I've been curiously peering around the office today at people's attire. Jeans. All over. Everyone is wearing jeans. And I'm thinking, "It's Friday. We must get to wear jeans on Fridays. Hallelujah!"
So, I quietly peek over into my assistant editor's cubicle to ask. She's not wearing jeans, so I'm curious. Then again, she's highly fashionable, so maybe jeans just don't work their way into her wardrobe, whereas I am neither fashionable nor rich, so jeans are my staple.
And then she tells me the best news of my life.
"We don't really have a dress code here. Really, wear whatever you want."
Question mark? Whatever I want! Of course, that does not include the obvious, like ripped jeans, Metallica t-shirts or racing sausage costumes, but jeans do apply.
I CAN WEAR JEANS.
And not just Fridays. Tuesdays, even! Yesterday! Monday!
I swear to God, heaven hath shined its light upon me just now.
I am a little leery, of course. I mean, people wear jeans other days of the week, but not always. It's sort of like getting permission to throw your peanut shells on the floor at the bar, at a bar where peanuts are served.
Really? I can just THROW them on the floor? And make a mess? And nobody cares?
So what I'll do is just take a handful of peanut shells, and nonchalantly, and very carefully, drop them under the table so no one notices.
I'm not sure how I'll carefully and nonchalantly wear jeans on a Wednesday, but this is going to be good.