But that's ok, because it was COFFEE DAY!
Coffee day saved the day, because the day started with one of those monster headaches. A headache that required gulping ibuprofen as soon as I got to work and then disappearing to rearrange the lower level just because the lighting down there isn't as harsh as the main level. Luckily, it was work that actually needed to be done, so I suppose I should look at that headache as great timing. I guess. Kinda fucked up logic, but it works.
Damn weather changes. It's the source of the monster headache. Along with not being able to remember if I've been taking my allergy medicine every morning. I could get one of those Monday through Sunday pill sorters, but it would only have the one pill in it, so it seems a little ludicrous. Plus, I'm 42 (and 358 days but who's counting), so I really don't need a pill sorter at this stage of my life.
Weather change...as in the last summer hurrah. Maybe. It's nearly 90 degrees today. Makes perfect sense, because it's that first week of September and we always seem to get some kind of last minute heat wave. However, this single hot day is going to suddenly drop so that tomorrow we MIGHT reach a whopping 70 degrees. And what that becomes is me being obstinate about running air conditioning. Especially when no one is home all day. But it's HOT in this house. So now, with the headache hangover firmly entrenched in my brain, I'm also feeling slightly cranky. I might just go do some yard work, because hey, I'm already feeling cranky, hot, sweaty, and I think I should regale all my neighbors with the glorious sight of my striped pajama shorts and ragged tshirt with a hole in it.
This time of year is angst time. Not your typical angst either. I'm not feeling that anxiety over finances, home, marriage, children, or even about the current sad state of my manicure. No, this angst is over fashion choices. Why? Because I bought glorious boots. Boots so divine that I actually went through my closets and got rid of two pairs. (really, a 42 year and 358 day old should NOT be wearing fur boots that make you look like a Yeti) And while I was at it, I decided to check out those super deep, massively wide drawers I have, because when fall and winter clothes were packed away this spring, I had plenty of room. And they are now overflowing.
Not only do I have a boot problem, I have a sweater problem. Never ask me how many sweaters one person can possibly own, because I will cackle wildly and tell you not to ask stupid questions. In fact, my sweater problem is so bad that it now has caused a problem called "not enough shirts" problem. The number of sweaters now make me feel like I don't have enough shirts to layer under said sweaters.
But I have boots. Oh yes I do. And I'm ready for the cooler weather, because as much as I love and adore having my toes free, I adore boots even more.
Plus, according to FatBastard, it's time for a weather change. Not because he's lying in a heap of gluttonous fur on the floor since I won't turn on the air. No, he told me exactly what he thinks of my sandal problem. But first, the back story...blame coffee day and headache hangover as I ramble all over the place on this one.
Have you ever owned the perfect pair of shoes? Of course, when buying them, you don't know they are the perfect pair of shoes, so you only buy that single pair. And then, you wear them, break them in to perfectly fit your feet, and you feel like you have died and gone to heaven. Or hell, when you realize you should have bought five pairs so you will always have a pair of these perfect shoes in your closet.
Yup, I own one of those. It's a simple little flip flop. But not so simple when you attempt to replace it. A brown leather Reef flip flop with the perfect wide strap (but not too wide) placed at the perfect spot on your feet. Because they are leather, they mold to your feet perfectly, and even the worst heinous day at work can be spent in these flip flops without feeling like your feet have been reduced to bloody stumps by closing time. I have owned these sandals for three years, and they are now so worn out that I should be ashamed to wear them. But I'm not. The brown leather is nearly black in spots now, because they are really wretched with the constant wear. But they are PERFECT, other than looking as if I should toss them onto the road so that someone can wonder why there are random shoes on the highway.
At least, they WERE perfect.
I wasn't going to wear them today, but they were sitting at the back door next to another pair of sandals I was looking for. And when I went to retrieve said sandals, I saw the trail of cat yak. And could FatBastard yak the chunky hairball on the shoes so that there might be hope of possibly salvaging them? Oh hell no. FatBastard yaked the hairball onto the floor, and then yaked that gross liquid like substance I call "after yak" right onto the perfect sandals. The perfect leather sandals that because they are leather, will absorb the liquid. Even my love for them can not save them now.
Fine, ya asshole, I'll throw them away.
Jerk.
But, putting aside my sorrow, this is yet one more sign that the season will be changing. A season that calls for all those bargain finds through the summer of sweaters, boots, scarves, and layers. I will avoid thinking about what can follow, like a never ending polar vortex that freezes the vitreous fluid in your eyeballs the moment you step outside. For now, I will dream of my favorite season...autumn. The smell of the leaves, the bright orange, yellow, and red leaves, the endless raking, the huge fires.
But first, a memorial service for the sandals. I will bury them in the backyard, and mark them with a shoebox gravestone. I will mourn their loss, at least, until that first 63 degree day when I can wear the glorious boots. Or the bitch boots. Or the sexy beast boots. I think this year I will name all my boots. Yes, name them all. It's good to have goals
Until then, I will keep crafting my fall decorations. Playing with glitter leaves. Getting hot glue all over myself and hissing in pain every time I touch the hot glue gun. You would think I would learn, but I get a little excited and carried away when glitter and hot glue are involved. And since the heat wave will be over by then, I believe this weekend will be the perfect time to adorn the house in fall/bring on the cooler weather decor. If I can scrape the hot glue off my fingers.
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| Never too much glitter. |
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