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I had a chiropractic appointment on the first floor of our building early in the day to work on my poor, battered neck and they put my head in this contraption thingy for ten minutes so I can't move.

So of course just as I'm laying there, all strapped in to the headgear with my cute skirt and t-shirt, what comes over the PA but an announcement that a bomb threat was called in to the building and that we have to evacuate immediately.

I'm sure you can imagine my "Somebody?... Anybody? ... Hello?" moment perfectly. Eventually, my doctor came in, laughed at me, unhooked me, and we all made our way out of the buidling... And into one of the 10 days of the year where it actually rains in Los Angeles. And is cold.

And I decided against the wool pants/sweater combo this morning because I wanted to be all cute and flirty and strappy shoey and COLD. So. Freaking. Cold.

Bless my coworker's heart, she came down about ten minutes later (one of the last ones out of the building, the dollface) carrying my jacket, scarf and purse. They let us wait it out in the building across the street (we eventually just decided to hell with it and went to lunch) and two and a half hours later were let back into the building.

...Where I'm now suffering a sore throat, headache, and soggy, sad shoes. And also minor embarrassement in that rumor has spread around here that I was actually getting a massage at the time of the bomb scare and was naked.

Not so, my friends.

But it sure as hell felt like it.