I couldn’t help but notice your hole…

The offending hole...looks smaller here than IRL

When I first graduated from University and got my first job (not counting the cat dungeon I had a short stint of getting paid to email friends  employment at a “film company” overrun by cats), I was thrilled to be able to dress up for work. I went shopping with my partner and moaned as she forced me to try things on. But I was secretly happy about wearing pants that weren’t jeans and shirts that needed ironing.

What was I thinking?!

Fast forward a few years and now I’m working at a not-for-profit and most days, I think my coworkers should consider themselves lucky that I don’t just roll out of bed and show up to work in my jammies. But even I have standards, folks. I usually wear clothing without stains, that is less than 10 years old and (generally) presentable. But not today. As I do every Wednesday, I woke up thinking today was Friday. Upon my discovery that I was wrong once again, I lurched out of bed, showered groggily and threw on the closest pair of pants I could find.

If the chilly draft I’d felt and the leers from old men on the subway weren’t enough, it was the once-over and “hairs on the back of your nape standing up” glare from the President of the organization that clued me into the fact that my jeans, in fact, had a giant, gaping hole in the thigh. And not 5 minutes later, my boss approached me. In an unusually congenial mood she quipped, “Nice jeans!”. Naïve me thought – for a brief split second – that she was referring to my genes. Friends,  I was almost flattered! And then I remembered, my jeans had a hole the size of the giant sinkhole in Guatemala on them.

The best part about wearing these jeans, though, was the comment I got from a male coworker at a staff party today. “I couldn’t help but notice your hole,” he stated rather loudly. Upon hearing this, one of my coworkers – who hadn’t yet had the horror of seeing my shockingly white thigh showing itself – whipped her head around faster than that little girl in “The Exorcist” and looked like a deer caught in headlights. It was priceless –she thought he was hitting on me.

I won’t ever wear these jeans to work again. Unless they’re the closest pair of pants within my reach next Friday  Wednesday.

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How not to start your Monday mornings….

 ….don’t zip around your apartment thinking you’re on time for once and gloat inwardly. Why? Because then this will happen:

You’ll begin to bike down the street, hit a bump and your travel coffee mug will proceed to fly out of your hands. After it takes its first (and last) flight, it slams into the concrete sidewalk, shatters and spills your beloved liquid gold (brown?) all over said sidewalk.
While you’re still recovering from the loss of the nectar of the gods for your subway ride into hell (otherwise known as “work), you’ll bend over to pick up the remaining shards of plastic of your travel mug, only for your 5th (and thus very precious) iPhone to fall out of your pocket, falling onto the same cursed concrete and shattering the glass in a corner.
With no time to weep loudly like you want to, you’ll pick up your phone, leave the pieces of your belongings behind on the devil’s walkway, shove your battered phone back into your pocket, and then almost get hit by a big delivery truck not paying attention to the road.
So, yup. It’s Monday morning here in Chancy-land, and I couldn’t be more miserable.

Desk decor

Working for a not-for-profit doesn’t bring you many “perks” in the way of financial bonuses, free food or pay. But when said not-for-profit holds a fundraiser and can’t give things away as prizes – because no one will take it – the employees reap the benefits.

Check out my new desk decor. It’s so classy it hurts. Literally, if you fall on top of it. My co-worker says that people are going to stop approaching me to ask me for things, because this thing is going to scare them off. If that happens, mission accomplished.

Desk decor

Question: is this an elk or an antelope or some weird amalgamation of the two?

Question #2: What should I name it?