Privilege is a headache you don't know you don't have
It's been a What Katy Did "Horseshoe" day. A day in which a lot of little oversights and coincidences and fuckups have combined together to have Consequences. Not just mine, but pretty much everyone in my life today. I had to go into work early, and when my blood sugar began to dip, it turned out we were going to be understaffed all evening. So I worked through a crash, which was interesting.
It's a day of little fuckups, and not just mine. Of spilled milk and making the wrong drink. Of going upstairs and forgetting what you went for. Of choosing the moment when your gloved hands are covered in raw bleach to push your shirt sleeves back.
Yeah, that one was me.
I was fairly resigned about it when it happened, but it's more serious than I like to let on- I have to wear all black at work, you see, and this was one of the very very few black tops I own with January-suitable long sleeves that don't have big bat flaily-ness. It's partly that I'm a crap goth, partly that clothes rarely suit me,but mostly that I hate clothes shopping with a firey vengeance so don't have any clothes anyway, but now I'm stuck to layering tops over my cobweb longsleeve or wearing the very very little warp around shirt or - meh, trying the charity shops tomorrow. I just got paid. I don't want to spend the money I'll have left after rent on clothes. I was planning to spend it on food.
It's not the end of the world, and I'm not crying about it. But it's annoying and saddening at the same time. Apart from anything else, it's also one of my favourite tops. It fits well, covers my mushroom top, and my boobs look fabulous in it.
And on top of all that, going into work early means I missed Bing before she wandered fo to New York to hang out with the Boxed Set.
Overall. Meh.