You know those mornings when you roll out of bed and stagger down the stairs and perhaps you watch a little too much of last night's episode of 16 and Pregnant with your daughter? Then you go upstairs and optimistically look in the mirror and say yeah, my hair looks ok - in fact, It looks fine! You quickly throw some clothes on and run out the door and head off to work. You look at yourself in the rearview mirror and tell yourself - the hair is ok. It'll do. Then you look down at the wide expanse of ahem hairy leg that shows over your short socks and realize in horror that you wore those short pants. The black pants you thought you donated because they were too short, and yet so big that you spend all your time trying to keep them pulled up AND pulled down at the same time. At least your black T-shirt is - OMG you grabbed the short black T-shirt too!!! Then the sun comes out and you look at your hair in the rearview again and hope TO GOD that no one comes into your office this morning because you really should have washed that filthy mess atop your head. You finally get to work and look down at your socks and reflect bitterly that you evidently do need to get to get stronger lights in your bedroom because those socks are blue and just looks so well with the rest of your black ensemble.
At least your black sweater looks nice.
So you make your way into work looking like an aged goth princess and hide in your office thinking that you just might make it thru the day without being seen and then it happens:
Your lovely, stylish boss says brightly "Let's go do lunch! We'll go in my new JAG!!"
It's a great lunch - pants legs stayed down, pants waist stayed up, T-shirt stayed down and even tho' the temperature outside has risen to about 85 degrees you think you can still keep the sweater on because so far it is the nicest thing you've got going on.
Then you step into Chicos for just a minute.
The clothes there are so gorgeous. The colors are so soft and cool. And dainty. And fresh.
So you are standing there, feeling like you are one pair of fingerless gloves away from being a sweaty biker chick. And then you realize that the purse that you borrowed from your daughter because you thought it would be "fun" has enough chains and rivets on it to outfit the rest of the biker gang. And you understand why the salesgirls are watching you just a little bit too closely.
And you desperately wish that - just this once - you could actually wake up and realize that this was just a bad dream.
But no, you are unbearably awake and at this point all you can do is go back to the office, wait until it is finally 5pm, then thankfully go home and burn your outfit!!!