My bra is trying to eat my left boob.
And that's the least of my worries.
Ever since a co-worker was in a "bad wreck" where Karma so appropriately bit her in the ass for being on a two-hour non-working lunch, she feels the need to do what I have dubbed "The Dance of the Wicked" anytime she thinks I am looking at her. She leaves for hours on end for "Doctor's Appointments" and then comes back to the office, arching her back, placing her hands on the small of her back to support it and then twists and turns like a fish on a hook with this pained look on her face.
I'm not buying it.
One day, soon after her "traumatizing" wreck, she parked her rental car thisclose to mine. The only way for her to extricate herself from her car would have been to climb over the passenger seat and exit through the other side. I don't see how someone visiting a massage therapist and a chiropractor for "immense back pain" could have done such automobile gymnastics.
And people wonder why W.V. is the #1 place for frivilous lawsuits...