Last week, I met with my boss (one of my bosses, I should say) to request a promotion to Senior Adjunct Status.
I had to go to the Far Away Campus for the meeting, and the administrative building is laid out in a rather infuriating, honeycomb type of pattern that leaves hapless adjuncts wandering around in circles.
(Then again, maybe it’s just me?)
Since it was too cold to wear my beige suit (because my only beige shoes are open toe), I went for gray dress pants, a black turtleneck sweater and black blazer, set off with about six million red accessories.
The accessories weren’t a problem until I had to go to the bathroom. The secretary sent me to the “faculty only” bathroom (about which, having never before experienced the joys of an exclusive toilet reserved for the elites of the community college world, I was quite excited).
But then I discovered that the “faculty only” bathroom was actually rather antiquated. And there was nowhere to hang my purse. Or my hat. Or my jacket.
So I did the only sensible thing a woman in my position could do: knelt down to pile my six million accessories into a neat pile on the floor then stood up and smashed the top of my head into the corner of a rusty tampon dispenser mounted to the wall.
I didn’t realize my head was bleeding until about six hours later.
Which means yes, I sat there in the dean’s office pleading my case for Senior Adjunct Status while my brains were oozing out of my head.
On the bright side, I did manage to maintain the utmost color coordination throughout the entire process. (Good thing my power color is red.)