And other hazards of commuting.
When I'm in my car, I feel invisible. Even though I can clearly see into the cars around me. Even though I can see them smoking, dialing, dancing, singing, whatevs. Even though. I am completely confident that no one can see me.
I am also very hot natured. And I'm not convinced that they have turned the air on at work yet. It's very, very warm to me. I spend most of the day flushed, fearful that I might explode.
I'm also a little dramatic at times.
So the other day I wore a cute, short sleeve jacket to work. Pink, of course. And under the cute, pink, short sleeve jacket, I wore a thin white tank top with lace trim. Really a camisole I guess, but it's cotton and has thicker straps so a lot like a tank.
Tired of being hot and concerned about spontaneous combustion, once I plopped into my Civic, I shed my cute, pink jacket and sat in my vehicle in my white cotton tank top, enjoying the rush of cool air. You see, I HAVE turned my air on.
But as I pulled out of my parking spot and proceeded to maneuver my way out of our parking garage, I suddenly became keenly aware that, in fact, others CAN see me in my car. And I'm only wearing a thin, lacy strap, white cotton camisole. I felt positively scandalous with my bare arms! (it's a pretty conservative dress code we follow, exposed brassieres and not par) Of course there was a long line to get out of the garage and I imagined all eyes on my near nakedness, taking notes, sure to report me to HR the next morning. And then I noticed the security cameras. Pointing right at my windshield. I prayed for glare.
I wear tank tops all the time. This one was no different. But somehow, just being in the same building where men aren't even allowed to wear short sleeves, I felt over exposed and ookey.
I won't do that again.
But I must say, driving home near naked isn't so bad once you're out of the garage and among strangers.
Have a great day!