So I've taken to trotting around Bethesda like I own the place. Head held high, hair flowing in the sun, the slack in the hip of my grey workpants demonstrating the 10 hours of racquetball I've played this week, a wide, confident strut, one black shoe and one navy shoe... *screech!* Wait. What?!?
Yup, I pulled a Shane. See, people, this is why I need at least 8 hours of sleep. I'm talking at least eight hours. Yeah yeah, it was a very important (potentially life-changing) conversation that kept me up until the wee hours, but we must keep these things in perspective. I'm just no good on 5.5 hours of sleep! Any less than that and I'm likely to show up for work without pants. And that's not good for anyone. Anyone at all.