So proud of myself

Why? What exactly have I done today to deserve my own praise? The short answer: under extreme duress and excruciating DMS I did not break down into tears.

Why is this a big deal? Well, because for me, PMS and DMS are a time of utter nonsense and herky jerky emotions. Luckily, for some reason at this point in my life I can realize almost immediately that I am exhibiting rather irrational behavior. Like, for instance, being reduced to tears while watching an episode of Veronica Mars--not even a sad one, for the record.

The lamest of lame holiday commercials have this week plus window during which they can milk my tear ducts. And milk them they do. But not today.

Today, I took control--under extreme circumstances to the infinity power plus one.

So this morning I woke up long before the sun (didn't sleep well--work stress), showered, threw on some clothes and headed out the door in a vortex--papers and knitting flying everywhere (tonight being knit nite and all).

I made it to work at a decent time, and went to grab some cash out of my purse to grab the ever-important cup o' coffee and muffin/scone/something. (Note to those a bit thriftier than myself: generally I am 100% pro drinking the free work coffee. But after last week's fiasco where someone decided to make the work coffee using paper towels instead of coffee filters, I cannot manage to even fathom drinking a cup of joe from the work kitchen). Anyway, long story longer, I couldn't find my cash. And I was sure I had $20.

I knew immediately that I had lost $20. How? Who the heck knows, but I was sure I had somehow managed to do just that. I felt the tears brewing, but somehow kept them in the holding tank. I bummed $2 from a co-worker. I had enough at least for a cup of coffee. Day saved. Disaster averted.

So, I'm enjoying my cup of coffee from the new cafe when I realize it is time to use the facilities. I have been feverishly working on deadline and had been ignoring my bladder. It was almost too late...

I rush into the bathroom (single use--whew) and take care of business. I stand up, flush, and pull up my pants. And then it happens. The most embarrassing thing ever. The zipper head comes off in my hand. I have no way to fasten my pants. Did I mention that I am at work. In an office. Full of peers both male and female. Did I also mention that these are low rise pants, and thus reveal quite a bit more than pants of yore.

And, of course I'm wearing undies (I'm no Britney), but that is beside the point.

I spent quite a bit of time in the bathroom trying to figure out what to do. Did I have a safety pin in my purse? No. Could I perhaps fasten some sort of fix out of paper clips? Not a chance. Did I have time to knit myself a snazzy new pair of pants? Unfortunately, no. I was out of options.

Bigger question. Can I walk out of the bathroom without everyone noticing that my pants no longer had a zipper? Luckily mostly yes. For some reason this morning I was chilly and had decided to put on my warmest most shapeless large sweater. It is a bit longer than my normal sweaters and thus covered the problem as long as I was standing up and simultaneously pulling down on the hem of the sweater.

What to do? I spend most days at my desk sitting down, and in meetings sitting down.

The obvious answer was that I needed to get myself another pair of pants stat. Sadly, I live an hour away from where I work, so I did what any red-blooded American consumer would do--I went and bought myself a new pair of jeans.

They actually aren't as nice as the old ones (which I will be returning to the store from whence they came for either a full refund or a comparable replacement), but they were only $20 and they kept me from turning into a slobbery pile of salty mush, quivering under my desk.

From now on I think I'll be storing a spare pair of pants in the trunk of the car. I'm serious. This could happen to you! Anytime. Anywhere. You could have your very own wardrobe malfunction involving a faulty zipper head and some pants, thereby exposing your unmentionables to the world.

I ask you, what would you do?