To Bra, or Not To Bra

I don't want to wear a bra anymore. I'm tired of adjusting it and sweating into it and having to buy it and everything. I don't want to wear it. And as a woman without a whole lot under her t-shirt, that's probably possible. I can go braless and jog down stairs and not have to curl up in a heap of boob pain once I've reached the bottom. I can go jump on a trampoline topless and not attract a neighborhood webcam. It's possible. That's all I'm saying.

Turns out it's a little intimidating, though, so I'm going to start slow -- weekends. Then weekends and Mondays. Then weekends and Mondays and while I'm cooking dinner. Which will most likely lead to my next post -- wanting to put a shirt on while I'm cooking dinner.

I was going to post some crazy Googled bras, but there are too many to choose from. Google "crazy bra" when you're having some down time at the office. Then wait patiently for your boss to fire you for looking at boobies at work. Unless you work at American Apparel, in which case boobies are more likely to earn you a different kind of pink slip.

Freedom!