Well. I don’t know how I did it, but I splattered several ounces of diet coke all down the front of my white shirt. Humph. Of course, I have learned the magic power of baby wipes, so I immediately grabbed some to remove the incriminating stains that make indicate I’m incapable of performing my job, or of functioning as a grown-up. Something about soda stains all down someone shirts seems to give off the “incompetent” vibe.
Of course now I give off the “Wet T-shirt” vibe as I’ve drenched my shirt in baby wipe juice to remove the brown marks. I got kinda carried away with the wiping clean and now my entire shirt is soaked through, leaving nothing to the imagination to anyone who may glance in my direction. Lucky for me, no one ever comes to my office for anything, so I should be safe in the knowledge that my humiliation may remain a private affair. Because where coke stains my reflect “incompetence”, wet white blouse reflects “strip club” and that’s not the professional message I’m trying to send.
Not today, anyway.