A Day in the Life, Part 1: She Teaches a Class
I’m a communication project manager and copywriter. This year, because I’m a bit of a grammar nerd, I’ve been given a new responsibility: developing and delivering writing classes for our employees. Some are tailored for a department, while another is a grammar/writing course for our corporate masses. I started a series of writing courses yesterday tailored for our facility services department. Their manager has made it a requirement, so I’ll teach it every Thursday this month.
The first class went well. My students were some of my favorite people in that group — the head of fleet services, the head of our copy center and the cafeteria, one of our receptionists, and two of our hardworking service guys. We covered the basics of writing a clear, simple sentence, then dove into writing a good business e-mail (really, just about the only form of communication we corporate types have today. Why write a report or call someone when you can type an e-mail?).
I was on a roll. I like the people. I’m passionate about the topic. I love performing in front of the crowd (because, after all, teaching is a performance, isn’t it?). About 30 minutes into the class, the lone female student gives me that nod … that check yourself nod. Oh, no. I glance down … and my pants are riding dangerously low on my hips, showing off my belly and my black silk panties. I’ve suddenly dropped 10 pounds, and it seems my brown silk palazzo pants — my favorite chic-yet-they’re-like-wearing-pajamas pants — aren’t keeping up with me. Or on me. With subtle grace that would make a princess proud, I jerk them back up on my hips, never missing a teaching beat. But, jeez … my pants fell down in front of the class?
They did rate me a perfect 10, though.
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