Sweating Under My Spanx

I have a spanx tank top that keeps my back and side meat in check and out of the plain view of the unsuspecting citizens of the world. Today at 10:08am I am in the bathroom of job 3 hiding, blogging, and airing out.

By 8am this morning I had spoken to my boss @ job 1 no less than 3 times. I had also held 2 conference calls, one of which I got to talk an employee off of a ledge because she was tired of her check being late (umm....yea get in line everyone's is late). I "virtually" met with three new hires from three different countries to explain company policy....all while trying to get dressed.

I dialed in to my last conference call at 8:30am, muted the phone, grabbed my bfast/lunch elements, threw them in my purse, shoved my computer in its bag, strapped the bags to my back, grabbed my shoes and ran outside, got in the car and proceeded to weave in and out of traffic while eating string cheese, and giving my boss my division updates, until I got to job 3.

I get to job 3, log off my job 1 call, walk inside the building and put all but one of my bfast/lunch elements in the fridge. I get to my desk crack open my bfast shake and I hear my supervisor's door open. I turn around to look at the face of a woman that has had a rough weekend and is glad to be at work this morning. Think Cruella deville as she tears through the countryside looking for the 99 Dalmation puppies....yea that was the face that she had. She summons me to her office to tell me that it's someone's birthday today and she forgot to get the cake. I then get my morning marching orders. Pick up a cake, a bday card, 2 bereavement cards, a loss of pet card ( I won't even get into that one but **face**). I take one sip of my bfast shake and hit the road.

Of course...this is the morning that I didn't pack any flats. Of course.....this is the morning that I'm not wearing a loose interpretation of professional attire, so I'm running around in dressy stuff. Of course....this is the morning that I decide to reign in my back meat and my pot holder side meat. Of course...this is the morning that I lotioned my feet and it rained so the lotion has created a slip-n-slide in my heels and my big toe nail polish has chipped. I'm a walking three-ringed circus bound in lycra sausage casing!

So I get to pu.blix(grocery store) grab the cards and the cake and get in line. Now the 10 items of less lines are on the other end of the store. Do I totter down to the other end to get in the shorter line? No....because I feel like I'm asking for a complete wipe-out in the middle of the store. So I jump in the closest line and am behind a stay-at-home mom doing her weekly grocery shopping and her cute child and I'm in front of a man buying enough fruit to stock a jungle. Well....the child was cute. The thing started shrieking to the point where I was so rattled I shot it the nastiest look and it got quiet. Fruit man then decided to strike up a conversation, but thankfully he was cut off by my ringing phone. The phone call was from my supervisor....I needed to grab another bereavement card.

At this point mommy dearest has blocked me in to the front and chiquita banana supplier man has me blocked in the back so I can only wait until the mother moved to go back to the card section and grab another one. I get back to work put the cake in the conference room and go and cover the phones for the receptionist. By the time I get back to my desk I welcome the piece of cake that my supervisor left for me. As I'm eating it, I look down and realize...my front buttons are undone. Hello Sausage casing, wonder how long you've been exposed???.....So i'm here in the bathroom sitting in the chair (they put a chair in here for nursing mother's I presume) and just thinking wow...it's not even 11am yet.