June 3, 2009
This morning, I am wearing brown plaid pants. I love these pants, especially because they were the first I bought in my “normal” size after the Bar Exam Weight Gain Reversal Project had seen some results. I also love them because they were on a hanger in my old apartment, and made it on that hanger to the new place, and were therefore easily located.
Last night, I meant to do laundry when I got home from teaching. But Annoying Guy™ kept me late, yammering on and on about his personal issues with the test, citing personal reasons that I couldn’t help him with even if I wanted to, even if I didn’t see this as his way of excusing his performance, of appeasing his pride*. I managed, I think, to appear sympathetic, to not tell him to give up on the test and leave me alone. I counted this as a victory.
I got home late, and couldn’t possibly fathom the notion of gathering and sorting and basketing and carting down two flights of stairs, of retrieving quarters and detergent and softener and bleach. And I felt guilty about that.
And then this morning, I put on my plaid pants and set off for work. Around the fourth stop along the way, I noticed a splotch in the plaid that made me wonder if today’s water bottle was dripping. As it happens, it must be a remainder from a too-heavily buttered English muffin, or a baking experiment gone awry. And so, my laziness last night pays off, and I can pretreat and wash the pants, rather than lament their untimely relegation to the bottom of a freshly-emptied hamper.
This, too, is a victory.
In other news, I’ve also located my tequila (both the Herradura and the Patron, thankyouverymuch), ice, and glasses. Things are definitely looking up.