It started out innocently enough- Martin and I decided we'd meet for lunch at his office, because we had an errand to do over by Harry Hines, and that's where he worked. No big deal, right? I ran through my list of clothes mentally, and felt quasi-confident I could pull off an outfit that didn't look like it came out of a bag. I joked to Martin that I needed to get in the shower super early if I wanted to come see him with dry hair.
Two things I noticed in the shower. First of all, baby boy needs to start hanging his wash rags up to dry when he's done instead of just throwing it in the corner of the shower. It's my pet peeve anyway, but now that I've been washing my ONE wash rag out, hanging it to dry and re-using it, it just seems wasteful to see if laying there sopping wet and gross. Secondly, since I've been using it to wash my wash cloth, my bar of soap is dangerously low, we're talking getting down to a sliver. I have never in my life eyeballed and envied my husbands huge, brand new fresh chunk of man soap. Until now. I kind of had to hold myself back to keep from using it.
Let's cut to the actual getting ready part. Since it was still cool outside and I only have two long sleeve options, I had planned to wear my jeans, white (still slightly stained) tank top with my denim shirt over it to hide the stain. A repeat of my outfit I wore to Bible Study last week- that wasn't half bad. The only problem was, I pulled my rolled up denim shirt out of the bag and immediately noticed it was wrinkled beyond belief- despite my best efforts. GREAT. Also, when I put it on, I noted that it was starting to carry a faint, worntoomanytimes odor. NO. No, this will not work. I should tell you that the denim shirt is an item I recently purchased that I had wanted for some time now. I pictured myself classy and sophisticated in it, like "Annie" from Dallas- rockin' out my denim shirt with my riding pants and riding boots. You know- classy casual. I can tell you, this is NOT the description I would use when I looked at myself in the mirror. More like- scary girl prison inmate. Ok, no worries- I can't really get around using the denim shirt, so I'll just pair it chicly with my maxi skirt and the tank top. FAIL. I looked like a very extreme religious fanatic that was only missing the hair that goes to my ankles. Crap, crap, crap. I finally settled on my pink tshirt, with the denim shirt and jeans. Not bad. The wrinkles were working their way out, and I was ignoring the smell.
I opened up my contact case and noted that, 1) I'm almost out of solution- like maybe 2 squirts left, and 2) OH. MY. GOSH. My contact apparently did NOT make it into the solution bath the night before, and was stuck to the side of the case (you probably now realize how blind I truly am), and was shriveled up and dried. Panic, panic, panic. This is where I freak out people. I wear my glasses at home only usually, because flashbacks of my hideous giant, pink, plastic frames from junior high haunt me to this day; and I cannot bring myself to imagine I look any different than I did then. This is full on panic mode. I cannot go into my husband's office, with wrinkled, smelly clothes, and glasses on my face.
Oh, and fabulous. Looks like my hair really ISN'T going to be dry.
Ya'll this is where I had my a-ha moment and realized how stinking vain I really am. I thought the clothes thing would be no big deal for me, but this seriously made me upset. What in the world would people think?!? What if I saw Martin's boss? I know everyone in that office. Would they think I just rolled out of bed, slept in my clothes, and didn't care?
This is the actual text I sent Martin at this point.
.....and his response.
Yes. I will just use the back door. No one will have to suffer.
I tried valiantly to revive shriveled contact, and it DID kind of plump back up. But I will tell you. Holy Cow. I put that sucker on my eyeball and paid for that all day. I couldn't see, it was blurry and hurt like the dickens. I had weepy left eye for most of the day after I took it out.
I got some great support from my Bible Study girls and Alicia. Power through the vanity. Let it go. I finally decided to embrace my look. I threw my hair into a soggy bun, and rocked out my glasses. I was going for edgy librarian.
On the way to his office, I passed a homeless man pushing his shopping cart through the office park. It had a few random things in it- I'm assuming that's all he owned. Wow. That put it into perspective. Totally humbled. I had tears in my eyes. THAT is why I'm doing this. To empathize. To see these people that I have ignored and missed all this time. I dug around in my purse. What can I give this guy? (I don't think he'd want the black flats I had on- not going to help him). Wow. I had a whopping $.04 in change in my purse. No bills, nada. (Which is not unusual for me in my little cashless society world). Made me so sad. Need to think of a good solution for this. Any ideas, guys?
As we drove off to eat lunch, I noticed them everywhere. I noticed opportunities to help someone every where. And that's the point.
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