In my post-election-results stupor of excitement and emotional drainage last night, I had to force myself to get my stuff — and clothes — ready for work this morning. I figured I would feel even worse at 7 a.m. than I did at 1:30 a.m. and dug around in my closet for a while to find something suitable for work today. I thought I had grabbed a white sweater, dark brown pants and my brown boots, carefully laying them out for this morning.

What I realized at lunch, with a growing sense of horror, was that my “brown” pants were actually black — very black — and I am now traipsing around the office, Panera and Southern Maryland wearing brown boots, black pants, a black purse and a white sweater. That’s a fashion faux pas if ever I’ve heard of one.

Even my boyfriend recognized my obvious gaff — as I stopped dead in my tracks walking across the street.

“Are these pants black?” I asked Palmer in horror.

He squinted at my legs. “Yes. And your shoes are brown.”

Oh, the shame!

See, if only I had this purse I’ve been lusting after for months, I could have made this whole debacle work!

I blame Obama — I haven’t been able to think (or see!) straight since the results poured in last night.