Alas, not Narnia.
I finally got a job. First shifts were over the weekend.
I don't want to talk about the job - it's waitressing, and why the hell did I decide to work in hospitality again?
I want to talk about my clothes.
On Saturday, I wore a tshirt/ bra combination I'd never worn before, and I kept on getting distracted. I'd look down, and go: wow cleavage! I mean, wow. There were boobs in my shirt. Having read a lot about slut shaming and the policing of women's bodies recently, I was kind of hoping to notice people treating me differently, but apparently my new!improved!boobage was noticeable only to me.
Sunday was much more embarrassing. I delivered a coffee to a little old lady, who stopped me to say "dear, you have a hole in your pants. I can see your undies". Luckily, I had safety pins in my bag, and disappeared into the loo to do surgery on my pants. I'm buying black jeans today.
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