It's happened. I've been spending enough time around Amanda and I've been spending enough time talking with her specifically about this project and all it entails, that she's become a voice in my head.
On Tuesday I didn't have anything I had to look especially nice for, so I dressed down a bit - black jeans, white socks, my non-fancy black shoes, striped long-sleeve Tshirt, and a pony tail. As I stood in front of the mirror pulling my hair back, I could hear Amanda in my head, tsking my choice. "Those jeans?" She said. "You're going to work in those jeans? They've got a bleach spot!" Hands across her chest, she shook her head.
On Wednesday I wore slacks.
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