Wearing sexy clothes is hazardous stuff. Steff Metal technically advised readers to wear a suspender belt with stockings, but:
1. Ew
2. Ow
I therefore chose instead to wear sexy boots to work. These sexy boots (bought for me by a sexy bridesmaid when I was engaged):
The cat comes separately.
I wore the boots on Monday and Tuesday, as I went a-tutoring. Certain problems became apparent rather quickly. Those things are seriously heavy. They’re also seriously tall, sending me towering above the six-foot range. Being hot has never been my speciality.
Since I’m also eating almost no chocolate (huge shock to the system, and always makes me lightheaded), my walking was never going to be graceful. I cunningly managed to almost fall over several times, and I had enormous difficulty getting in and out of the car (you try strapping a five-inch block to your feet and see how it works). It was perfectly clear that if I continued driving in these shoes I’d have a horrible crash and die.
And thus my experiment with being a hot young thing has passed into history.
Fatalities: 0
Play along at home: Wear something you probably shouldn’t. Feel free NOT to share it in the comments this time.
In other news, I’ve decided (literally last night) to register for a young adult and children’s lit festival THIS SATURDAY. I’m more than slightly scared, since my primary purpose is to schmooze with industry professionals (and learn from their seminars, of course). Like all writing festivals, it’s like a giant, expensive job interview with scores of mentally unstable applicants charging headfirst into a genteel brawl.
I’ll blog about it on Sunday!
In other other news, here’s some of the meals I’ve been eating (note the vegies) – a lunch and a dinner:
Tomorrow: 3-ingredient dessert of doooooom!
You and your hungry-making posts…
I think kitty-monster is trying to say to you “see, this is why I don’t let you out very often.”
W: the cat doesn’t let me out often, because if I die outside the home she won’t be able to eat me.