She pulled out Aladdin on a whim last night, and now she has what just might be the most beautiful Disney song ever stuck in her head.
She hums it to herself as she’s getting dressed for work, which is probably why she risks a pink sweater top, the ¾ sleeves her absolute least favorite.
The color’s gorgeous. It’s not a V-neck. The sleeves aren’t itchy, and are actually a little longer than ¾ on my arms. Shut up. Just wear it.
She turns around in front of her mirror, spinning slowly.
You look great. Of course, that could be that you’ve neglected to put a skirt on yet…
Except today, she doesn’t feel like wearing a skirt. She digs around in her closet for the black slacks she knows she has. Her black boots give her a bit of height, and just a bit more confidence. She walks back into her bedroom and isn’t surprised to see Roy still sleeping. She has half an hour before he’ll get up; an hour, at least, before they leave.
She hates to be awake here, but for some reason, she hates to sleep even more. It’s like she’s going to miss something, except she knows she won’t. Not here. She wanders into the guest bathroom (it’s nicer than the masters’) and carefully towels portions of her hair dry. After ten minutes, she decides there’s no way she’ll wake Roy; he’s downstairs, snoring like…She doesn’t even know what. She takes out the hair dryer and takes her sweet time.
She considers just pulling her hair back, but it really doesn’t do the outfit justice. Her boots click on the tile, and she catches herself in the mirror.
It amazes her just how graceful she can be in these; they’re like two and a half inches, and she never wears heels.
She finally settles – no, decides – on styling her hair into soft curls.
Easy on the make-up, Pam. She steadies her hand. Why is she so nervous? Roy’s not going to notice. No. This is about me. This is for me.
It’s been a week since Jim fell off the face of the planet, and she almost – almost, almost – calls him after she leaves Roy that night.
Almost.
