Aug 25 2008
A Mommy’s Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste
Today I walked around with a hole in my sock. The whole day with a hole about the size of a quarter on the bottom of my heel.
The thing is I knew it was there all along. This hole. But I wore the sock anyway. Because I was in a hurry. Because I figured nobody was going to ask me to remove my sneaker to take a gander at the bottom of my foot.
It goes beyond that. I knew that hole was there way before today. I noticed it the last time I wore that pair of socks. Still I washed them and folded them and put them in my drawer so I could wear them again. The holey socks.
It’s symptomatic of a larger set of problems. Namely:
- I don’t throw enough useless stuff away.
- I don’t care enough about my physical appearance.
- I don’t going shopping often enough for ladies’ footwear.
Overall, the fact that I can only focus on the torn fabric of my ankle sock should tell you I’ve had a somewhat trying day. I don’t think I had a single conversation that didn’t involve me raising my voice. That’s including the one I had with the survey taker over the phone. Not that I was yelling at her, but I did get interrupted about seven times by a screaming toddler and a five year old who needed a snack repeatedly. Add to that a dinner that took an hour longer to cook than I expected and morose teen whose only topic of conversation was her complete disdain for every human being on the planet. And well, it’s a recipe for a full fledged creative burnout. A sunny-side-up-brain-in-a-frying-pan kind of day.
So. Yeah, I’ll blog about my socks.
Please tell me I’m not the only one with sloppy footwear at the end of a long Monday.
