I missed the flight…

So I was rigorously working out at the gym, trying to sweat as much as possible given the fact that I had consumed about 8 Oreos (limited edition gingerbread flavor by the way) and was thinking about how I used to have much more energy when I received a text from my PD crime partner. It was a nice reminder to write today (today referring to Tuesday). And I smiled, thinking yes, this Tuesday will be my first time making it to the writing session and I will do it. There was no way I was going to forget or not get it done. So I finished up my sweat session, grabbed my phone and keys and got in the car for the 5 minute ride home.
My house was chilly so I cranked up the heater. I drank half a gallon of water (maybe just a bit less) and lazily walked up the stairs. After showering I made the darn error of walking into my closet. The thing is huge. I have thought about renting it out, but the thought of a roommate makes me cringe. There were heaps of clothes on the floor as I had started to put away summer stuff and wanted to get out the turtlenecks and sweaters. I felt a sudden desire to locate my favorite pair of ultra soft fleece pajama bottoms. I started digging through the plastic box containers that were currently holding my winter wear. I found a sweater that I had forgotten about and slapped it onto a hanger, then I came across a pink sweater – yes pink! When I feel like I am getting too old I put it on, strut around the house the way a 10 year old would and feel better.
Then I started seeing why I have this problem of needing to rotate clothes according to the season: there were about 20 white long sleeved tops, the same amount in black and a load of gray sweaters! Did I really need that much? Had I actually worn every single one of those sweaters?
The dumb idea to color code my closet sparked in my brain and like a fool I started doing it, moving all the white stuff to the end and then the brown/beige/yellow stuff, then the maroon/pink/purple stuff. Oh dear Lord, I was having a great time! Suddenly I began seeing that I had too much white, not enough blue, and should probably consider getting some soft violet colors. I was so absorbed in getting clothes moved around that I forgot everything else and not until I heard my brother scream through the open door did I even consider time.
“Hey what time is it?” I shouted back.
“11:30” came my brother’s reply.
I sighed looking at the horrendous mess and made a choice to finish it the next day, somewhat excited about this color coding thing.
Snuggled in my warm blankets and feeling the weight of the day, I closed my eyes…

AND nearly shrieked when I woke up about 3 in the morning (why is it always at 3am??) realizing I had not done my writing!!! Tuesday hates me and Wednesday just spoils me. I think the closet is to blame.

One response to “I missed the flight…”

  1. So glad I looked up from reading Vernacular Eloquence to see your post. When you walked into the closet, I knew it was going to be a disaster. But I had no how idea how funny it would be.
    And all because you couldn’t locate the ultra soft fuzzy pajama bottoms. When you began to colorcode the sorted clothes, I thought of the thrift store and goodwill racks. That’s where I go “maybe I can find a green shirt in my size.”
    Starting to love Peter Elbow’s book now. I hear his voice. I could envision him parading around in a tight pink sweater.
    The thing about hop flights is that they arrive and depart frequently.


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