Worst job in the world. AKA How I became a model

We picked the coldest day of the Century.
Cause we do like challenges.
And started walking around Times Square to shoot pictures of our clients' coats (can't name the brand).
I wasn't expecting to be a model when I woke up that morning. I barely even put make up on, because I was still half sick and all I was looking forward to was going through the day and go back to bed.

Instead, I just find myself wearing coats and striking poses, with people watching me. As if I was a model. The way I look at models when I see them shooting on the street. That mix of envy and pity, and "she's probably very stupid" look.

This shooting was supposed to take place two weeks ago. That morning, instead of my usual coffee, I had a skinny mocha. Cause that sounded appropriate. You know, saving on calories. But then I was just so frustrated by the fact that I was asked to be skinny that I got a blueberry muffin.

But, as I said, it didn't happen that day. The day we actually took these pictures I had just two wafer buiscuits for breakfast. So I was STARVING, and I was COLD, and people were STARING, and I felt like I had run out of BLANK expressions.

And the whole situation took us 4 hours, so of course as soon as I got back to the office I was overwhelmed with work to get done by the end of the day.

All in all the only good I got from this is that now I have to honor to be featured in fashion blogs for menopausal women.

Hooray.