The sunshine makes me hopeful that lobster season will soon be upon us. Lobsters! I'm better suited to live by seasons than calendar. Yesterday, I nearly showed up for a lecture a week early and missed another lunch presentation, simply because I cannot read calendars.
That was all before the pedicure. In honor of spring and break, Meredith and I ducked out of work for a couple of hours. I wanted ice cream, but we got pretty toes instead. (The salon lady took one look at me and said, "Eyebrows?" Thanks. I know they're out of control, but I'm here for toes.) The whole wonderful experience took longer than expected and I wasn't in proper foot gear, so when it came time to snap back to reality, I had to rush back to the office in those free flimsy fake flip flops. You try shuffling down the block and crossing the street in paper-thin sandals with holes in them. (But what was the alternative? Put my socks back on and smear the polish? Heck no.)
Coincidentally, yesterday was the first time hospital security asked to see my badge in 3 years. Something about my orange faux flops waddle, my jeans rolled up, and the socks and sneakers in my hand seemed out of place to him. But I made it. Up the elevator. Down the hallway. Sneaked past the supervisor's office (empty- thank God), motioned "shh..." to the secretary, and scurried to my office. In retrospect, it's too bad that the conference room has glass walls and is across from my office. And that its doors were open. With my supervisor inside. Along with Chief, Vice Chief, Whitecastle and everyone else. Had I read the calendar, I would've known that there was a division-wide meeting yesterday.
Just as well though- saved me the trouble of showing off my toes to everyone individually.
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