Last night after seeing the predicted million degree weather, I set my mind on the task of wearing shorts to work. This may sound stupid but I am not really an out in public wearing anything above my knees kind of person. I can wear khaki, black or denim shorts to work that are no shorter than three inches above my knees. Perfect because I am no braver than three inches anyhow. But am I brave at all? My legs are whitey white compared to my new farmers tan and I am self conscious about all the dings and marks adorning my thicker mom stems. I work with a team that looks like a cast from an old navy ad all joined up to be camp counselors and frankly I would put money on the odds that most have in fact been camp counselors. Our attire is campy yet clean at work basically. So this morning I search my stuff for shorts, select a couple pairs and jump in the shower to tend to the art that is not slicing myself to ribbons with a razor while absentmindedly shanscaping my nine miles of leg. Here is the inner monologue that transpired while I got ready.
Geez I hate shaving.
Good thing I'm married. hehehe.
That's so sad.
Why do I have so much skin?
This takes too long.
::out of shower trying on shorts::
Khaki makes my skin look paler.
How's that even happen?
Maybe denim is better.
I wonder if a rolled up jean short looks to young for my age.
Is it short? Or shorts? A rolled up jean shorts sounds stupid. Must be singular kinda.
I don't feel super fat in these.
Can I work in them? ::doing lunges and bends::
Hal: "what are you doing?"
Me: "nothing go eat breakfast"
::back to lunges but in my room instead of in front of the hall mirror::
I think these are good.
Hmmm, they have a little "fashion tear" by the pocket.
I wonder if that looks trashy.
::put the khaki shorts back on::
Hal: "what shorts are those?" ::making a rude teenager face::
::put on jean shorts and add a belt::
Fuck it. These are great.
I hate shorts.