Pressing Matters

There's something poking my boob from inside my bra.

I suspect it’s a cracker crumb. It’s usually a cracker crumb. I mean it’s not a persistent issue but yes, it's been known to happen from time to time. One poor choice this morning, and I’m wearing a shift dress with no easy access to the boobal region. There’s no convenient, sly way to get in there and poke around. My laziness prevents me from journeying to the bathroom for a proper frisking.

Instead, I've been playing Russian roulette for the past hour, shifting around and jabbing a finger down the front of my dress, but it’s only a matter of time before someone comes along and I'm once again that weird receptionist who puts her hands in her clothing.