On a typical day, I don’t get dressed until lunchtime. I could tell you that I’m more creative in my pajamas, or that I set a certain amount of work I feel I must complete before I’ve “earned” a shower, but the reality is that I’m lazy. And my pajamas are cozy and warm.
I’ve seen more than one person giving “advice” to freelancers insisting that you should get up and shower and dress and PUT ON SHOES to begin your day, to give yourself some structure and take yourself seriously and stuff, and I have to say that I think that’s absolute crap. If you can’t get any work done unless you’re fully dressed, you’re ill-suited for working for yourself, anyway. And I don’t get health insurance, a 401k, or paid vacation—if I want to spend half my day in flannel pajamas, BY GOD, I am going to exercise that ONE perk of my situation without remorse.
But sometimes I do have to get up and make myself presentable. Alas.
Today I had an appointment bright and early to meet a local student for an interview. I would love to tell you that I went to great pains to make myself look awesome and professional, but when you spend most of your days in your pajamas, just getting dressed feels pretty fancy, already. So I did my regular morning stuff, today—got up, checked email, got the kids fed and packed off to school, did a little work—and then I got myself cleaned up and headed out.
This morning’s prep was made significantly simpler by virtue of the fact that I didn’t need to wash my hair. See, I know that no one with straight hair appreciates the AMAZING GIFT that it grants, in that you can sleep on it and it still looks good the next day, but I straightened my hair this weekend and that means that I wear it straight for three days. Because, for one thing, it takes forfuckingever to straighten it (and I can only justify that time if I can mentally amortize it over several days), and for another, being able to get up, brush my hair and go is a delightful novelty. (When I wear my hair curly, sleeping on it means that the next morning half of it is in knots and the other half is plastered to my head. Then I have to wash it again and start over.) So other than the additional time it takes for me to carefully arrange a shower cap on my head, morning prep is greatly expedited by having my hair already done….
My first stop this morning was at my bank’s drive-through, which is kind enough to open at the crack of dawn. That’s good news if you want to go take care of your banking bright and early, but it would appear that not everyone has their coffee before availing themselves of this option. The person in front of me completed their transaction and then sat there… counting money? Painting toenails? Making a phone call? It wasn’t clear. But just when I’d finally become annoyed enough to honk, they glanced in the rearview mirror and realized I was waiting patiently behind them. And then they left in a hurry. Ooooookay.
From there I proceeded to the coffee shop where I was set to meet this student, and I was all excited to see peppermint mochas on the menu. I have no idea why; I rarely get fancy coffee and most of the time I’m not a huge peppermint fan. But for whatever reason, it just sounded really good. So I ordered my peppermint mocha and went and set up my computer so that I could do a little work before my meeting. My coffee came up and I grabbed it and sat back down. I took a big sip…
… only to discover that I’d been given a COCONUT mocha, rather than a peppermint one.
My initial reaction was revulsion—getting a mouthful of coconut when you’re expecting peppermint is a little jarring—and I tried to decide if I wanted to go up and get them to make me a new one. Then I replayed the ordering in my head; had I mumbled? Did the barista maybe have a hearing problem? In the end, I decided I was too lazy to care very much, and I drank it. It was still weird, but basically okay.
The interview was fun and I stayed and did a little more work, afterward, and then went on to the Post Office. Because there is absolutely NOTHING like the Post Office 1) after 16 ounces of caffeine and 2) in December. Wooooooooo!
I tend to become very Zen at the Post Office. Getting aggravated absolutely does not help, and it’s a fascinating place to people-watch if you can refrain from becoming annoyed. Plus, it’s a whole ‘nother sort of way to become thankful, as you stand in line and thank the good lord that you don’t work there and don’t have to deal with all of these crazy people!
Anyway. I try not to be judgmental about other people’s parenting. Sometimes kids are brats. Sometimes people have bad days. Etc. But I am just going to go right on out on a limb here and say this: Sorry, I believe that allowing your child to lay down on the Post Office floor and pinwheel around in circles like a snow angel on crack WITH A LOLLIPOP IN HIS MOUTH is bad parenting. There. My name is Judgy McJudgerson, fine. All I could think while watching that was:
1) Ewwww, germs on the floor.
2) Someone is going to trip on that kid.
3) Ewwww, SERIOUSLY, GERMS!
4) That stick is going down the esophagus in 3, 2, 1….
Honestly. Either at least make him spit out the lollipop, or—I don’t know, I guess this is just crazy talk—try suggesting that perhaps we don’t flail around on the floor in public places. This kid wasn’t have a tantrum, either; he was just entertaining himself. And his mother completely ignored him.
And while I’m at it: Stamps come 20 to a book. Every book. 20 stamps. Yes, that one too. You need 60 stamps? That’s three books. Yes, really.
Also: Passports are $100. Yes, really. No, you can’t get one online (!!).
I’m SO glad I got dressed today.