to Live Like Hillary for One Glorious Day and Here's What Happened

6:04 AM: I am awakened, not by my usual alarm, but by a loud, urgent voice inside me that bellows, “WHITE HOUSE.” I sense this as an omen that HRC has blessed my quest to live her truth today.

6:17 AM: Brushing past my regular skinny jean and button-up fare, I reach for my Live Like Hillary wardrobe splurge, still in its garment bag. So this is what it feels like to have a Chico’s kind of day. Pleated and powerful, I adjust the shoulder pads on my cream pantsuit for maximum volume, affixing an American flag pin to each lapel that secretly compliment the star-spangled Spanx I wear underneath.

7:51 AM: Pull up to the office in my giant bus. Argh, parking is so limited at the agency where I work! I eventually find five spots together and make it into work on time, because that’s what Americans do: We. Get. To. Work.

8:00 AM: I cue up some entrance music on my iPhone (John Cougar Mellencamp's “Ain’t That America”) and slowly make my way through the corridor, stopping to engage in hyper-intentional eye contact with each coworker I see to make that totally casual personal connection, just like I practiced the night before in the mirror. A point toward Darryl in Accounting. A pantomimed, “I didn’t know you would be here!” wide-eyed wave for Diane. When Jeff the intern reaches his hand out to hit the pound, I toss my head back and laugh wildly for a full 15 seconds. “Oh, Jeff! I adore and participate in your youth!”

8:12 AM: I finally reach my desk, survey it all slowly, and just before taking a seat at my cubicle, announce, “Look at all these amazing faces. Wow! Yes!” People seem really engaged by this. One girl even says, “wowwwww” right back.

8:21 AM: I start the day by checking email. I remove all encryption and passwords from my accounts immediately and shoot off replies to clients and department heads from my personal Yahoo! mail account. Who has time for multi-layered security protocols? Not this busy lady!

8:24 AM: I get an email from IT announcing new corporate email policies requiring passwords and the use of the agency’s official email program. Oopsie! Oh well, lesson learned!

9:00 AM: Team meeting. Forcefully agreeing with each person at the table no matter what they say takes a lot of energy! Especially when Jeff suggests we brew kombucha instead of coffee in the employee lounge. Oh, Jeff! You and your crazy hot beverage disruption represent the future of our great nation!

9:43 AM: I’m pulled out of the meeting by a couple HR guys. Apparently, we just lost an account I manage somewhere in the Middle East (in fairness, I manage like 275 accounts). Some of the higher-ups went looking for a copy of all my official company emails to see what went wrong and realized I’ve been using my Yahoo! account. They demand that I turn over my Yahoo! emails. Am I nuts, or are we all camping out a little too long about these emails?

10:07 AM: I forward three random emails to make the whole email debacle go away and throw my computer out the 17th floor window. Back to work!

10:15 AM: Eager for a reset, I stride purposefully down to the maintenance closet and meet with the janitors. “You’re all the backbone of this country!” I boom forcefully. I stick around awhile and gather a few sad sack stories about sick nephews and laid-off husbands to share as anecdotes to really drive home a point.

10:24 AM: My husband stops by to make sure I’m settling in okay, which is awkward-- both because he used to run this company and because all the interns immediately stop making eye contact. Oh, Jeff. Not you, Jeff. I choke down my feelings to a place they won’t resurface from until at least 2024 and send him on his way with my most intimate side hug.

10:35 AM: I’m called into a disciplinary hearing with HR about the whole email fiasco. I’m starting to think some people here don’t like me. Which is weird, because I’m known for being such a natural people person!

9:14 PM: A mere 11 hours later, the hearing is over. I admit that I probably should have just used the company email and ask if we can all move on with our lives. To be honest, this really derailed my day of doing marketing campaigns for working class heroes like Daryl C., a construction worker who was recently laid off in Lima, Ohio. Or this baby I’m suddenly holding, because her mom had no paid maternity leave.

9:47 PM: As I’m heading back to the bus, one of the HR guys waves me down. They sneer, “We just found 15,000 more emails you didn’t tell us about. You left them in the copier. And we’re going to read them all one by one at the company picnic. You’re going down, lady.”

I smile the smile of 100 endless winters, turn, and say, “Oh, really? Too bad. If you fire me, you’ll have to go with the other finalist candidate for this role. I wonder what he’s like.”

I am nourished by their stony silence as I roll down the bus windows and blaze out of the parking lot, blaring “Seven Nation Army,” my pantsuit fluttering in the night air.

_________________________________________________________

Brooke Preston (@bigu) is a comedy writer and storyteller. Visit brookeprestoncomedy.com.