My hair predicted – correctly – that the weather this morning would be damp and warm with a good chance of frizz.
It has since then assumed all the texture and gloss of twine.
It’s another case of you-should‘ve-seen-me-when-I-left-the-house.
Sometimes I have whole weeks like that.
Today, for example: not only am I questioning what might’ve possibly happened to my hair between when I went to bed last night and when I awoke but I am also wondering about my wardrobe in general. Why, prior to my leaving the house this morning – and according to my mirror which has never lied to me before – I would've sworn to you that my outfit was fashionable, well suited to me, and ever-so-casually elegant.
This illusion promptly disappeared once I reached the office. What was I thinking? This doesn’t look good on me at all! And what is this? A blue sock and a black sock? A quick check tells me that my shirt is on right-side out, which is always a plus in the corporate environs, but the two-different-colored sock thing has me a little concerned.
Two different socks. Humph.
I’ve caught myself frowning at my feet more than once this morning, as if there’s a chance that my socks will notice my displeasure and do something about it. I doubt it, though, as I’ve been displeased with my footwear in the past and it’s come to naught.
Although, come to think of it, I did once have a pair of high heels turn unexpectedly into flats, which was both exciting and uncalled-for.
Perhaps I should stop being so heavy-handed with my feet and just leave them be before one of them decides to get ambitious and start branching out. Next thing you know, I’m cutting little sidecars into my shoes like Grandma did.
I may want to re-think my position on colored socks and their relation to reality…
Note to self: Buy feet something thoughtful but not too expensive. We can’t afford to lose these two so early in the game.