So I just sat in the weird corner in the parking lot of my office building, squished behind the dumpsters, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a brown Trader Joe's bag for a top, eating peanut butter from a jar with my fingers because I needed a break and this was the only place they couldn't find me.
What? I couldn't find a spoon.
Anyway, this is totally going to make me rethink my quick sizing-people-up reflex, because clearly sometimes when you think people are homeless, eating stolen peanut butter, literally wearing a brown paper bag, they're not.
They're actually just taking their mandatory ten minute break, and the peanut butter was the closest thing they could grab on the way out after spilling their entire bowl of cereal all over their shirt, which is now hanging over the side of the desk, dripping into the salad they bought from Trader Joe's because it's no longer in the protective brown paper bag, because the protective brown paper bag just had the bottom ripped out, and the handles bitten off, so that it could be shimmied over my head and around me to cover the fact that I'm wearing a bra that is so cute* it is literally the biggest teeny bopper bra they sell at Forever 21 (what? It says forever 21 right in the title. I can still shop there), while I ran out of the office and into the parking lot because the cereal spill was the LAST STRAW and if I didn't get out of there I was going to either a) start crying, or b) yell 'fuck' like I had turrets and someone just made me really socially uncomfortable.
And that's how I discovered Valium!
It wasn't like anything really horrible was happening at work, it was just four thousand things at once, and I was actually feeling pretty good, and sort of giggly as I ran out of the office half clothed, half ready for the beginning of a really low budget porno - but this is apparently what happens when you suddenly get your period every other week. I could feel myself starting to get stressed out, and I'm trying to nip things like that in the bud and be calm, and apparently this is how I don't let stress seep into me - I wear shopping bags and eat peanut butter like I'm Hurley and the Island just got a shipment of food dropped on them from some weird faction of the Dharma Initiative.
Hormones ablaze people. Let the fun for my co-workers ensue!
Just so you're not worried, I have (reluctantly) changed back into my still milky wet shirt, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna stay this way. I've got the peanut butter standing by just in case.
(*tween bras are for girls who are like 14 and don't want to wear training bras anymore, but can't really fit into big girl bras so they have these like mini bras that are SO CUTE and have sizes you thought you'd only see on batteries, and I made the unfortunate mistake of trying one on the other day because was so pretty it looked like a Dia De Los Muertos wedding cake, and I was spilling out of it, and bursting with totally false self-boob-confidence (which happens when you're wearing something designed for someone who hasn't gone through puberty yet) and so then I had to buy it, don't tell anyone.)
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