A little help here?
The need to be a good role model.
Health and Safety considerations.
So reads the section of the handbook from my new job devoted to the dress code in the office. Helpful, isn't it?
It isn't helpful at all. As if I don't have enough to worry about on my first day, what with vague anxiety about where I'm supposed to be, whether I can get there on time, what to have in my sandwiches, whether my colleagues will suss my psychotic tendencies in the first ten minutes...all that. I mean, it doesn't exactly lay it on the line, does it? Admittedly, when I went for the interview, the girl that showed me through was wearing a vest top, shorts and flip flops, which showcased her extensive tattoos perfectly. Everyone else looked sort of casual too, so maybe it's casual wear? Except, what if it was dress-down day? And even if it is casual wear, what are the boundaries? Where I work now, we're not supposed to wear trainers on dress-down day. What if I show up in jeans and trainers and it's all wrong? What if I wear normal office wear and it's all wrong? What if I trip over the step and skid into the office on my face, splitting my trousers in the process and showing my pants to everyone? Why do I worry about such ridiculous things?
In other news, I am about to get on my mountain bike for the first time in two years so that I can get to fat club*. I am not entirely convinced by the never-forgetting part of riding a bike, but I do recall that it makes my legs hurt. Why is life so complicated?
UPDATE: Riding a bike, running - that'll be two completely different sets of muscles then. I hate riding a bike. Hate it. There is not one single redeeming feature. It makes your legs hurt. It makes you out of breath. It is wobbly, and hot, and it fucking sucks. I thought I hated running but when I'm lumbering round the block at six o'clock tomorrow morning, gasping for breath and thinking about ringing for a taxi to take me the three hundred yards home, I will instead be grateful that I am not riding my bike. And to think, I sold my car all full of oh, I can ride my bike to my new job. Why did I do that? Why? At least there's enough in the kitty for 500cc or so of two-wheeled entertainment...but that's another story.
* Lost twenty pounds since May! Woo!