On the agenda for today: procure reasonably priced and reasonably attractive work clothing.

Yes. On Monday, I am starting a new job that I am unreasonably excited about.

(I am also unreasonably nervous to the point of pants-peeing, but let’s not focus on that right now.)

As of late, I had been sort of, well, vague about what is happening in my life. I don’t know if you have noticed. You probably haven’t. But, I have been gearing up to make a huge change in my life. For the past [insert a large-ish number of months here] I have been a work at home mom, or WAHM, if you must. But, I kind of loathe that acronym. I gave up my heels and my nanny for some time to drive carpool and wear yoga pants every day. It was kind of amazing. But, if there’s one thing I have learned in my almost 33 years on this planet it is this: Life is unpredictable; always expect the unexpected.

And something unexpected came my way.

And on Monday morning, I will putting on my heels and getting on the subway at Finch station for my morning commute. I will spend my work hours in an office building with actual people who will require me to put on some pants. I will no longer be throwing in a load of laundry while checking my work email while helping Emily with homework while using my kegels to hold in my pee while helping Isabella change into her ballerina costume while helping Josh pass a level on Angry Birds Rio. I will be doing a very different kind of juggling.

I cannot wait to tell you all about it.

But first…PANTS!

So, today I went to Jacob, thinking that I would have a productive hour or so picking out some lovely spring wardrobe essentials. Hoo boy was I wrong.

“Are you looking for something specific?”

“No, thanks. I’m just looking.”

“Can I recommend this dress? It’s just lovely!”

“No thanks. I’m really just looking.”

“Oh, I see you are looking at our two-toned cardigan. We just got that in. We have it in three colors. Do you want me to show them to you?”

“No thanks. I’m just looking.”

“Can I start a fitting room for you?”

“I actually don’t have anything in my hands yet.”

“Oh, but aren’t you going to try on that cardigan?”

“I’m just going to look around, if that’s okay with you.”

“I see you are looking at our new orange dress. Do you want to try the yellow one too?”

“No thanks. I have a yellow dress. I’m pretty sure one is enough.”

OMGIWANTTOSTABWITHWOMANINTHEEARANDPUNCHHERINTHENECK.

STOPTALKING.

I didn’t love the cardigan or the orange dress. I didn’t love the other two dresses I tried on either. Just, well, not for me.

“Oh, you aren’t going to buy anything?”

“Nope. Not today. Thanks.”

“Not even the orange dress?”

“No. Not even the orange dress.”

“Was it a size problem?”

“No, I just don’t want to buy it.”

“Did it not fit properly? Do you want to try it in the yellow?”

“I am going to go and spend my money at RW&Co. And not ever come back here until you are fired.”

For the record, This ENTIRE conversation happened, word for word, save for the last line. I said that one in my head. But I really wanted to say them out loud. Because there is a fine line between HELPING somebody when they want to be helped, and being so pushy that you literally push them straight out of the door.

RW&Co should probably send this lady a thank you note for her giant commission today.