"Oops, I did it again."

Today, I wore a pair of pants to work that are missing a button on the flap and that expose lower back (i.e "crack draft") when I sit. They also lack belt loops.

They're a pair of those pants that look great when you first put them on in the morning because they shrunk just a teensy bit after their last washing. They're black and made out of some kind of ultrasuede with a "T" pattern on them.

Twenty minutes into the day, however, they've stretched back to their ill-fitting true nature and I find myself stuffing my blazer between the seat and back of my swivel chair to prevent those fortunate enough to be in view of my back from seeing butt cheek.

I'm too old to be wearing Britney pants...but not old enough to be wearing a sweater around my waist all day. Instead I keep my coat on and hope that it's long enough in the back to cover any skin.

You see, I have a problem with black pants. I can't get rid of them. I have five or six pairs and only two fit well. I may be the only person you'll ever meet that wears more black during warm-weather months than when it's cold.