…A lot of snazz goes wrong…I have had what can be said the most frazzled day of all time all thanks to the fact that for the first time ever I either a) Slept through my 6:30am alarm or b) Turned it off in my (apparently) very very deep slumber.
Now why does one require a 6:30 am alarm for a 10:20am weight training class you ask?
a) I was intending to wash my hair= 25 mins to shower, 40 mins to style my hair
b) I always like to drink my four cups of Peet’s Arabian Mocha Java in slow, slow uninterrupted peace
c) Breakfast- my kefir/greek yoghurt/flaxseed/cinnamon/berries/cinnamon puffins/toasted oatmeal flakes combo
d) I need to have time to lie in bed lingering and reading the IMMENSE march issue of vogue
e) Outfit testability…since I have weight training I must first try on/evaluate the outfit I plan on wearing for the remainder of the day of course
f) (obviously) looking through EVERYTHING on Facebook and Twitter since I went to bed last night
g) brush teeth/mouthwash/eyeliner/mascara/YSL Parisienne
h) finishing whatever homework I have left to this moment
Oh yes and in order to find a decent parking spot I have to leave the house at 9:40 for a 10:20 class. Yup sons that’s right…
when did I wake up today?
No washing hair (it turned out alright surprisingly)
No Vogue perusing
No finishing homework.
Instead- put on a pencil skirt, some LACY tights/stockings/pantyhose, my bumblebee ring, Miss Sixty trench, and Chanel stunna shades…figure I’d change in the locker room…
leave the house at 10:12am, reach school grounds at 10:21, look for parking for 15 minutes…FAIL and instead have to park at the opposing end of campus…
Runnnnnnn down to the Athletic Complex, run into the locker room (looking like a completely frazzled psychowoman along the way…get in the locker room, change superrrr fast into gym clothes, go to gym, get on elliptical, reply to e-mails via blackberry, run back up to locker room post-class…)
and this is where it gets bad. Real bad.
I realise that my lacy stockings/pantyhose/tights are NOT in my bag nor the locker room which can only mean one thing…
I lost my lacy pantyhose, ladies and gentleman in the gym complex frequented by very attractive people on a minutely basis. Proceeded to the blokes working the reception to inquire if they have seen said stockings (which my suspicion is that I dropped them right outside the locker room). No. They are nowhere to be found. I have a very embarrassing theory in my mind of where they could be and am swimming in the remnants of my mortification at what a frazzlefest of a human I am between unflattering shorts incidents and losing my lacy pant substitutes.
The icing on the cake is that my parents are in town and on campus and I had to explain to them this entire story as to why I am strutting around with my legs/thighs/hamstrings to the wind in 35 degree Fahrenheit weather.
And that is what happens when you sleep through your alarm.