My psychic powers kick ass!

Normally, at work, if I'm cold I'll adjust the a/c up a degree or two. Problem solved!

Or, if Other Office Chick is in the office, we take turns messing with the thermostat. When I get cold I turn it up a few degrees. When she feels stuffy and claustrophobic, the a/c gets dialed down a couple of degrees and I try not to freeze.

Normally, this isn't a big deal.

Normally, sure, I'll get cold, but hey, at least I'm not working outside! I suck it up, continue on with my work, and wait for Other Office Chick to go out for lunch or head to a meeting so I can bump the a/c up again.

Normally, this isn't a situation that would compel me to put pen to paper fingers to keyboard.

Today though, today I was freakishly cold. The a/c was hovering around 74 degrees but to me it felt like 64. I tried blaming it on my wet hair, but I've had wet hair before and I've never felt so cold in a really-not-that-cold room. I felt almost flu-like cold. I'm not sick, thank Elvis, but for some reason... well, there was just something plain wrong with me.

I was going to suffer being so freakishly cold for no good reason but then I thought, 'Dang it! I have a sweatshirt in the car! That's why its there!' and decided not to be a lazy ass and make the small hike to the car.

The sweatshirt has been in the car since last winter. During the cold season I wear a sweater/sweatshirt every day in the office because yes, even in winter these silly office coworkers like to turn the a/c on. I left the sweatshirt in the car in case I needed it one day, and I've thought on a couple of occasions over the last few weeks, 'Hey! I'm cold! Maybe I should go get it!'

But then I think about how hot it is outside and realize staying inside is a much better idea. And eventually I forget that it's cold. And then Other Office Chick leaves and I can set the thermostat back to a more comfortable level.

But today... something compelled me to go outside and grab the sweatshirt.

And after I did? Well, it was so hot outside I quickly got over my cold spell. My hair dried up. I got super warm. And by the time I returned to the office I was no longer in need of a sweatshirt.

'Oh well,' I thought, and chalked it up to a nice mini diversion from work.

And then three hours later my pants ripped.

I'm not talking about a little tear either.

I think they heard the horrible rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrripping sound all the way in the next county.

The hole in my pants is almost too big for my hand to cover, as if I wanted to walk around with my hand over my ass for the next few hours.

Holy crap, if I didn't have my sweatshirt I don't know what I'd do!

Wear my pants backwards and hold some object in front of the massive hole?

"Oh, hi, don't mind me! I'm just carrying this empty box out to my car in a really weird way. Thanks for not looking too closely at my pants!"

I don't know what Other Office Chick was thinking after she heard the rrrrrrrrrrripping noise. Two rrrrrrripping noises actually, as I moved too fast in my chair in a 'what the hell?' kind of move that made the pants rip again. Did she think I farted? Does she know the sound of ripping pants and know that I do indeed have a huge hole in the ass of my pants now?

Can this day be over already so I can go home, throw these pants away, and pretend this never happened?

Stupid pants. :(

But hey! I've got psychic powers now apparently. Because that's too much of a coincidence to be anything else. The one time I go out to my car for the sweatshirt is the one time I tear a big ass hole where the left cheek pocket used to be. What are the odds?!

Stupid pants. :(