29 June 2006

Pantyhose

We have a stupid, ridiculous, archaic rule here where even if you wear sandals during the summer, you have to wear nylons.
1) Is this not the tackiest thing you've ever heard?
b) The material that "nylons" are made out of is absorbed into your skin as you sweat, and it is toxic. Nice.
3) They are bad for your circulation. This has been proven by studies.
d) Someone has an idea that they look more "professional." However, there is nothing professional about looking like a fashion moron. So many people from other companies ask our women "Why are you still wearing nylons?" Exactly. Exactly. Exactly.
@) Wearing them with sandals is slippery and dangerous. I have nearly broken my neck four times this summer, personally, and many times last summer.
Qwakisurpinique) The idea of spending the entire summer with my sweaty feet trapped in boring winter shoes in boring winter colors makes me want to DIE.
So, sometimes, I give in and wear the damn nylons. But today, like other days lately, I have been bucking the rule. And you know what's great. I have noticed that most other women in my office are bucking the rule as well. It makes me feel empowered. But it also makes me feel nervous to venture too far from my desk lest I be discovered in my rebellion.
I don't care.
I hate this rule more than anything.
Today we have insane printer problems. The printer keeps printing 300 copies of something it has already printed. And IT can't figure it out. So, the rest of us are even more lost. What to do, what to do?
My husband told me that as of this morning, our cat, Meowcifer (aka Jacque), has learned how to open the door from the porch to the outside world. Which he did--and then escaped. And in his place there came a bird into the porch. And the bird, upon seeing my husband, thought that the best place to get away (even thought the door was wide open to the wide, free world) was to hide underneath the cabinet in which is housed our cat box. The very one. So, Billy tried to corral the bird out with a long stick. Thus began an almost interminable limbo game between Billy and The Stick and Bird.
Upon finally exhuming the bird, Billy went on a bike ride to find in the cat. Molly, the stupid dog, thought it was a perfect time to use her abilities to escape the fence to track my husband on his bike. So, while Billy was out searching for the cat, Molly was getting lost trying to find Billy. Billy finally found the cat on our neighbors sidewalk. Molly finally, finally came back later.
Stupid animals.
It is a stupid day and a stupid week with stupid people and stupid situations and lots of frustration and I HATE EVERYONE (except you, my dear readers).

1 Comments:

Blogger Heather said...

Erin, you do realize that you just invented a new word, don't you?
I love it, too.

Qwakisurpinique

It has to be some sort of combo of French, Swahili, and some African tribal language that has yet to be discovered. I love it! I'm going to make a definition and start using it daily.

10:51 PM  

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