RIP suits, dresses and pantyhose unless I have a hot date
Today was one of those “Because I Can, Damn it” days. I went to the beach before work AND afterward.
I can also brag that I took a coffee break today. I could have taken a lunch. …
(Dear former colleagues: a LUNCH is something you take MIDDAY in which you get food AND EAT IT WHILE IT’S FRESH and you DON’T have to be working while you consume it. And you don’t have to snarf it in at warp speed. IMAGINE!)
So there are these huge Adirondack chairs outside the office on the avenue. Eight of them, painted brightly and looking worn from the salt air (as we are six blocks from the beach and all). So in lieu of a lunch break (as I had leftovers from yesterday — salmon panini NOM NOM NOM), I made a cup of coffee and parked my butt in a chair and just watched the people go by.
Amazing — feeling refreshed before, during AND after work! This lifestyle is doing wonders for my well-being. Now if I could just cure this damn thyroid issue so I can start sleeping through the night again. …
It was so lovely today to wear jeans! and sandals! to work today. I can wear them ANY day. No more three-piece suits, five times a week. No more having to kiss the fucking ground of your elders because they let you go sans pantyhose and ties on Fridays. No more thanking your higher power when they finally let you wear jeans on Fridays.
Better yet, yay nobody running after you and PINCHING YOUR CALVES to ensure that those are, in fact, nude pantyhose and not just you “trying to get away with” not wearing any at all. *pointed look*
I hear some folks are still pissed that I fled the coop. Not even pissed at me, mind you, for fleeing it. *eyeroll* I would think they have bigger things to worry about. (Read: They DO.) But my only mission in life is to find my own happiness — this stay on the planet is too short to give a second thought to anything else. Life ain’t perfect (roommate *cough cough*) and I may just commit suicide that people are still contacting her from D.C. to offer her a place to stay. But if I can just overcome THAT trauma in one way or another, it’s going to be less of an uphill battle than full steam ahead. And I’m ready to roll. …
April 1st, 2009 at 8:31 PM
Someone would walk around trying to PINCH YOUR LEGS to see whether you were wearing pantyhose?
There are no words. Well, a few. Like, “HELLO, LAWSUIT.”