I can’t wait to see what the rest of the weekend brings. Or at least what the remainder of Friday holds. The surprises started when I lifted my toothbrush and was startled to see my watch on my right wrist. Of course, my first thought was “WHO put that there?” I’ve never worn a watch on my right wrist in my life and although I remembered picking up my watch just a few minutes earlier, I couldn’t remember actually putting it on. Couldn’t even imagine how I did it as I generally struggle every morning to get the clasp done as I’m putting it on my left wrist!
Well, the immediate shock of seeing it there made me miss my mouth with the toothbrush and after smearing it across my cheek, I proceeded to drop it and watched it tumble down my arm, leaving a trail of toothpaste down my dark purple sweatshirt sleeve.
After a few minutes of toothpaste clean up detail and correcting my watch placement, I headed to work, thinking I was safe. I took off my boots and put my shoes on and low and behold, had put on white socks (gasp!) instead of navy blue to wear with my blue loafers and jeans. I was beginning to think I was back in the pre-school days of my son where they got to wear pajamas to school on “Freaky Friday”!
At work I sit behind a desk and not many people see my feet, so overall it wasn’t that big of a deal. Seeing as I work on a University and how the majority of students express themselves through their outfits, my faux paux of white socks didn’t really mean much.
However…every time I got up from my desk, they jumped out at me like a red flag. And they made me smile. Big smile. Every time. All day.
I’m sure I had a much happier Friday than I would have with my blue socks on. And that wouldn’t have happened for me a couple years ago. I’ve noticed a subtle shift lately. Whether it’s red wine on my all white bathrobe (yep – came right out with some Clorox bleach), a burned casserole (scraped it off and we ate it anyway) or a task forgotten (there’s always another day) I don’t get tipped over the edge to craziness like I used to. I yell less – berate myself less and just generally try to remember to breathe and just deal with it.
And today I smiled. Big smile. Every time. Remembering back to my Martha Stewart days, which coincided with my son’s pre-school Freaky Friday days – I’d say it’s a good thing.