No, a homeless person didn�t lay spoons with me while I napped. What happened was way worse.

I napped lazily in the sunshine, enjoying the 70 degree weather, and quietly cursing each time a cloud got in the way. When the clouds passed and the sun reappeared, I squenched my eyes tighter, slowly acclimating them to the bright red shade that was beneath my eye lids.

No, a bird crapping on me didn�t wake me up. It was even worse than that.

The sun warmed my face, my clothes, and my bones as my breaths grew deeper. The outside sounds were muffled, and my own thoughts were all that remained.

No, I didn�t sleep straight through lunchtime, returning to work at 3 p.m. That would have been overlooked as long as I worked my 40 hours.

When the bells chimed that 1 p.m. was approaching, I stretched myself and stood up, only to feel a breeze in the lower regions. I grabbed at my khaki�s zipper, trying to quickly and discreetly zip it back up, only to find that the zipper was broken.

And since I�m perennially commando, it was my bare ass being smacked by the wind.

I pulled my shirt over the spilt and held onto my lower back as if I had an old sports injury that was aggravated by my nap on the hard rock as I walked the block back to my building.

Of course there were people in the elevator. Of course they were all men. Of course they were likely to check my caboose out when I walked out onto my floor.

I held tightly, made small talk, and side-shuffled my way out the sliding doors, only to return to my desk and wrap my fleece tightly around myself. Right now I�m so thankful that I brought in this fleece two days ago. What better timing could I have had?�