The state of a woman’s wardrobe at 2:21 in the afternoon is indicative of her day. I just discovered my shirt was on inside-out. Don’t look now — I turned it around already.Sure, it was chilly this morning and I was having one of those days when nothing seemed to fit right. I’d put the blue striped sleeves on first, took it off, tried a light sweater then swapped it back at the last minute. Must have forgotten to turn it back out. I just noticed when I reached down to grab my cup that my seam was showing. Turns out, my shirt was inside out. And either no one else noticed or my coworkers were just too nice to point it out to me.
Oh well. Guess I should be glad today wasn’t the day I had an interview and two photos to shoot in the community.
That'll teach me not to be able to sleep at night — and at 10 p.m., to start the movie I taped the night before; and decide, since I had a craving for chocolate but had nothing in the house but a German chocolate cake mix, that 10:15 at night was a good time to make a cake.
You have to stay awake to get the cake out of the oven, and then it has to cool before it can be stored or iced. By that time, your movie is close to being over and, of course, since you’ve stayed with it that long, you might as well finish it.
But, you get a little cake icing on your finger as you’re cleaning up before heading to bed. You have to lick it off. Then it’s time to shut everything down and perform nightly rituals getting ready for bed. By that time, you’re too wound up to sleep soon.
So, you try reading or checking email, both of which direct your attention elsewhere. The next thing you know it’s 2 in the morning, you’ve read innumerable chapters in your book or document, are now fully engaged in the story and still no closer to sleep.
But you have to get up at 6:30 a.m. (just 4 1/2 hours away), so you limit yourself to just one more chapter and then the lamp goes out.
Amazing the noises you hear at night that the daily traffic and movements muffle.
And of course, just as you doze off someone sets off a car alarm or accidentally bumps their horn on the way out of the truck. Back to sleep, only to hear the shift workers moving about readying for the day. And then a train, the cat or neighbor’s baby.
You hit the alarm 5-6 times. Then, you’re in turbo speed all morning, fumbling and dropping things, trying to get everything done and not forget your wallet or shoes. Of course, nothing fits right. Everything is either too small or too big, has a tear, snag that rips a seam, doesn’t match, is itchy, sheds or is just plain uncomfortable.
Is it any wonder you barely get the kid to school on time, drag in a little late to work and don’t discover until after 2 p.m. that you’ve been wearing your shirt inside out all day?
Ain’t life grand! :)
One day, maybe I’ll learn to sleep more than 3 hours a night or more than 2 nights a week, or to function better in the mornings. Although, after more than 30 years, I sincerely doubt I’ll ever be a “morning” person. Mary Sunshine, I’m not.
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