Of the things to forget, a bra is not one

I have attempted to write several things today. But, it's one of those days where I am at a loss of great words, wisdom or even wittiness.
What I have today is short. However, I hope you find the information useful - like a piece of advice you can store in your mental closet of "never do that".

I forgot to wear a bra to work.

I know right? How does a 31 year-old forget to wear a bra to work? A 31 year-old who is well-endowed? You wouldn't believe me if I told you. So the important information to remember here is that I, chubby girl, forgot to wear a freakin' bra. In the land of this crap only happens to me...it happened.

It wouldn't have been so bad if I were a secretary or something not so mobile. But I am working at a famous chain restaurant (which, come to think of it would have served as a benefit if I worked at Hooters) where wearing a bra is...um...of utmost importance. But by the time I realized I didn't have the bra in the backseat of my car like I thought I did... wow. I just realized how scandalous that sounded. But I promise you - it's so not scandalous. The truth of the matter is, I wish that was the reason I had a bra in the backseat of my car. But the truth is way less, um, sexy. The truth is that I am one of those "I could live in my car" girls and along with three purses, countless pairs of shoes, a few bath towels, a Caboodles make-up case and random jewelry, I was sure I left a sports bra in my backseat after changing from a workout.

I was clearly mistaken.

So, I spent the night sweating like a pig at work due to a lack of support for Thelma and Louise. I made many bathroom trips to grab a few napkins and pat dry. (Don't worry, I totally washed my hands every time...I mean, 80 percent of the time. Kidding.) Luckily our work shirts are a starchy, heavy material that doesn't have good "see through" powers. Otherwise, I'd just be mortified. And also, I did have a tight fitting tank top that sorta disguised my bra-less look I had going on. And just in case anyone (how dare they!) asked about my new "look", I was going to respond with a totally untruthful story about how I had a non-cancerous knot removed on my boob and was unable to wear a bra. I shouldn't have spent so much time concocting the whole lie of a story, but I had to cover all my bases. Because saying, "I forgot to put one on" just wouldn't suffice. Why couldn't I have forgotten socks? Or something borrow-able? But, me? I had to forget a bra. It's not like I could just walk up to my boss and say, "Hey, I forgot my bra. Got one I can borrow for the night? We look about the same size."
Geez. Sometimes I feel, and act, just like a 12 year old.