Baby it's cold outside.

Yet again, I have on no socks.

I’m freezing.

It’s totally my own fault.

I’m not wearing a jacket, either.

And this has nothing to do with me being cold, but I just discovered that my belt is twisted.  Horribly. I also managed to miss two belt loops.  Sigh.

Um, where were those text messages reminding me to dress like an adult that I requested to be sent to my phone this morning?  I, evidently, needed them desperately.

Again.  Sigh.

Today, lots of people have been smiling at me.  I, of course, return the smile, but on the inside I’m totally freaking out.

See, a few weeks after I started working at my current job (administrative assistant/glorified secretary for a law firm that specializes in bankruptcy and divorce law), I had to prepare my first set of legal documents for a client to sign.  I was so, so nervous about making sure that everything went smoothly that  I got to work early and went through the stack of papers about a million times, ensuring that everything was in perfect order.  I even used the little post-it notes that say, “sign here” so that I would be less likely to screw up the process.

The meeting with the client couldn’t have gone any better.

All day, I was metaphorically patting myself on the back. 

I was even convinced that my good mood was contagious, because people I didn’t even know would look at me and break out into huge, cheesy grins.

Later on in the afternoon, I was walking to the local coffee shop to treat myself for my job well done.  I went to get something out of my purse, and I felt something poke me on the inside of my right arm. 

Oh yes.

On the right side of the lower part of my right boob (I feel kind of dirty using the word “boob” in my blog, but what’s a girl to do?), there was a bright yellow “sign here” post-it note.  Considering that I had prepared the documents for the client at about 8:00 that morning, and I decided to make my trek to the coffee shop around 4:00 that evening, I had been sporting this as an accessory (and invitation?) for a grand total of 8 hours.

Needless to say, I have checked myself repeatedly today in attempt to figure out why people are so seemingly pleased to see me.  My belt is now fixed.  My shirt is on correctly.  My fly is zipped.  I don’t have anything in my teeth. I have eye makeup on both eyes.  I don’t have pen on my face.  And I definitely don’t have a “sign here” post-it anywhere on my body.  

I’m thoroughly confused.

Maybe I will soon figure this out.

Until then, have a wonderful weekend, boys and girls.