Normally, this would have irritated me, save two things:
1) This coat literally caused a fashion emergency in Vegas. Only my boyfriend would be as straight as he is (he's basically 1 degree away from being a lumberjack, no offense to gay lumberjacks) and have a fashion emergency. Long story, we had the coat shipped in from California.
2) I had something to show off too. (See below)
Did you watch The Jersey Shore? If you didn't, that was dumb. It was an awesome good/bad/so bad it's good MTV trash show. There is one clown in particular on this show you should be aware of--Mike. Mike the Situation.
Would you like to know why he is called Mike The Situation? Of course you would.
Wait for it at 12 seconds. That's his "Situation." Literally, people, his abs are a situation and he calls himself Mike The Situation because of his freakish abs.
Back to point 2 of why I didn't mind that Chadd woke me up.
Folks. The Realist has a situation. It's not enough of a situation to be capitalized like properly named abs or be called "The" anything...but it's a freaking situation! I HAVE A SITUATION, HERE!
I'm almost at the point where I need a unique nickname for my developing situation. Like "the business" or something. Suggestions are welcome.
I went to bed prepared in a sports bra and running shorts. I wouldn't exactly say that I "hopped" out of bed, but once Chadd managed to get me to open my eyes and get out of bed to see his coat in the gleaming light of the kitchen it suddenly dawned on me why I was freezing to death instead of wearing sweats.
"Look at my situation," I told him.
I was praised adequately and sent back to bed where I fell asleep in less than 1 minute. If I get a big enough ego, I'm posting pictures.