Every morning on my walk to work I'm surrounded by women. Women that embody the word together with their smooth, shiny hair, perfect make-up, and cobbled shoes. They never looked rushed or particularly hurried toting their lattes in their freshly manicured hands. They are the types of women that wear white pants without spilling anything, match their accessories to their shoes, and can fit everything a lady needs into one tiny purse. They remember to drop off clothes at the dry cleaners, they never run out of toilet paper, and they iron on Sundays to avoid hectic weekdays.
A good friend of mine frequently says my personality matches my hair: organized chaos. I will never be able to walk down 18th street without being weighed down by my over sized purse, gym bag, and occasional shot put. I will probably always chew my fingernails, forget dry cleaning, take three days to read the Sunday paper, and have stacks of articles on my desk. I'll wait months to get clothes tailored or dry-cleaned, leave my apartment without my keys, and forget my umbrella every time it rains.
On my way to work this morning I wondered if I could ever be mistaken for one of these together women, if by chance some passerby glanced at me without noticing my wrinkled coat, crazy hair, chipped fingernails, and scuffed shoes? But before I could give it another moments thought, I tripped and spilled my coffee with such momentum that it splattered all over my over sized sunglasses. It was then I realized that some things will just never be.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
if ive said it once, i've said it a thousand times...like mother, like daughter.
I just like to shrug those moments off, remind myself and those around me that "i'm a mess" and skip haply chaotic through life.
Post a Comment