I am not a morning person. It's not that I don't necessarily like to get out of bed, although that's part of it. It's that I don't like to get ready. The whole idea of trying to shape this body and face into something presentable to the world it just too much. It's an unachievable goal and I hate the undertaking. I'd rather cover all of the mirrors in the house, put my hair in a messy bun on top my head, dig out my Late Night with David Letterman shirt, oversized Old Navy pajama bottoms and call it a day while I watched Meredith Viera and Matt Lauer smile through tragedy after tragedy.
This morning, as I do each and every day, I padded down the stairs and started wondering what I'd be wearing. My hopes were slightly higher today. You see, each year when the seasons change, for me it's like getting a whole new wardrobe, as I tend to forget what I have in my closet from one quarter to the next. So, I mistakenly felt a little rejuvenated in the clothing department. After my shower, a marathon hair drying session, a few minutes of facial pore examination and a mental reminder to make an appointment to get my hair treated, I headed to the closet.
As I stood there I realized that yes, some of the clothing had changed, but darnit, the outlook was the same. No matter what I did, I was going to look like a boxy (not foxy) librarian. Drat! There was no way around it. There I stood, roots in need of coloring, face in need of a visit to a dermatologist, body way overdue for a personal trainer and a wardrobe worthy of trashing on "What Not To Wear." I even checked the sweater section for a hidden camera.
After convincing myself that going back to bed wasn't an option, even though I seriously considered it, I finally decided upon a pair of khakis (pretend to be shocked and awed), overly sensible shoes and a drab shirt that only makes me look even more pale than I naturally do, if that's possible.
Now I am left wondering how quickly I can get a hair appointment, lose 30 pounds, clear up this breakout without explanation, and find someone to pick out my clothes for me. Or how quickly can I learn the Dewey Decimal System.
I shot the photo above while geocaching over the weekend. It was taken at a playground operated by the Salvation Army.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
I need to start learning the Dewey Decimal System
So sayeth Ragged Around the Edges at Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Filed neatly away: lamenting
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2 comments:
Ahhh, well put. I feel the same every morning as well. I've yet to find an easier way to do it.
Hey! What were you doing in my closet this morning?
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