I often stray from the original purpose of this site… to highlight the ridiculous bullshit that happens throughout the course of my daily life. These things are not always huge, drawn out tales of shenanigans and tomfoolery – many times, they are simply bumblings and stumblings that make me laugh… and make everyone else in sight laugh with me (or at me, whatever).
So, for the sake of making fun of myself and/or filling you all in/staying true to the Confessions of a Walking Mishap premise, here are a few recent mishaps for your reading pleasure:
That time I walked around at work with a gigantic hole in my pants…
About a week ago, I realized, while washing my hands in the bathroom, that I had a gaping hole in my pants – right below the zipper… so, basically, I had a gigantic crotch hole in my pants. I saw it in the mirror. I have absolutely no idea how long I walked around like that, nor do I know whether or not anyone saw my goodies and didn’t tell me. The guys I work with say they didn’t notice… here’s hoping they aren’t just saying that.
That time I’m pretty sure my mailman saw me naked…
Okay, so I’m not always the domestic goddess I aspire to be – especially when it comes to laundry/ironing. I’m a menace with an iron. Instead of ironing things, I tend to throw them in the dryer while I’m in the shower (don’t judge). Anyway, this often leads to a dash down to the basement after showering to grab my clothes. Typically, it’s a race against the clock for me to get out the door on time. If my car is parked out back, I’ll often just get dressed in the basement, then off I go. On a particularly pressed-for-time morning, I knew my car was parked out back. I did my hair and makeup as per usual, then decided to forego the towel and just head down to leave. In the nude. Oops. I got down to the living room, and didn’t realize I had forgotten to close the curtains until I saw the mailman through my front window. He turned and walked away, and I made the rest of my dash to get out the door. He hasn’t been able to make eye contact since, so I’m fairly certain he’s seen me bareass. Awesome.
That time I called a Ma’am a Sir…
Sometimes, in working with the public, you run into awkward situations. A few of my coworkers have asked women what their due date was, when in fact, said woman was just a bit rotund. I had an individual come in the other day, and in my greeting, I made the mistake of assuming this short, rather husky individual with the extremely shorn crew cut, broad shoulders and cargo pants/flannel button up ensemble was a sir. Wrong. My “Welcome to ______, sir. My name is Dani, how may I help you?” was met with a VERY angry “My name’s Missy. Does that sound like a man’s name to you?” – OOPS. In my defense, Missy straight up looked like a dude.
I’m going to stop here, mainly because I’ve run out of steam and just wanted to make sure I got something posted since it’s been a few weeks.
XOXO
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