I feel like I should start in the here and now because at least I can remember that stuff accurately.
I am currently a 31 year old women, who is single, has two cats and is sitting at my Target $69 dollar desk for the first time ever. I "built" the desk about a month ago, but my office has slowly changed into the cat's room so it wasn't terribly inviting. Imagine 2 cat boxes, a cat tree and cat toys all over the place; everything lightly dusted in cat litter. I'm sitting here at the desk chair I bought at Walgreens 6 years ago and I'm looking out over my backyard. I live in a corner walk up that has a nice patch of grass as a backyard. We have a wooden fence on one side that borders, what can only be described as- a strip mall...or suburb in miniature. You see, I live in Chicago, which is one of the most happening places in the country in my opinion,but I someone found myself living in a weird oasis where the Target, Home Goods, Chipotles of the world came to meet so that city folks could go and get their guilty pleasures. My room overlooks my grassy backyard as well as a large parking structure that has a huge circular light that acts as my own eclipsless moon. It reads, "Regal Stadium 14- parking". My front yard smells like wafts of movie popcorn and the occasional bbqed meat from the restaurant next to the movie theater. It's a bit of a change after the charming street I used to live on, but that's another post for another day.
More about me- because at the heart of blogging is always a narcissist. I'm currently wearing a work-out outfit bought form Costco- there has to be numerous stories about costco on here (mental note). The outfit is covered in cat hair, almost to the point that the pants look like those old west chaps that have a whole sheered sheep on the legs or something. I am typing with sunglasses on because I have the two windows in front of me wide open and it's crazy sunny. If I attempt to close the shades my black cat, Petey bites the blinds as if to say, "fuck off, this is all I have". So the sunglasses are a compromise, and I'd say they look cool but I bought them to bike with so they rap around my face in a most unbecoming way. I have an intense sports bra on that is titled "Tata tamer" according to Lulu lemon, a place where I would never shop, but I was given a gift certificate (and to tell you the truth, it's a really great bra).
I guess our mini story of the day should be titled:
I've lost it
So almost everyday of the year I bike to work and I put on my biking clothes that includes a sports bra and I get to school and I change into my work clothes. I leave my bra at work so that I don't forget it and I can change into it after I take off my sports bra. Well, on Wednesday I changed to go to the gym in the girl's bathroom of the high school where I work. Now, there are no teacher bathrooms, no locker rooms, and no showers, so my options were limited. The next day I go to change into the bra that I leave at school and I can't find it anywhere. I tear my desk apart, I look through all of the clothes I keep at school. I double check my backpack.
I then tell this story to my advisory- a group of 12th graders who I have mentored for four years. They are completely losing it- they are laughing up a storm. Then one girls goes, "wait was it a black bra?" Yes, I said, not at all surprised. "I found that bra int the bathroom and I told a bunch of teachers about it." So then I go on a hunt for my bra looking for the teachers and I even looked in the lost and found trying to see if I had lost my bra under an old copy of Lord of the Flies. No juice. At this point I'm stopping teachers from the 3rd floor of the hallway looking for my bra.
Needless to say- everyone has been laughing their ass off, but I have no idea where this stupid thing ended up. It may very well be in some 9th grader's sock drawer where he dreams of the girl that wore it. It was me, you pervert- I'm double your age.
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