The people I work with have all commented on how I seem to be in an extraordinarily chipper mood today as I have been whistling a good portion of the time I�ve been walking around.Not being an overtly chipper kinda gal, I thought about this for a second and replayed a few key portions of my day:
Get up to retrieve a fax � whistling.
Get up for more coffee � whistling.
Walking to the meeting �whistling.
I had indeed been whistling a good portion of the day.
Was I actually turning my frown upside down? Was furrowed brow coming permanently unpressed? Was my sometimes dour outlook on life turning into a little ray o� sunshine?
Could it be?
I pondered this startling new revelation while I walked to the other side of the office to retrieve some paperwork�
swish swish swish
Stop walking.
Silence.
Start walking.
swish swish swish
Stop.
Silence.
Start.
swish
Stop.
Start.
swish.
Oh dear.
You see, gentle reader, it didn�t take long for me to realize on this short trip I was not actually teetering on the cusp of Pollyana-dome, as one would hope.
I was� in fact, wearing loud pants.
These new tailored pants - a blend of rayon, nylon and cotton - although quite stylish and khaki army green in color - were making quite the racket when I wandered �round the old office.
And I am beginning to think this unconscious whistling was my attempt to drown out the commotion comin� from the pants.
I�ll keep you posted.
I know you worry.