cuppa joe joe, get a go go

I am not a fan of Mondays. Today started out to be a particularly unpleasant Monday...












woke up, day two of my period. -

had some coffee +

drove to work in the messiest car ever, the volvo of shame -

had to sit through a two hour office meeting -

bought doughnuts for the office minions +

ate two of said doughnuts -

and on and on it went.



In the middle of the day I went upstairs into my lair, otherwise known as the B breakroom, and did a little daydreaming. One of the items up for discussion at our well-intentioned office meeting was the idea of having everyone wear uniforms. Now, I am not against uniforms in general, or on principle. My father wore a military uniform for 20 years and it suited us just fine. I do object, though, to having to wear a prescribed "blouse" and particular color skirt/pair of pants as a front office staffer. The techies? fine. The practitioners? makes sense. But this body is not meant to be swathed in a beige or peach or light blue or mint green short sleeved sateen button down front collared monstrosity! So to protest quietly amongst myself I had a little "conversation" with my boss in which I told him in no uncertain terms I would not be wearing a uniform. That those shirts would look heinous on me. I told him, boss man, I can't wear a uniform. Part of the reason I went back to work was to dress nice! To wear some semblance of the fashion of the week or month or season. If I wanted to wear a uniform I could have stayed at home and worn a f***ing tee shirt and jeans!

I see my polyester imprisonment upon me, and I shiver.