Death of a Bra

So, I walk into work, this morning, ready to take on the day. As I'm walking into the 32nd floor, I hear a painful squeal, a snap and the final breath before my overworked/underpaid bra strap decides to take the final plunge and die. Luckily, I carry a mini sewing kit. So, before I get the fake smiles and morning greets, I duck into "the can" and commence surgery. After 10 minutes and a whole spool of thread, "Tadaaa! It's aliiiiive!". So, I give it a pep talk, snap it at the wall for effect and strap myself in for the day ahead. Something's wrong... Daaaaamn! The stupid strap is all twisted! Ah well, my OCD will have to take a backseat to proper work etiquette. Why can't I be a cave lady so I can swang and bang? Anywho... the moral of the story is... Show your bras some love... you never know when they'll up and quit on you.