Today has been a tough day. Not really sure why. But perhaps the two below stories can shed some light.
- The Gym
I made it to the gym today. Victory! I even managed not to get a ticket on my car because the credit card payment machine was actually working. For those of you not in DC, you may not immediately understand that this is nothing short of a fucking miracle.
Anyway, so my new gym routine requires me to shower at the gym. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. But I am reminded daily that, perhaps, I’m more prudish than I thought. Because, unlike me, many of these ladies – of all different shapes and sizes – just walk around the locker room sans clothes.
Just the other day, I had an entire conversation with a woman who did not have a top on. Well, to be fair, she didn’t have a bottom on either. But she, at least, had the courtesy to have a towel around her lower half. The top part – not so much.
Turns out, I am a little uncomfortable talking to a woman without a top on. I mean, it was fine. I dazzled her with my wit and intellect, to be sure. But I would be lying if I said I was totally comfortable.
But let me get back on track.
So I have to pull together work clothes before I leave the house. And, once I leave the house, I’m sorta stuck with whatever I put together. Because AM has regaled me with tales of wrinkles and popping buttons, I am usually good about making sure that the clothes I pick for work actually, you know, work.
Not so much today. Nope. Today, in my early morning frenzy to make it to the gym AND be on time for a 9am meeting (who the fuck schedules a 9am meeting… on a Friday, no less?!), I clearly did not give my work attire the thought and consideration it deserves. Because what I ended up with was this:
– A light gray and off-white striped thin sweater.
– Navy blue pants. (Which is not an easy thing for me. Navy blue is like brown for me. I never know what goes with it or what shoes to wear. Now that I get dressed at the gym, HC’s not there to talk me through a disaster. This is why the other day I was profoundly brown. A brown suit and the same color brown shoes. But for my white shirt, you wouldn’t know where the jacket started and the shoes ended.)
– Light gray Puma kicks.
– A black bra.
Perhaps you’re already seeing the problems. Because there were many.
First, the sweater is a light color and thin. Put another way, it’s sorta see through. So this black bra is out there for the whole world to see.
Second, the gray Pumas are the EXACT SAME COLOR as the gray in the sweater. So it looks like I intentionally tried to match my sneakers to my sweater. Which, I will have you know, is something I DO NOT do. Ever. I take my sneakers – like my t-shirts – very seriously. I wouldn’t try to be all matchy-matchy. That’s just weird.
Third – and this really was the worst part of it: all put together – the striped sweater, the navy pants, the gray pumas – I looked like a sailor. Now, I love a sailor; I support the troops and all. But seriously, I looked like I was headed for Nantucket, or something equally snooty, getting ready to get on a schooner or some other nautical thing. I couldn’t believe it. I looked at myself in the mirror and didn’t know what to do. I just needed a little Popeye hat and saying “Ahoy, Matey” really would be necessary.
When I got to the office – after 9am and I still had to get myself to the meeting, which was happening in another office – I took off the sneakers and went with black shoes instead. Somehow, the gray-blue-black situation seemed better than the gray-blue-gray situation. Just seemed less boat-hand to me. Nothing to do about the breasts tho. They were out.
Which brings me to…
- My Breast
Earlier today, I went to a health care reform briefing. I knew about it for a while and was really looking forward to it. Look, I don’t go to many briefings, but every once in a while one comes up that you just don’t want to miss. This briefing was one of those. It was an interesting topic with an interesting panel and I couldn’t wait.
So I get there and the room is packed, because, as I said, it promised to be a good briefing. I didn’t think a seat was possible and tried to come to terms with the fact that I was going to have to stand for the next hour and a half. Then someone told me that there were seats on the other side of the room. Normally, I would just stand in this instance. But my back has been a real issue these days, so I thought sitting was a good idea.
So I walked in front of the panel – which had already started speaking because, you know, I was late, because, you know, I couldn’t find my stupid ID for this ID-required briefing – and headed to where I was told the seats were. I don’t know if they were expecting children to attend this briefing, but the seats were crazy close to each other. Like touching each other. And the space between one row of seats and the next was so close as to be ridiculous. Oh, and g-d forbid someone should actually allow you to walk through!
Whatever. I won’t be deterred. I’m staying and I know I need a seat.
So I start walking in the row. I had to bypass six people to get to the open seat. I started out okay, but the damn shoes I had on were a little slippery (I just had to go and take off those Pumas, didn’t I?!) and I slipped a little, causing my right breast to bump into a the head of a woman in the row in front of the row I was walking in.
Well, things haven’t much improved since then. But it’s Friday and it’s almost quitting time. Maybe the weekend will be better. Maybe…