Out of the closet.

My current friends don't really believe I used to have a real job. They do seem to think it's reasonable that I used to work at an animal shelter, wearing jeans and scooping poop, but suits, panty hose, fake nails and brushed hair? Not likely.

I agree it does even seem strange to me at times. Much of my past life, save my good friend Shari, has vanished. With one exception. For some strange reason, I have kept one skirt suit. It's a very blue short skirt and fitted matched blazer. I don't know why I kept that one. I have no where to wear it and it doesn't even fit me. Or so I thought. Yesterday, while having some mommy quiet time in the back house, I saw it hanging there...all alone and thought...what the heck. I tried it on. It fit. Amazing. I haven't worn it since my days at the the Federal Reserve Bank. Which is 15 years. Maybe I'll wear it for my mom friends one day and freak them out. Since I don't want any of them to fall over dead, I won't do my nails or wear heels.