I use to laugh secretly at them poor women who would rush early in the morning, putting on their seemingly complicated blouses and only to have them on inside out. Once my boss – and if you are reading this, I laugh because I love ;) – came into the office wearing a green button up dress shirt. She manage to do the impossible. She had a dress shirt worn inside out. 'Your shirt is wrong.' I said while giggling trying to keep in that laughter. 'Your shirt. It's inside out,' V said. At this point, I couldn't hold it any longer. I was laughing loud enough for the whole sartorial institution (current addicted to using this word) to hear.
Of course, Karma being the bitch that he is, came biting back. After my work out at the gym, the changing room was busier than usual. Crowded and the air thick with the smell of sweaty men. I decided to just zoom through changing into my clothes. Usually I would hang out for a bit, checking out the crowd.
Apparently zooming through something complicated, like changing back into your clothes is not a good idea. Because as I was on my way back, I realize that I had my t-shirt on inside out. Oh now the whole freaking world knows I wear a size L Banana Repulic T-Shirt.
Karma's a bitch I tell you.
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"Knowing Karma: Outsmarting karmic forces" (An excerpt: "If you beat Karma on a technicality, chances are the shit won't hit the fan, to borrow that charming expression. The absence of calculated malice, for instance, can let you get away with murder, but only if you insist, for example, that you had no idea the chances of a fatal colision between the victim and the grand piano in your 10th storey home were so high. You could blame this on poor window construction, in which case the fault really lies with your contractors")
HEH.
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