OK, I am not able to punish my job much, but they honestly believe that I am fashion deficient and really impoverished to boot based on the ensembles I sport. Today I'm wearing "slacks" stolen from one of my housemates which are a wee bit short in the crotcheroo (so the pleats poof out, explain that to me) and just a hair bit highwater in dull as dirtwater navy blue, with one of my mom's hand-me-down pilled all to hell cotton sweaters in used-to-be-red. Snicker. With black shoes and, because it's always cold in here, a blue zippy hooded sweatshirt which is the only part of the outfit I actually endorse. We dress "business casual" here. Heh heh. I look like hell everyday, unless I'm in an exceptionally good mood. They can't quite put their fingers on what's wrong (one thing is that I'm not very decorative, and it is one of my functions as a post-secretary, but they know they can't verbalize this). It's really the small things, isn't it?

I went on a spree with a coworker and bought 3 jackets and 3 skirts and a sweater and a pair of pants for $112.00 (Dillard's 75% clearance). And I have not worn one of the items to work. She must really be beginning to wonder. She admired my taste and consumer savvy through the whole process, and I haven't so much as thought about wearing them. They're my interview clothes for WHEN I GET THE FUCK OUT OF MIND NUMBING BULLSHIT TYPING FILING EXPENSE REPORTS VACATION TRACKING secretary land and do something I will be happier about. Swine, you still got that space under your fucking desk?