Monday, 3 August 2009

It was fluff, honest!

At the weekend I bought an overpriced woolen garment. It was a cardigan, cute, and green, a good dark green, not a bogey green. It got to go to work with me today.
Half way through a meeting, in a hot stuffy room, I took off the cardigan and then four hours later I realised that the fluff that often accompanies a new cardie or jumper was all over my underarm (yes, that's right, underarm, women aren't allowed to have armpits, they have underarms), with such thickness it looked like I was half-human half-ape.
I asked my colleague why she hadn't warned me, she said she hadn't noticed, another colleague said she thought I must have known. I mean really! IF I HAD KNOWN I WOULD HAVE TAPED THE CARDIGAN TO MY BODY, EVEN IN OUR NON-AIR CONDITIONED OFFICE!
I retrace my steps and conclude that my boss, the receptionist, security, the sandwich man, the postman, three directors, two PAs and a newsagent now think that my underarm hair is out of control and can only hope that my boss doesn't put 'personal grooming' as a topic to discuss on my 360°.
I admit it, I fancy the sandwich man.

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