Streak Week

So, I've made it through the first day and am beginning a second day of a six week long bitch-slap fest at work. Yes, that's right...I get bitch-slapped for six weeks and I don't even have to pay for it. In fact, they pay me. I know, I know, "Where do I sign??" Trust me, you don't want this kind of bitch-slapping. You may remember me talking of it last year. And then, there's always perspective to calm my mellow dramatic ass down.

Well, another year has flown by and I'm back for more.

I think that if I trade my present attire of shorts, tee-shirts and running shoes for my old Coast Guard digs and accessories, I may not get "bitch-slapped" so readily. What do you think?

You can't tell, but we're all wearing heels in that photo. No less than hot lipstick red. And a best bud of mine, Deb, and myself wearing our do-rags in Port-O-Potty, Haiti back in the 90's. You like? Sassy, huh? Oh wait a minute, did I say "Port-O-Potty"?? I, of course meant, Port Au Prince. You're wondering where the boa is, aren't you? It's under the flak jacket.

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to run in heels with all that gear?

So, I think that I should either go with the combat get-up, or go for broke.

Either way, in the end, I'll invariably be carried away wearing nothing.

I'll try to post just as regularly. This week will no doubt be the worst. So, if I don't show for a couple of days, forgive me,

I may be attempting to streak through a field.

Anyone with me???