In a world rife – and fraught! Let us not forget fraught! – with countless details, any one of which could be the exploding gas tank on the roadside emergency that is your typical workday morning, I’ve changed tack.
I shall no longer pull the next morning’s outfit together the night before. No longer will you see the skirt, top, jacket/sweater and accompanying jewelry hanging, nightly, in preparation of Early-Morning Pearl’s 6:00 A.M. Stumble.
From now on, I’m prepping for a whole week.
How’s that for optimism?
I shall continue to believe that I have a reason to dress for work until specifically requested to not return.
So far, this has worked for me for dang-near 30 years now.
So that’s what I did Sunday night: I prepared myself. Laid ‘er all out. Five outfits.
Looked like I knew what I was doing.
I congratulated myself quite aggressively that first morning, called myself all kinds of pleasantly chummy things. “Good going, old girl! Old bean! Old sock! Look at you, all prepared!” I enthused whilst brushing my teeth. “You really have a good head on your shoulders, don’t you? And might I commend you on your continued daily use of Listerine. Not like that Oh-I-promise-to-floss-every-day load you gave the dentist last time we were there. You really should take more–“
It is at this point that I cut me off.
Frankly, Early-Morning Pearl doesn’t have time for that kind of crap.
And so there I was. Monday’s outfit, right down to the heels.
Man, but I’m good.
Roughly an hour later, I run into Robin.
“I love that jacket,” she says.
I twirl around, raise my arms, all fashion model-y. “This ol’ thing?” I chirp.
She frowns. “Just how old is it, anyway?”
I stop. “What?” I twirl again, only this time the twirl is not so much fashion model as it is dog-chasing-tail. “What’s going on?”
“Well,” she says tactfully, “looks like you’ve ripped out most of the right sleeve…”
I pull my jacket off, cast a horrified eye on the decimated seam connecting the right sleeve to the body of the garment.
“Bruce Banner,” Robin says sorrowfully.
I concur. “Never borrow your jacket to a superhero.”
Does this mean I won’t wear tomorrow’s outfit, a jaunty skirt and fetching top with a Nehru collar?
Nope. But it does mean that the sewing kit I’ve had in a desk drawer for almost 10 years now finally came out Monday morning.
One does like to be prepared, after all.