Bra = Reason

This morning at around 6:30ish - the news was still on and Good Morning America hadn't yet started - I put on clothing.  I mean I got completely dressed. I put on a pink tee-shirt and denim shorts.  I even put on a torturous bra....geezo my boobs still hurt a LOT so putting on a bra is an actual ordeal.

I had to have had a reason for getting dressed, because if I can avoid putting on a bra, I will.  This reason must have included leaving the house, due to the presence of the bra. I refuse to be seen in public without a bra. Ever.

Apparently I laid back down in the nest shortly after getting dressed and went to sleep.  There is a quart of skim milk still sitting out on the counter from this morning.  (WTF? I never leave milk out.) And now, the reason I got dressed in the first place escapes me.

I MUST have had pressing business?  The bank?  no.  The doctor? no.  The pharmacy or dispensary? no.  I have gotten no phone calls saying, "You're late, bitch, wtf?" 

I tell you, the bra proves there was SOME reason...now if I can just think of it.  ::Pulls out clumps of hair ala Larry-the-Stooge::