The tiny spots of beet juice washed out of my white fleece sweatshirt. I like it well and I've worn it about to death (and to work too, because the princess cut, mock turtleneck, 3/4 zip style isn't totally sweatshirty). (Also, my workplace is very casual.) I'm sure if my co-workers ever saw me, they'd be tired of seeing me in it.
The sweatshirt is on its last legs anyway, so I went and ordered a bunch of more grown-up looking sweaters yesterday evening. No one will recognize me in something other than the same three things I've been wearing all winter, right? I'll have to think of something stealthy to do.
Hmm. Still thinking.
What I'd like to do is discover the secret of the puppy room in the daycare center in my building, but I suspect I could just go in and ask, "What is the puppy room?" and there's nothing particularly stealthy about that.
Where's the puppy room for the office workers? That's what I'd like to know. We could all use some puppy time.
178 words | January 26, 2010 10:02 PM | Working for The Man