Motherhood has been hard on my ego. The fact that it's summer doesn't help either, because who wants to get cleaned up in the morning just to go swimming in the afternoon? The last few days I've been sporting the following outfits in the following order:
1. Disgusting stinky gym clothes. I do actually go to the gym in the morning, but I've found it too much of a hassle to change, so I ashamedly admit to teaching piano lessons while reeking of B.O.
2. Swimsuit. Although I put my stinky gym clothes back OVER it while we drive to and from the pool, so then I smell like B.O. PLUS CHLORINE.
3. Pajamas. Because when I get back from swimming and finally shower for the day, it seems pointless to put on a "real outfit" for only a few hours.
My neighbor's son has a girlfriend. I've met her on 3 occasions. The first, I went over late at night to play the piano for a little something. I looked like hell. I was ready to climb into bed, but I had put on self tanner, so I was wearing the most disgusting clothes I owned. I may have been clean, but I smelled like a chemical plant. I was profusely apologizing, "I do not usually look like this..." The second, our basement was flooding or had just flooded and I was over borrowing a water jug, so again, I'm all, "I REALLY do not usually look like a hobo..." Then today, I go over shortly after my shower but prior to dinner, so there's no excuse this time, and I was about to start the whole rigamarole again, but I realized, "NEWS FLASH. YOU DO USUALLY LOOK LIKE THIS."
My off days used to be easily outnumbered by the days when I made some sort of effort, but that's no longer. If you haven't seen me in a while, here's how you can recognize me: My hair has not seen a hot styling tool in 3 or 4 days. I have worn the same pair of brown flip flops everywhere (and every day) since end of May. I have 2 weeks worth of clean laundry which contains: 20 assorted T-shirts. 10 gym shorts. 3 swim suits. 5 pair of sweat pants. 2 pair of jeans. A single skirt. An inexplicably small amount of underwear. Nothing that's seen the steaming side of an iron ever. I am walking through my life looking like I've been dressed by a lesbian. A manly one. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Mona 5th Ward primary families
9 months ago
1 comment:
I'm meeting with an image consultant the beginning of July. Besides needing some help myself, I'm taking one of my employees. In her recent performance review, I had to say in the most professional of manners: "Your clothes are much too tight to be considered professional." I phrased it by saying, "it's important as a facilitator to dress in clothing that fits and flatters your body type." She didn't understand what I meant, so that's when I unloaded: Not only are your pants too tight, they are much too short. They pull across your crotch and cut you off in your mid-section where you have extra "love" (my favorite word for flesh). I could have said more, but I stopped there. I then took her shopping for a new outfit and scheduled her some time with Roberta a.k.a. Utah's version of Stacy London--all to alleviate my guilt. It was awful. I'm still having nightmares. I'm sure nothing you are wearing is as bad as what she was wearing. It's summer. Anything goes!
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