I was sitting at my desk and my back felt achy, so I decided to crack it. I glanced around to make sure nobody could see me, then stood with my feet planted firmly, my arms straight out, and started twisting my back and swinging my arms windmill-style. People call this my Wonder Woman move. Several vertebrae cracked satisfyingly, and I gave it one more extra-strong swing. It was a bit too far, my feet came unplanted, and the rotation nearly knocked me over. I stumbled about my cubicle, catching myself on my little bookcase, then saw that I had emerged enough that I was in full view of anybody down the aisleway who happened to glance over.
I was emerging from the restroom, in my own little world, reliving some random fantasy conversation in my head. There was nobody in the lobby as I came out, so I started actually acting out the conversation, speaking under my breath and adding hand-gestures. That's when several strangers from another office swung around the corner, on their way to lunch, to catch me with my palm in the air soliloquizing to the elevator.
I was sitting at my desk eating lunch, and I noticed that the flower-clip was coming out of my hair. I pulled a little hand mirror out of my desk, propped it against my monitor, and leaned forward to peer in and readjust the clip. I heard a coworker who had come by to ask me a question clear his throat behind me and I swung around guiltily, my hands full of hair and flower, my mouth full of raisins.