Stupid Things I Have Done Today

Bearing in mind that my day is just more than three hours-old:

To the Lady at the 7th Avenue F Train Stop: I am sorry. I thought I recognized you. You have the same haircut and eyes as my friend Hooly's roommate, beyond that I cannot say, as your face was obscured by a Kleenex. The face I made at you was meant to suggest, "Hey Lara, fancy meeting you underground at 7:30am, which is odd because I'm here everyday at this time and I've never seen you here before." My mouth was open, not to convey repulsion, but because I was about to say something along those very lines. I see now that my facial expression could have been interpreted as shocked disguist. Really, there was no booger hanging off your chin. Sorry for the confusion.

To the Lady getting out of the Elevator in my office building this morning: I am sorry. An Elevator is a means of transportation. Just because I am confronted with a large shiny surface does not mean I am alone in the dressing room at Ann Taylor and can explore possible areas of fat expansion in private. No one wants to have the elevator doors open and find themselves inches from me, grabbing my own ass, and making concerned faces, even if it is 10am and you have managed to get a few cups of coffee down already. Thank you for averting your eyes and scurrying off.