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hard outer shell

So I went shopping today with Saucy for a pro-fesh-un-all style coat for all of my upcoming conferencing and whatnot, and was savagely denied by the great and powerful Cape Cod Mall.

Not only was the selection poor, but the few coats I liked weren't availble in my size. NOT EVEN in my recently reduced, 20-pounds-lighter size. So Saucy and I went and ate omelettes and were ruded to by the trailer trash busgirl, which we - at least I - found tremendously unfulfilling, despite the pronounced wonderfulness of the omelettes.

So we sat and gabbed in the car a while, griping about how unseasonably hot it is and wishing we could take a nap without having to go to all the trouble of driving home first. And I drove home, fully intending to fall into bed on top of a pile of freshly laundered t-shirts, when I suddenly was seized with disappointment at not having found the coat I wanted and went online in search of fulfillment.

And I found it - not the perfect coat, but the perfectly good coat:

perfectly good coat

and ordered it on the spot. I won't have it in time for all my conferencing and vacationing next week, but I will have it for all the conferencing coming up later in the month and throughout the winter.

Really, how can you expect to be taken seriously if you don't even have a decent coat?

And it's a London Fog, so my mother will be pleased. In her world, it doesn't get any more posh than a London Fog coat.