If I hadn't had my forearms de-haired, those puppies would be standing on end right now. FINALLY I'm chilled.
Almost goose-pimply.
I'm wearing the very minimum amount of clothes a woman of my size should be seen in at the office. That includes bare feet inside my clunky leather-like boots (Oh yeah, the smell is as bad as you're imagining), a short sleeve cotton t-shirt, thin cotton Gap-knockoffs pants from Costco, and the necessary undergarments.
I'm a friggin lava rock sitting there in my tiny office under a heating vent that blows hot air on me for 6 solid hours.
My make-up melts off my face before I take my morning coffee/tea break.
But I'm home now. Kids are in bed. I've opened the sliding door and am welcoming the night air in with open bare hairless arms.
Wonder if I should sleep down here tonight, on the tile floor next to the patio?
If I'm going through my "change" (and I don't think I am) then life has become one long hot flash.
It's not very comfortable in case you were wondering.
Take care,
Oh, by the way, if you're looking for something to do this weekend, my niece is the stage manager of the local Christian school's drama production. Check it out.
Seargent Major Mandi - I'm proud of you. You did an awesome job. Love ya.
1 comment:
No it's not "THE CHANGE" yet. Trust me. It's just those skinny litte butts at work, that freeze at any brisk breeze that mosey's along. I too sit under a heating vent (where Andrea used to sit). For the past six years (sshhh -- I work at Trinity)have had to wear summer clothing, season in, season out, breathable cotton.
I love the skinny butts next to me, but the security at the Pentagon has nothing on the "security" around our thermostat -- it's a yellow sticky note saying "Do not touch," with a smiley face, of course.
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