It was the first really nice day of the season. Seventy degrees, perfect shorts weather. In an effort to heal a jean inflicted abrasion across my belly, I've been donning sweatpants lately, and I was happy at the possibility of wearing something that resembled more of a casual outfit to work, rather than the completely given up on life look I've had for the last 3 weeks.
I gave myself enough time to shave my legs, an all important detail when sporting the first shorts of the season. When subjecting my coworkers with the neon whiteness of my winter legs, it's important to not add to their trauma. I found my most comfy jean shorts. They felt a bit off, but that was to be expected, right? I mean they'd been in the back of the closet for 6 months now.
The sunshine was slow to come, but once it broke through the clouds it distracted me enough to make several delivery mistakes. Round and round I went delivering missed packages, picking up hold mail I'd accidently delivered, forgetting newspapers that the same customers have gotten twice a week for the last 4 years. It was embarrassing really, I am better than this. If someone had pulled my GPS tracked line of travel it would have looked like a schizophrenic squirrel was driving.
Somewhere between looping around and the detailed family feud of one customer about her dead mother's estate, I noticed a weird breeze and chafing feeling. Upon further nonchalant inspection, I discovered a large rip, leaving the upper backside of my thigh exposed for all the world to see. There was a choice to be made. Have the Hubs run me pants, or pretend it's the style and carry on.
I carried on.
Determined not to derail the plans for the other half of the day, once back at the office, I headed to the bathroom, duct tape in hand, and fixed the problem from the inside out. Sadly, this is not the first time I've done this. I finished up, headed out, and onto Walmart to pick up some paint for a new project I'm working on. And that's when I felt it. The side of the duct tape had started to roll. It was sticking to the inside of my leg, dangerously close to areas unshaved. What to do? I'm in the parking lot, walking slowly towards the door, trying to casually unstick my leg from my shorts without it looking like I'm picking a front wedgie. Standing in line at customer service I must have looked pained, making tiny steps shifting my hips and butt in an attempt to unstick myself. I was getting weird looks from the other customers.
Shorts stuck to me, dangerously close to giving myself an unwanted wax, legs as white as beacons in the storm, visibly uncomfortable and mentally exhausted, I was a person of Walmart now.
No going back.
So how is your weekend going?