When you sleep through your alarm…

…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.


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