I don’t think it was my hair: I just had it cut
yesterday. It’s looking pretty good (for
my hair, anyway). My outfit was fine. Cute, actually. I was wearing black pants with decent black
strappy sandals and a chartreuse fitted-yet-flowy top that others have
complimented before. Could it have been
my toenails? I’ve only had one pedicure
this summer. I’ve got a gnarly blister
on the side of my big toe from running that I don’t want someone trying to
scrape off. So, I’ve been the one to
cut, file and paint my toenails in recent weeks. Sure, they don’t look great; but not
horrible. I don’t think it was my toes. Nah, that’s not it.
Did I remember deodorant?
What am I saying – of course I did!
I am fanatical about deodorant. I
apply it several times a day since I have a (hopefully completely unjustified)
fear of body odor. Plus, it was at 7:30
this morning so even if I had forgotten it, surely things wouldn’t have been
that bad already. No, I don’t think it
was that.
And it couldn’t have been that I had something visible in my
nose. I’m a fanatic about that,
too. I check it periodically throughout
the day and it’s always clear. But now
that I’m thinking about it, I have been known to have an errant nose hair or
two try to grow a little longer they should.
Perhaps it was that? I can’t be
sure until I check it.
Okay, I’m back from a thorough examination in the
mirror. It wasn’t dangly nose
hairs. Was it my hair? I mean,
let’s face it – I have to kind of get used to the length before I can really
style it correctly. Maybe it didn’t look
as fresh and sleek as I thought it did.
My hair is usually the problem in a myriad of situations. That could very well be what it was.
My zipper wasn’t down.
I keep my bra straps hidden.
Maybe it’s the way I walk. I
really do have horrible posture. Sometimes
when I walk past a mirror (which I purposely try to avoid at all costs) I’ll
catch a glance of what appears to be Prehistoric Man before he was fully
upright. Was I slumped over too much?
Perhaps. But I can’t imagine it
would have been markedly worse than any other given day.
And it couldn’t have been my whisker problem. I had a good ol’ plucking session late last
week. I even got the scissors out and
trimmed my beard. Now that I’m thinking
about it, maybe it’s because I have a beard.
But, I’ve had a lot of facial hair all of my life. Maybe this is the wake up call I needed to
finally get it lasered off. And speaking
of lasering, my armpits could use a little how’s-your-father as well. I get the 5:00 shadow by noon most days. But again, it was 7:30 in the morning. And I’m pretty sure that even though any pit hair
very well could have been visible due to the fact that I was wearing a
sleeveless shirt, I wasn’t flailing my arms about. I don’t flail that early. Couldn’t have been that.
I don’t know what it was.
Maybe it was all of those things.
Maybe it was none of them. Maybe it was
just an “off” morning. Maybe the mood
just wasn’t right.
Or MAYBE, it’s just the natural order of things. I mean, it was bound to happen one day. Maybe this was simply the right time and I shouldn't try to explain or rationalize it. These things happen. It's life. It's how things go.
Maybe that’s why my clearly embarrassed seven year-old daughter refused - for the first time but likely not the last - to kiss me goodbye in front of her friends and ran off without looking back in my direction at school today.
Maybe that’s why my clearly embarrassed seven year-old daughter refused - for the first time but likely not the last - to kiss me goodbye in front of her friends and ran off without looking back in my direction at school today.
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