I'm supposed to be writing my bi-monthly column RIGHT NOW since, um, deadline is in two hours, but you know what? I'm betting I can crank that thing out in 15 minutes. For some reason I don't feel like writing about the garden club or middle school projects just yet. The endurance needed for that kind of thing is higher than you'd think.
So here's what I'd rather write about:
I'm wearing a t-shirt in a color I adore (like a slate blue or something) but with a neck that is weird. Seriously, I feel like my shirt is on backwards but no, it's really not. What kind of neck is that? Anyway, I'm thinking of refashioning this thing. I mean, what could happen? I end up with some pretty colored rags, I guess. Huh. So now that I've thought about refashioning, I've decided to just put it in the rummage pile and let someone else worry about it.
Yesterday I wore a navy blue skirt that made me feel like a rock star. It's the kind of skirt I could wear every single day and not get tired of. That's pretty much the only criteria I have in regards to my closet. If I don't feel like a rock star, then what's the point?
Also yesterday, I embarrassed the family without even trying! Because I have skillz. I put on my pretty skirt and was prancing all around trying to remember if I'd shaved my legs properly when I got the genius idea of taking my razor out on the deck to see what was what. In my defense, it was sunny and awesome, and I could really see my hairs. It wasn't ladylike or terribly appropriate, but I did get the job done. And that's when I noticed our neighbor taking a walk--towards our house, which is at the end of a straightaway--looking my direction. She didn't call the cops, though, so you know what? I classify this as a win.
Today I am also wearing a skirt, but I took care of my legs in the shower this morning. You're welcome, world.