This entry should probably fall under the "too much information" category. But I am past caring, at this point. Incidentally, I was accused of sharing TMI last night on the phone with a guy friend. Sorry Friend! You're about to get a double dose!
This morning I was planning my wardrobe for the day. I have one of those crazy days where it started out with an early breakfast meeting, then off to work after which I'm having dinner with a friend, then meeting up with another group of friends at another restaurant, then heading off to go dancing. Whew. So I knew I needed to wear something that would be appropriate for work, but still be fun and cute for a night out because I will have no time to go home and change.
I headed out the door feeling pretty good about my selection. V-neck shirt with jeans and heels and, because I am a Good Baptist Girl, a tank top under the shirt to keep anything questionable from showing. Yes, well, good intentions are better than nothing, right? As the day has progressed, said tank top keeps sliding lower and lower and lower. Like, really low. As in, "Hi, my name is Laurie and please also meet Laverne and Shirley who are making a public appearance today."
I can't decide which is better: do I keep tugging the darn thing up every five minutes or just embrace the situation and work it?