He Said It

So I'm sitting in a conference room, facing a video camera ... again.

(We conduct a lot of meetings this way, since we have people working in several locations. As much as I hate it, it's better/more productive than an old fashioned conference call. When the video camera is on, you can be sure that no one is making faces when you talk or flipping you off. Most people probably don't worry about that sort of thing, but I do. Mostly because I often say things on conference calls that would invoke a couple of rolling eyeballs or one-finger salute.)

The old me would have tried to be as far away from the camera as possible. The farther away = the smaller you look or something like that. But the new me doesn't really think about it too much.

The meeting hasn't officially started and we're sort of chitchatting waiting for the last person to walk in.

He does. He sees me. And then he says,

"Hey. There you are. You look like the old Daisy."

What?

What does THAT mean? Yes, I'm close. I have no idea if the screen on the other end shows me in some distorted way. Hell, I don't even know if he was referring to my weight. Maybe he meant, "Oh, she's smiling. That reminds me of the old Daisy who used to smile before this place got so stressful and irritating."

But he said it. And I heard what I heard. And I am sure he was referring to my weight and thinks I am getting bigger.

And then I realize this:

It doesn't matter what he thinks or what he meant.

Boy, that's a hard habit to break.