Me. Working on Sunday.
I have to confess. I’m rugged like Sean Connery with Dolly Parton hair right now. In the process of growing it out to donate, it gets to that stage where it pretty much “does what it wants” and we’ve reached that stage. Add in the humidity that’s beginning to seep back into my life, and “poof” it’s my hair.
I’m sporting my favorite flannel shirt right now that was mostly clean when I put it on after I showered after I went to yoga, did laundry, and grabbed some coffee before coming into the office where I’m probably not going to change anyone’s life today.
EXCEPT for this one UNDERGRAD.
Who is in on Sunday’s as well for her part time job.
And reminded me last week what a mess I was looking like.
And once again reminded me again today.
And I told her to go play in traffic.
Listen students. We don’t have an endless supply of clean khaki’s. Well, I don’t. I don’t like wearing them every day. This flannel shirt is pretty awesome. The pants I’m wearing are at least a size too big, making them extremely comfortable.
Back to my hair: it’s a mess. I washed it. I combed it. I didn’t do anything else to it. BECAUSE IT’S SUNDAY.
I’m clean. I’m dressed. What more do these kids want?
I know what I want: summer.
No working on Sunday’s during the summer.