The last two days of work have been really neat and really different. I've been able to spend a lot of time off the phones (a special treat to be sure) decorating the customer service quarter for Halloween. it makes me so happy to see all the spiderwebs and ghosts and bats. And a coworker has set up a witch's altar right in the entryway. Yeah, I'm pretty fucking stoked. When not decorating I've been working with my bosses to figure out my new schedule as well as helping with an outreach project that combined my bubbly phone skills and my writing skills. I got to speak to notable members of the community to ask them for quotable opinions about the paper. It was kind of nerve-wracking and kind of a blast.
Also a gentleman from Seattle sent some copies of a paper from 1889! They were from way back before the Spokesman-Review was actually the Spokesman-Review. Before it was the Spokesman and the Chronicle. This paper was titled Spokane Falls Review and even though we are pretty sure these are special reprints (still really cool even if they are) there is some debate as to whether or not they could possibly be originals!
On my way home from work today... well let me start with the fact that due to construction my bus stop is two blocks down from where it normally is so I was already thrown a bit off as I made my way. I missed the bus. Saw it drive off while I was too many steps away to try and stop it. No worries though because there was another coming shortly. While I waited I called Hannah and before it was due, there came the bus, but I was seated in front of the financial building and too far away to hail it.
As I walked dumbfounded toward the now departing bus, I missed a step off the terrace and did the thing that no fat girl ever wants to do in public ever. I fell flat on my face. Scraped up my left knee (which was already injured by way of a strained IT-band) and twisted my right leg a little. Mostly though it was my pride that hurt. Did I mention I was wearing a skirt? I also had on red underwear. But I hardly need to tell you that since my skirt flopped up and onto my back and gave the entire world a lovely view of my panties. I'm on my period too. Thank the gods I was wearing red panties.
As I walked dumbfounded toward the now departing bus, I missed a step off the terrace and did the thing that no fat girl ever wants to do in public ever. I fell flat on my face. Scraped up my left knee (which was already injured by way of a strained IT-band) and twisted my right leg a little. Mostly though it was my pride that hurt. Did I mention I was wearing a skirt? I also had on red underwear. But I hardly need to tell you that since my skirt flopped up and onto my back and gave the entire world a lovely view of my panties. I'm on my period too. Thank the gods I was wearing red panties.
Anyway, no sooner had I stood back up, lying in my assurances to passersby that I was "fine, fine, I'm really fine," did the tears start pouring. I was still on the phone with Hannah. Through all of it I had managed to hold onto my phone and keep the call. So I whimpered to her, "I just fell. Hard. And I'm really not okay." All of this was said through tiny hiccups and sniffles and sobs. Hannah said she'd come get me. I'm really thankful she offered. The last thing I wanted in that moment was to wait for the next bus to drive off without me.
I told her I didn't want her to hit the construction so I started down Sprague. I was so angry/embarrassed that I walked all the way to the Starbucks at the corner of Division and Second. It was over a mile which (for a fat girl who just skinned her knee and executed her pride) was a decent jaunt. I walk to the bus stop in the mornings most days but even that is only three quarters of a mile. So I was proud despite my resonating utter horror. Red panties. Just... red panties. Shocking that I'm so upset really considering what an exhibitionist I am.
I told her I didn't want her to hit the construction so I started down Sprague. I was so angry/embarrassed that I walked all the way to the Starbucks at the corner of Division and Second. It was over a mile which (for a fat girl who just skinned her knee and executed her pride) was a decent jaunt. I walk to the bus stop in the mornings most days but even that is only three quarters of a mile. So I was proud despite my resonating utter horror. Red panties. Just... red panties. Shocking that I'm so upset really considering what an exhibitionist I am.
On the way to the meeting place I did find some solace in our city's art. I've seen these things hundreds of times but today I felt the need to document them. Both of them are on Sprague as you go east toward Division. Giant marmot and River Park Square Michelangelo (as I have dubbed them.)
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