My life for the past couple of days has been simple in the great state of Wisconsin: eat some cheese curds, eat some meat sticks, drink some Spotted Cow, eat some more cheese curds, think about how much tighter my pants have gotten, have another beer. I’ve been roaming the world wearing khaki shorts and a navy polo against my will for the past 3 days feeling both unattractive and lumpy. I do not look attractive in Wisconsin.
I was left to my own devises last night to dress myself for an industry party and tossed on a sundress that I’ve had for years and wear often before running out the door. Standing at the bar with a co-worker, she looked down at me and said, “Wow, you brought out your a-game cleavage for Wisconsin.”
“Um, not intentionally,” I said. And then proceeded to have an existential crisis as to whether my boobs had gotten bigger or my dress had gotten smaller. I’ve made the executive decision that my dress has gotten smaller and spent the rest of the night holding my pint of beer in front of my boobs for modesty– epecially when standing anywhere near my CEO and his wife.
Wisconsin has been nifty otherwise. I’m off to Minnesota tomorrow for birthday and wedding festivities. Fingers crossed that I managed to pack something other than khakis and polos– that would not be fashionable wedding or birthday attire. Back in DC and the sweltering heat on Monday.