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.