Yesterday I was pretty stoked about my outfit. Usually I shuffle into work wearing my loosest pants, flattest shoes, most casual-but-still-kinda-business shirt, and my hair full of dry shampoo product. Basically, exactly what you'd expect from someone so lazy that she regularly arrives at work ten minutes after rolled out of bed. (Yay for a 3 minute commute!)
But yesterday, I put on a dark gray pencil skirt, white ruffled tuxedo blouse that buttoned to the neck, the fire engine red cardigan I bought this weekend (Yay for spending your way to happiness!) and my yellow and brown bootie sandals.
But every time I went to the bathroom and caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror, I kept thinking something was wrong.
Around my fourth trip to the restroom (I drink a lot of Diet Coke at work), I figured out what it was.
Keep scrolling ...