That feeling when you’re hopped up on cold medications to begin with, a ton short on sleep, but you’re trying to pull it together as you get cleaned up in the morning, dressed, and out the door and on the one hand you’re trying to do the normal morning routine but on the other hand your brain is already thinking about the meeting that you’re about to be late to so you put on that nice suit and shirt and tie and grab something to eat and your briefcase and you’re just reaching for the door when some teeny-tiny voice that’s been running your procedural checklist albeit a bit slowly in the back of your cerebellum says…
“Did you put on deodorant?”
Of course you scoff and carry on and have one foot out the door when that voice says, “No, really. I’m looking at the checklist and I don’t remember doing that. This could be a problem.”
Still scoffing you close the door behind you and start to lock it when that voice says, “Fine, be that way. It will be just like that time you forgot to listen to me about which airport we were flying out of.”
So you go back inside, drop the suitcase, as fast as humanly possible while running back to the bedroom you strip off the suit coat, the tie, the shirt, the T-shirt and find…
…that everyone downwind of you in the office is going to thank you all afternoon for listening to that little voice. Even if you are five minutes late.
Blame the cold medicine.
Or the rain.
Or the idiots out driving in the rain.
But never, ever tell anyone the real story.