The Empress' Lack of New Clothes

In a sea of holiday sweaters, black hosiery worn with open-toed shoes, sparkly dresses, and uncomfortable suits, I am going to stand out like the vixen that I am. I am considering wearing my mink and nothing else because dudes… I am desperate now.
Tonight is my company's annual holiday party.
They basically throw a swanky wedding, minus the boring religious bs, for all employees (and a guest!) every single year. We go to a seriously sweet resort, and this is Arizona. Resorts are SERIOUSLY SWEET.
We get cocktails, unlimited in scope.
We get dinner, buffet in execution.
We get dancing, DJ in style.
We used to get a wad of cash but that's been discontinued as of this year.

One person in the department in which I work doesn't know what she's wearing tonight. It's eleven in the morning, and here's the run-down of what I need to get over before I can be in the correct mind-set for a party that caters my ride home in a stretch limo.
I'll be pulling up to the ghetto in a limo tonight, most likely after my attempts to duck wanton managers wanting me to do shots with them have failed.
So, I've got laundry going now and I have pants. I definitely have pants to wear, which is good - half the battle for some people.
My hair is a frizzed up mess and supposedly, I am going to do curlers and a poodle 'do but I'm not quite sure how to get there because:
1. I've never done that to my hair.
2. I have to go to the dog park at 3 and be ready for this gig by 6.
I have shoes, so... good.
I have no shirt.
I mean, I have shirts, and plenty of them, but I don't have anything that really hits the pants the right way or is appropriate or dressy enough for the event.
Basically, I can't believe that I am saying this about a party where dressing up is required, basically, I'm ruined.
No! Not totally! I am wearing my mink. It's vintage - it was my great-grandmother's and I think I might not treasure anything so much as I do this little furry piece of herstory.

I know how to dress up and I can't pull my shit together for this one. I have like, a million other things going through my head. I have to get the laundry done and get a tire repaired so that I can go to Phoenix tomorrow, for the first time pretty much since I moved here. I have a while guilty thing about the doglet and leaving her without a lot of quality time this weekend.
I'm bloated and gross from PMS, an affliction which causes me to be found randomly in one of two general states:
1. Tears.
2. Rage.
Pick one because when things are headed toward lunar lady circumstances, there is no emotional in-between for me.
And the bloating is hampering any freedom I might have found in my closet. This one's too tight. It's too short. It pulls right here. No. That's not even mine. Can I wear a dress over black pants, or is that too, "I'm crazy! Love, Sharon Stone"

Heaven help me this afternoon. To top it all off, I couldn't sleep last night because of a brewing and lovely cup of tea in an undisclosed area of life.
I'm super-happy though and I kind of don't give a damn about this great party.

I think I'd just rather be doing something else with my life.
I love my company and my coworkers and I genuinely love my job but I think that I want to focus on family and home, you know?
I'm not sure how to do that form where I am right now - not geographically - but emotionally and spiritually.
I feel like it's an emerging theme for me and it might even reference the Softer Side of Sarah.
Yeah, it grosses me out, too.
But something is going on here and it's good and it's different and it's so damn satisfying that I don't particularly care for fretting over the other sectors of my life.

Oh well.
For now, I had better get to fretting and fret my way to Cross Dress for Less so I can find SOMETHING.
I'm pretty sure topless, even with a vintage mink coat, wouldn't go over very well with this crowd.

arizonasarah at 10:46 a.m.

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