Friday as usual

So... got up this morning feeling logi. Don't know how to spell that (logi) but it means, at least to me, blah, bloated, like you have sand in your veins, like a beached whale, like you don't know how you will make it through the day.

I chose some funky stockings and a skirt with bright shoes, and got to my office where Rob greeted me with a question of my dress. "Today is JEANS day," he said. Now, when I was a kid I went to a neighborhood public school where girls were not allowed to wear pants unless it was "Pants Day". (Says how old I am huh?) Pants Day was our day of freedom. It was the day the little women of Barton High felt emancipated. So, when Rob said it was Jeans Day I had a sinking feeling that I was about to miss all the fun and sit alone in prison all day. Driven by inward passion, I turned around, got into my car, drove home. And this is what happened.

Time being of the essence, I grabbed my new jeans off the shelf and SQUEEZED into them with a hopeful spirit. They are fabulous I must say. But my granny panties, which truly make a granny happy, and I might add, cannot be topped for comfort, were bunched three inches out the top of my jeans. Not a first rate look I thought.

So I tore off the jeans, grabbed a more appropriate under garment, and put myself back together. Grinned at the mirror. Decided the shirt I had on was lousy and threw it on the floor and chose a purple Old Navy long sleeve T with a long black under shirt ... young and foxy. Changed my earings, one fell in half and I had to figure out how to loop it back together. Dang.

Then I heard the cat tormenting the birds. Walter the girl cat is a mighty hunter and although we have trained her to leave the finches alone, sometimes she cannot help herself. They are, after all, a fresh food feline tapas bar. Knowing it would be above zero today I decided to throw Walter outside. I tried to coax her, grab her, and ended up having to chase her over the couch, around through the kitchen and dining room twice, and knocked over two chairs before I had a firm grip on her tail. I dragged her to me and tossed her out the door.

Puffed, I pulled on a little jacket and ran out to the car, racing to work and getting in just three minutes late for a meeting. Grinning. Felt like I had had a big time. Had a huge laugh inside me. It was the most therapeutic 17 minutes of my year so far.

Maybe we are all simply kids inside. Maybe jeans really ARE the magic clothing we thought they were when we were teens. Maybe I just needed to abuse my cat a little. In any case, my day got a lot brighter and these jeans are foxy. Making me happy. And it's Friday. Whoooeee!

(all the above pictures are simply reasonable facsimile ... my ass is much much cuter than this.)