Oh, it wasn't me. I'm sure someone did, though. That's why I asked you to guess.
JUST KIDDING! It WAS me. And this means that I actually got up early enough to do it (7:30 am), so it was a major feat.
Actually, the feat is two-fold: I got up early and also got up the nerve to wear my yoga pants outside of my apartment. And that really is a pretty big deal, considering the size of my posterior.
The pants, they are clingy. My behind, she is large.
Now, I could walk to work in my work clothes, but then I'd be really gross and sweaty by the time I got there. And it is no fun to go through the day trying to keep your arms at your sides so that you don't offend anyone with your sweaty armpits. No, it's just best to walk to work in yoga pants and a tee shirt and then change at the office.
Also, if I didn't walk in the yoga pants, I wouldn't get all the delightful comments. For instance, this morning on 51st and 6th, I got "Oh, Mami!" And then on 48th and 3rd I got a grunt. Of appreciation for la derrierre grande? I'm not sure. On the way home this evening, I got "(something unintelligible) pants!" from a classy gentleman driving by in a Jeep Cherokee. I'm not sure if it was an "excuse me ma'am, you look quite shapely in those pants" or "pardon me, I am looking for a birthday gift for my wife who is really into yoga - where did you get those pants?" Yeah, no. I'm pretty sure it was something to the effect of, "hey, bleepy bleep, how did you get that bleeping bleep into those bleeping pants?!"
Ah, New Yorkers. Charming.
Can't wait to do the whole thing all over again tomorrow.