I thought I was maybe gonna have a decent day - the SAM (stupid-ass meeting) was short and fairly uneventful. But then, as I was walking back to my office, I felt...drafty...really drafty. I realized that I have a HUGE split in the back seam of my dress, centered around the, um, most boodylicious area of my anatomy. The World's Greatest Boss swears he didn't notice it as I walked to the conference room in front of him so we could begin the SAM, or any of the times I left the SAM to fetch files. If he's being honest, that means my dress tore at some point during the SAM and I did not under any circumstances flash everyone on Peachtree Street this morning as I walked from car to office. He'd tell me the truth, right? RIGHT? RIGHT???

MONTOYA DELENDA EST!