Crisis Averted

Hey, what's that?

That is my view of a window washer scaling down our building, mere inches from coming face-to-face with me and my apartment.

I'll have you know that he neither saw my pseudo-nude bod nor my ability to gyrate at an embarrassingly jiggly tempo. Instead, I hurriedly closed the blinds and hid in the kitchen, eating peanut butter straight from the jar like a nervous rat until I figured he was gone.

That's right - I am THAT MUCH more more sophisticated than I was just two years ago.

Suck it, Jen Version 2008.