This means I have to dress up.
My friend and coworker told me "This means no shorts or jeans." Then she laughed.
Ha ha.
What she doesn't understand is that I HATE wearing tight, stiff clothing. Being fat (yeah...I said it...FAT) and male means I not only have a large, flobby midsection but also ONE CHOICE as to what I may wear. Pants and a shirt tucked into said pants. Sucking in all that extra body fat so that you can sardine yourself into nasty polyester pants which feel as flowy as a plastic sock (pleated for extra roominess my ASS), and compromising your internal organs every time you so much as move GOD FORBID sit down DOES NOT SOUND LIKE A FUN WAY TO SPEND A MONDAY MORNING.
But this is work. Nobody ever said it was supposed to be fun.
So I must sausage case myself tomorrow morning. No excuses. The pants are in the closet pressed and the shirt is alongside them. You have no idea how much I am dreading this.
All I can say is they'd better have french toast.
Do you think they'd freak if I showed up in a toga?
3 comments:
There should serve french toast next year. Ooh and belgian waffles.
There should serve french toast next year. Ooh and belgian waffles.
Ferrata, I agree completely. We should have put that on the comment papers!!
Rocks, I will shop for woollen pants as soon as the weather doesn't roast my insides. Good idea!
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