One of those days....

It's 8:06 Tuesday morning, but it might as well be Monday. Mine is the only light on in the suite of offices where I work. I'm not sure why everyone else is late this morning, but someone is going to yell that I haven't turned on the lights and unlocked the door.

Here's the deal with that. The rest of the office is Student Services. They have a steady stream of students coming through with all kinds of questions, complaints, and general crises. I have no clue how to handle such things. I work with computers and faculty, and that's pretty much it. I don't even work for that department.

So, a couple of weeks ago, I came back from lunch to find the door locked. I let myself in, went to my office, and left the door locked. No one else was here, and I can't hear the door from my corner of the dungeon.

In a little while, the Assistant VP comes through and unlocks the door. She proceeds to tell me that, now that my office is here, I need to "step up" and start greeting people who come in and answer their questions. WTF?!?!

I'm not one to usually pull the "that's not my job" thing, but THAT IS REALLY NOT MY JOB! I don't know where to begin doing what Student Services does. It's like me telling her to sit at my desk and design online courses. I don't even work for these people!

And to say "step up"....like I'm not doing my part. I work 40+ hours a week. I bust my ass. I'm completely overwhelmed, and she wants me to do some of their job, too.

I. Don't. Think. So.

So, here I sit with the door locked. She's gonna yell again.

It's been that kind of morning.

The shower leaked and dripped in the room below it. That can't be good. The air conditioner broke. That won't be good later this afternoon. I broke my favorite water cup, that goes with my little bedside water jug. Smashed it to bits, and had to spend time I didn't have cleaning it up. Looked at my bank balance online and seem to have about $100 less than I think I should, and we're not even half way through the month.

Cleaning up the cup and checking out the shower ran me late this morning, so I had to abbreviate my shower. It wasn't until I was almost out the door that I remembered that I see the massage therapist today. When I see the massage therapist, there's one little thing that I am very self-conscious about.

Unshaven legs. I'm fairly sure I'd die of embarrassment if that poor woman had to work on my bad knee and tense calf muscles through my hideous stubble. Or worse, because I don't think I'd shaved since Saturday morning. Three days of nasty growth. I was mortified.

An idea struck me, though, and I grabbed my razor before flying out the door to get Son and Daughter to school on time.

Once the kids are delivered to their respective schools, I make my way to my office. At that time of morning (about 7:30), everything else in the building is shut and dark. Pretty darn quiet. Even the bathroom light is still off, from the previous evening's cleaning.

And this was where I headed first. Our little one-stall bathroom. Now, I knew this might take some time, so if anyone came in I'd have to give up and leave, so as not to cause a restless waiting line. Besides, they could see my feet and would know something weird was going on.

I shut the door and pulled my razor from my purse. And yessirree, if you haven't guessed it already, I shaved my legs at the toilet.

See, I needed the water to activate that little moisture strip thingie on the razor, to make the process of almost-dry-shaving bearable. I think I blew through a brand new razor in a matter of minutes, but not I can let my self-conscious self go. The legs are smooth, and not prickly-gross for the therapist.

Chalk up another bizarre day to my existence.