A story that no one cares to hear

I'm terribly uncomfortable right now, and what's really ironic is that I'm wearing jeans.

Yes, that's right, I'm wearing jeans at work. On a Thursday. No, it's not casual day.

I thought my khakis were in my car, so this morning when I woke up a little late for our 10 a.m. meeting, I just threw on jeans with the full intention of changing afterward.

Except then I went out to my car, and there were no khakis there.

I spent the morning carrying my desk-drawer blanket around in front of me to obscure the dress code violation.

But alas, it was all for naught.

You see, I won an award. OK, it was an honorable mention, and I'm never sure how to feel about those. They're like, "Hey, you didn't win, but nice try!" So the bosses wanted me to enter the same articles in another competition and I made the trek back to the morgue to grab some tear sheets.

Of course someone had already purged last January's archives and dumped all the back issues into a giant bin. I knew I'd spend all afternoon in there if I had to dig through them on my own, so I grabbed my editor to help me out.

On our way back to the morgue, the big boss stopped us. And my jeans-wearing self tried to turn invisible.

*sigh*

Just one of those days, I guess, when even wearing a nice pair of jeans can't improve your mood.