There is a woman at my work who wears a Snuggie. A Snuggie! At work! I thought I was hallucinating! I saw her next to the printer out of the corner of my eye one day and thought, I could swear that woman is wearing a Snuggie. I figured it must be a really ugly floor-length coat, and if it was a Snuggie I did not want that knowledge to corrupt my edited version of reality, so I chose not to move my line of vision.
The next day, however, I was in a meeting and reality was unavoidable, zebra-striped and enveloping the woman nonchalantly sipping her coffee! I looked at her, and looked around -- is anyone else seeing this?! Apparently I was the only one cursed with magic Snuggievision, as it seemed to be invisible to everyone else. I have to admit, my initial reaction was jealousy: How is she getting away with this? Then I came to my senses. No one should be wearing a Snuggie in their own home, much less in public, least of all in a professional setting! It wasn't even casual Friday, not that that would excuse it. If you're going to wear a blanket with sleeves to work, why even get dressed at all?! Just come in your pajamas and bring your pillow while you're at it.
I am seriously tempted to file an incident report: Non-compliance... with the dress code. What is wrong with people? Have we no sense of propriety? Can you imagine this being acceptable anywhere but Eugene?
I was soon distracted from this atrocity by the task at hand. We were going around the room and introducing ourselves by name and what we did. Nancy Black, Enrollment Specialist. John Berry, Customer Service. The line was progressing quickly in my direction. This gave alarm, and I tried to think of what to say... Abra Hagans, Perma-temp? Abra Hagans, Data Entry? Abra Hagans, I Print Stuff? Then the lady that sits next to me said Claims, and I realized that was probably mine too. "Claims," I claimed with a straight face. I adjust claims. And I enforce compliance.