ass on display

I walked around the office, for the most part of this morning, with the gusset of my pantyhose hanging below the hem of my skirt.

The ass of my stockings was hanging, with my bum inside it, out, of my skirt, for the total of 1200 people to look at.

For about 4 hours.

In the lunch queue. Going to the bathroom. Going outside for a smoke on the street. Oscillating between meeting rooms.

My ass. In navy pantyhose. Out.

I saw this in the mirror after going for a pee.

To top it off, looks like our dream house, the one I spoke about before Christmas; the one on the cute village road, just out of our budget, but we were making a plan, has gone off the market.

I am so disappointed I actually have no will left in me to view more houses. This house hunting malarky is soul destroying.

I want to move out of my digs, but I don't want to move twice.

I just want to cry and beat my fists on the walls and say FUCK over and over again and very loudly.

If we weren't going on [much needed and desperately seeking] annual leave next Friday, to a warm, tropical place where people wear triangle hats and plant rice in paddies, I'd surely throw a fit.