Today is going to be a long day. I forgot my bra at home. Here’s how.
When I get home in the evenings, right before I get to the dilly dallying I do before I finally let sleep take me in his merciful embrace, I go through a routine I have been religious with these past few weeks. This routine is supposed to be part of the stuff that keeps my insanity at bay (I can feel the sanity leaking away sometimes. Editing wannabe-writers’ work, whose first language is not English for a living is a sure way to get checked into an asylum, do not be deceived otherwise).
Anyway, so this routine involves preparing what I will wear to work the next day, and then some. See in a quest to be in control of my body … and mind again, I have started running for about 40 minutes through Kololo most mornings at about 6:40am or as soon as the sun reports for duty. Since I do not shower at home on those mornings, I have to mentally dress myself up the night before as I put the clothes in the kit-bag. I pick the outfit first then add the appropriate panty and bra. The issue is that that is not all I have to pack. I have to add a face towel/flannel or sponge, my small portable body towel which is very nearly the size of a tea towel and finally my jewellery of the day. I also have to pick out the sportswear I will be running with because I drive to work dressed that way, park, drop my stuff at my desk, pick my weights from the drawer by my desk, and then jog away.
Yesterday was slightly more mentally challenging than usual, because, since I have not run at work in a week (I have been using the elliptical trainer and getting to work 30 minutes later then prescribed by management), my shower gel, lotion, and trainers were at home too. Cannot remember why I carried them home instead of leaving them in my locker at work like usual. Most likely I was too broke to replace to soap in the house bathroom.
Also, I have a flight to catch tomorrow at 11am and two sets of people to meet this evening, it might end late. The flight time is not bad but I live 45 kilometres away from the airport, at your grandma’s house in Kyambogo (do not roll your eyes…I am trying to sort that out). This means that I have to be at the airport by about 8am. Your grandma is taking me. I am not worried; I will make good time because she quite likes to panic, even more than me (yes, that’s possible too). She likes to think she’s a race-car driver sometimes, which is why I have to wake up early so she does not have to showcase her skills.
Yeah, so where was I…yes…packing for work. It was while doing that, all the above whipped through my mind and I realized I had no time! So I decided to pack my small suitcase for my two-week trip as well, and ended up sleeping at about 1am. That is where the confusion must have arisen.
After an invigorating 30minute-3mile run, a happy first-time jogging mate from work and pumped up on happy endorphins I grabbed my kitbag from my desk and hit the showers. You can imagine how fast my heart plummeted when, while laying out my clothes in the work locker room I discovered I had no bra! I remember putting away bras, but I clearly neglected to put one in the kit-bag. Merde!!
I knew right then, that the day was going to be a long one. I showered leisurely anyway…there was no downhill from here. Thankfully I had everything else.
I smell fresh and I am ready to take on the day…also, I happened to have forgotten my light shrug-on at work yesterday. So I have something to cover my girls when they perk up from the AC. I am quite lucky that my rack is not a standard one…B cup or some such. There will hardly be any real damage except for my self-consciousness which is likely to result in me walking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame but oh well. I feel exposed and ALONE!!! It gets uncomfortably hot in the news room too because AC works in the morning only (which is idiotic since that is when it is least needed) so I’m gonna be stuck hugging by breasts around this shrug-on all day! Mercy!
Morals of the winding story:
- Carry extra underwear ALWAYS in like your car or a hidden compartment in you handbag…OR
- Pray to baby Jesus that your father’s genes are recessive with regard to boob endowment or that you do not take after any of my sisters.
- Thank the same baby for me that it was not a skirt I left at home like last time…sigh