Wardrobe Malfunction

This month I set a little challenge for myself: I want to run one mile every day for 30 days.  I'm currently on Day 6, still on track. This might be a dubious goal, however.  It only takes 10 minutes to run a mile.  It takes me longer in general to change into my gym clothes.  10 minutes of exercise is not really a thing anyway.  I will proudly boast to the doctor the next time I get a physical, "Well, I always get in my daily 10 minutes of cardio." I need to bump this up to 2 miles to get anything out of it probably, but as it stands, I like my little goal because it's easily achievable.  So this morning before work, I finished my mile at the Clarendon gym and I looked in my bag to grab my work clothes after I took a shower.  I pulled out the shirt, the shoes and then a sickening realization washed over me.  The pants.  Dear God, where are the pants?  No pants!!! I stood frozen, contemplating my next move.  How could I forget this?  I saw only two options:
  1. Ride the metro back home, get the pants and ride back to work for a round trip of 1.5 to 2 hours.  And call my boss and explain why I was late to work because I forgot my pants.  
  2. Make do with the swishy gym pants.  Just go with it and pray no one notices until the shops open at 10 a.m. and you can buy another pair of pants.
Dear reader, what would you do when faced with such an impossible choice?  I texted Joe frantically and tried to call my mom for advice.  Joe wrote back,"O.M.G.  That is one of the reasons I always fail to work out before work.  I'm terrified I'd forget socks.  But pants is worse."

Much worse!

Daredevil that I am, I went with option 2, the nice sweater combined with gym pants and sneakers.  I decided the heels would make the whole thing even more ridiculous.  I darted off the elevator to my desk, pants swish swish swishing as I went.

No meetings on the Outlook calendar, phew.  I pushed my chair up as close to the desk as possible, but I thought maybe I should tell my immediate coworkers just to cut the awkwardness off at the pass.  "Peter, I don't have any pants!" I exclaimed.

Wait.  That came out all wrong.

Luckily, the stars aligned and I stayed in my chair till 9:55 a.m., then snuck out to Ann Taylor Loft and was the first person inside when they opened the doors.  I flagged down the salesperson for help.  Here was a guaranteed sale for her.

I tried on one pair of plain black pants from the sale rack and bought them, wearing them out of the store.  And here's where my luck turned around.  Guess how much they were?


Yes, really.  That fact redeemed my day entirely.  Good ol' Ann Taylor Loft!  Can I be featured in a commercial to tell my dramatic and uplifting tale?

Novelty Keychain

At work, we have to carry our keys around in order to get into the bathrooms in the hall and back into the office. Last Friday afternoon, I was sitting at my desk when I heard our secretary say over the loudspeaker:

"Attention, staff. Lost keys have been found in the kitchen."

I immediately realized that the keys were mine. But the loudspeaker announcement kept going.

"The keys have a keychain that reads - If you don't..."

Time stopped. "Oh, no," I thought. "She wouldn't."

But she did! The secretary proceeded to read the rest of my novelty keychain OVER THE LOUDSPEAKER TO THE ENTIRE OFFICE.

I ran to the front desk to try to make her stop, but it was too late. Why do I even keep that thing on there?

Like a Neon Flag to a Bull

I was asked for happy hour recommendations for downtown and I immediately thought of an answer - Ceiba. It's not because I like the drinks and food, though that is excellent. It's because I am utterly taken with the plastic neon bulls that come with each cocktail.

You already saw the ones I had on my desk at work.

They needed to have more friends so I begged everyone at my table to please give me their bulls.

I even got the rarest species, the blue one. Possibly endangered.

Look at them ganging up on the poor blue one.

Three margaritas later, I dumped the lot of them in my purse.

And there they stayed for awhile.

But I kept finding strays everywhere.

Here's one on the steps outside my apartment. I was like Hansel and Gretel, leaving a trail of neon plastic bulls in my wake.

Finally they made it to my desk.

Although I have quite the collection of cocktail toppers, I want to make it clear to you, coworkers, I do not a drinking problem.

I will admit that they might be a distraction during boring conference calls.

Fist Bump

I would say a fist is one of the lesser photocopied body parts. But my coworker Amy chose to do just that:

Here is her goodbye gift to a fellow in our office who is partial to fist bumps as greetings. Even though Amy is moving to NYC this week, her knuckles will stay in D.C. for all eternity.

We'll take what we can get. Not only is Amy super creative, she's the one of the few people in the world who would go see the Joan Rivers documentary in the theatre with me. That's saying a lot.

Hyper realistic wax Joan Rivers mannequin on display at the theatre by the concession stand, borrowed from Madame Tussauds next door. Or perhaps it actually was Joan herself.