Well. That was embarrassing.

Around 9-ish this morning (I arrived at work at 7:55 - early for once) I happened to glance down at my right sleeve and I noticed that something looked... odd. Somehow wrong. Then in a flash I realized what it was and started to get the squirming jitters.

I had put on my shirt inside out when I got dressed this morning.

Yes, that's right. Apparently I wasn't aware of how I had dressed myself until about two hours later. I checked my pants real quick, but they were good. Zipped and facing the right way. That must be the "silver lining" they speak of.

The shirt I am wearing is a button up crew neck so there isn't much of a collar to speak of. And the proper number of buttons were already buttoned so I never noticed they were now on the INSIDE of the shirt. However the tag on the back isn't one of those little, barely noticeable things. It's a large rectangle sown directly into the back. Like a big ol' idiot badge of honor. I noticed this because as soon as I had figured out that "things were wrong" I felt the back of my neck to assess the obviousness of my situation. It's a BIG tag.

I looked around the room at the other artists working at their desks and considered my options. My first instinct was to try and quickly flip it off right-side out and then put it back on but I discarded that thought as too difficult to play off, "I... um... had an itch that I had to take my shirt off to scratch."

Then I considered the exists to the two ground floor bathrooms. The closest was very close, but I would have to walk past Derek and Scott's desks. Casually. Not good.

The other bathroom is at the other end of the building, through the reception area and past the Account Executive's area. I had already gone out there at least once this morning, but then I was oblivious to the situation at hand. Not to mention that I would pass in front of Kellie, Ray and Kathy (although either option I took everyone would have a good shot at noticing.)

Then I thought once again about just scrunching down behind my monitor wall and doing a quick change and act like nothing happened, "What? I never did! You're crazy." Nononono. Just won't work.

Fine. At least if I went to the closer bathroom, fewer people might be exposed to my glaring inability to dress myself than if I cross the entire building. Again.

So I got up from my desk, walked around it and headed as casually as I could to the bathroom, which was luckily unoccupied. If it had been occupied I would have gone to plan #2: go outside and do a quick change in the parking lot (the side door is almost opposite the bathroom door) in front of God and Colorado.

I went in, closed the door behind me, flipped my shirt right-side out and checked the mirror to make sure my hair wasn't messed up (hah!). Then I thought about flushing the toilet, because that's what you generally do when you go into a bathroom for any reason other than Nature's call (done "reading" your dad's porn? Better flush. That'll fool them). But I decided, "Nah. I have nothing to hide now. Shirt's fixed!" and went back to my desk. Again, as casually as I could. Show's over. Nothing to see here.

So far I haven't heard anything about it, so I may have gone unexposed. Until I wrote this, of course. Now Derek will know, but he has no proof! This could all have been made up! Who knows? Hah!

For what it's worth, if it DID really happen (not saying it did or anything) it has been a nice jolt of nightmare like quality which makes any day more interesting. I can't wait to see what tomorrow has in store for me.


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