Progress

The sounds of south of the border are lilting through my house. I offered the painters use of the radio downstairs - painting can't be the most exciting way to spend your day, so I figured they could use a little music. I'm upstairs in the office, so it's not bothering me.

I'm changing sheets, tidying up - moving all the furniture in order to paint gives me a good excuse to do some cleaning behind stuff. Not that I enjoy doing this stuff, but I do enjoy having a clean house. Really clean. How long will it stay this way; that's the big question. I need a full-time assistant, really, but let's face it - it's not going to happen.

I straightened up my shoes in the closet - it's almost embarrassing how many boxes there are. And I truly only wear some of them. Yet I can't part with any of them - nope, none. I would say how many pairs there were, but I'm not sure I care to divulge the number. Though I would if the right person asked, but only because I am sure she has more than I do. (I'm protecting your identity, but you know who you are ...) Maybe I'll reevaluate next fall if I end up working again and have to dress the part.

(I forgot to mention the application I submitted ... we'll see what happens.)

Which leads to a confession: Part of the reason I miss working is dressing for work. Crazy, huh? But I like to dress up. Wear all my outfits. At the newspaper I never, ever wore heels to work (I would have looked like a freak), but I always dressed nice. I wore skirts and tights, skirts and boots, skirts and sandals in the summer. Wore pants a lot, too. But I always looked good (trust me). And I miss it. I need to get out of the house, out of the habit of wearing jeans every day. Don't get me wrong - I love jeans. And shorts, and capris/crop pants. But I need a little change.

When I taught before, the class only met twice a week. So I wrote down in my planner what I wore each day. Otherwise I would end up wearing the same thing every Monday. And students notice these things. Don't know that it would damage my credibility, but you never can tell. Plus, during one semester I was pregnant, which seriously puts a cramp in the wardrobe - I never wanted to invest in too many maternity things.

So I charted what I wore, and how often. That's right: I can't remember to get the bills in the mail or to file papers, but I do have time to monitor my wardrobe. I'm sure this says something about me.

I'm equally sure I don't want to know what it might be.