For a long, long time, I was certain either I am built drastically crooked, or Old Navy has a serious deficiency in every one of its tank tops.
Let me explain. All my tank tops sit on a slant, like one strap is considerably longer than the other. Because Alberta is cold, and school buildings are a chilly place to work for most of the year, I essentially live in cardigans with a tank or pretty camisole underneath. Some of my undershirts are so crooked that the part that shows in the center of my sweater is noticeably tilted. This issue only affects my tank tops, since the most of my camis have adjustable straps, but I have been at an utter loss for what to do about my sleeveless tops. To complicate the mystery, every one of my crooked shirts tilt the same way.
It all came together for the me last Thursday morning. I’m used to stumbling around in the early hours, waiting for a more humane number on the clock to start feeling like a real person; I rarely notice the state I’m in when my feet hit the floor. I don’t know what was different on Thursday, but I was wide awake and ready to get moving even before the alarm started.
Thursday I woke up in the tank top I wore to bed. To describe it more accurately, I woke up completely wound in my tank top. It was like the shirt stayed in one spot and I spun like a top in my sleep. I’m well aware I am a restless sleeper (and I definitely had crazy dreams the night before) and the proof was in my seriously twisted tank. Apparently, I only toss in a counter-clockwise direction. The strap on my left shoulder was stretched way out of shape by my active dreaming, the same way all my tank tops seem to be. A lightbulb burst into brightness in my brain.
Lesson: pajamas are for sleeping, and tank tops are for wearing in the day time. Stay tuned for next week, when this super sleuth figures out why so many of her socks are lonely.
copyright 2012: http://bluespeckledpup.com