Splitting My Pants Was The Highlight of My Day May 8, 2008

Damn. I just gave away the punch line.

That’s OK, because it really is a funny story.

So anyway, yesterday was really and truly the worst work day I have had in a long long time. Like, bad in comic and epic proportions. From getting there almost late (because I realized I had a 1:30 meeting at 1:20 instead of my usual 2 pm start time), to a loooooonnnnnnnngggggg inservice meeting which then set my routine schedule back by two hours, to a meeting in which basically we all got our asses chewed for two hours because my boss had had it and handles that about as well as I do, to a sudden admission and two hours for ME to do it in, except that right as I got started I had another medical emergency come up which ate up an hour, two MY two aides both leaving at 9 pm instead of 10 pm, and the other two unable to help me because the entire place had gone pretty much nucking futs by then, so that took another hour away from me doing MY job.

So I got out of there a little after midnight, instead of at 10:30. And I get really cranky - and worried about my dogs at home alone - by that time.

So - yeah - I was getting grumpier and pissier by the minute. And then comes the supper hour - a 90 minute span in which it is, under normal circumstances, flat out balls to the wall. And today, obviously, it was ballsier and wallsier.

And then it happened.

See, I wear my scrubs two sizes too big deliberately, because somehow it is always me that ends up crawling under beds and doing stuff that requires a little extra agility and freedom of movement. And I’ve only gotten stuck UNDER a malfunctioning electric bed ONCE!

But if you’ve ever worn loose fitting thin cotton pants before, you know there is a requisite maneuver that ALWAYS has to precede such squatting and bending and assorted gymnastics. Because the crotch of the pants hangs about mid-thigh, it means that EVERY TIME you have to start the movement with this little hitch thing to pull them up a little.

Which is no problem because it’s pretty much automatic for me after years of this strategy.

Until today.

A sudden calling to squat, I forgot, and RRRRIIIIPPPPP.

In a crowded dining room full of a good two thirds of the people in the building at the present time.

“Nuh uh,” say I. I contort myself around to look at my crotch.

“Sonofabitch” I say then. Yep. Crotchless scrubs.

Now, beings as they are two sizes too big, no one can see that but me. But between the telltale RRRRIIIIPPPPP sound and me suddenly laughing hysterically, yeah, everyone knew about it in two point three.

Remember, I subscribe to the belief that if it’s funny, it musy be shared. No matter if it’s humiliating to me or anyone else - especially me. Funny trumps all. Guess who else believes the same thing? Hehehehehehehe

Because seriously - if you were having “the worst work day you’d had in a long time” - wouldn’t splitting the crotch right out of your pants be the absolute topper to an already ridiculous day?

Wouldn’t you take it as some kind of sign?

Maybe you had to be there?