And the thing is, I was sitting in my office talking to my two male co-workers, so as soon as I felt the cold, hard bug (Probably a cricket! They're everywhere in this office!) hit my lower back, I thought, "Stay calm. STAY CALM. You cannot react to this. I repeat: YOU CANNOT PUT YOUR HAND DOWN YOUR PANTS RIGHT NOW."
Evidently the guys saw me immediately straighten up in my chair, eyes wide, because both of them looked at me quizzically and asked what was wrong.
"Uhhhh..." I began, inwardly freaking out that A BUG JUST FLEW DOWN MY PANTS AND I CAN'T GET IT OUT BECAUSE I AM ENTIRELY TOO PROFESSIONAL TO DANCE AROUND WITH MY HAND DOWN THE BACK OF MY PANTS AT WORK.
I mean, that's not all that high of a professional standard to set for yourself, really. Hands not in pants? CHECK. Am professional!
But, you know, A BUG! A BUG IS IN MY PANTS!
Oddly, it wasn't moving, so a thought popped in my head as I was trying to figure out what to tell the two confused men in my office. I felt around the ponytail in my hair and noticed that one of the bobby pins that I had placed there this morning was now absent.
And then I PRAISED THE LORD because there was no bug. A bobby pin had fallen out of my hair and down my (now loose because
But by that point, I still had to tell my co-workers what had happened - that there was a bobby pin down the back of my britches. Which... was awkward.
But I'm still going to count that as a professional and personal win.
Because (and you can file this under "lessons I never thought I'd learn at work"), admitting there's a bobby pin down your pants at work is better than having a bug fly down your pants and being caught trying to get it out.
And now I know.