My friend picked me up this morning even though it wasn’t raining…which was a good thing because I beat my snooze alarm too damned many times to get out of the house on time…because I knew my friend was giving me a ride.
Seems kinda circular, doesn’t it?
And I anticipate doing the same thing in the morning because she said today she’d pick me up tomorrow.
If I’m lucky, everything that got wet this afternoon while I walked from the office door to the bus stop, then from the bus stop to home, will be dry.
Of course I have more than one pair of slacks. I just don’t happen to remember where I put them, or if they’ll fit when I find them. I will, however, look for them this weekend while I’m doing laundry, because I’m reaching the point where all I want to do to the current pair is take the scissors to them, and I can’t do that without back-up slacks readily available.
Back-Up Slacks is the name of my next imaginary band, by the way. 😉
Anyway. I am generally an unhappy camper when it comes to clothes shopping. If I can find a color or style I like, something that avoids making me feel like a complete frump twice my actual age, it’s never available in my size — either already sold out or not stocked in the first place. Slacks are even more problematic in that, at 5 foot 6, I’m a couple of inches taller than the national average height for women (give or take a bit, as it’s been a while since I checked the stats) — and yet most “average” lengths are too long by anywhere from one to four inches. And “petite” lengths are just enough too short to look really silly.
Yes, I know. Hemming. No sewing machine. Or not here, and I honestly don’t remember if I gave it to my neighbor or it went into storage. It flat-out irritates me to buy something and then have to spend more money to make it functional to wear. Yes, I know, first-world problem, and one I’m glad to have compared to others I’ve had in the past. Still, it isn’t as if I could do anything useful with the extra fabric a tailor would have to take off a pair of slacks. 🙂
Hey, if I can’t find the slacks I think I have stuck in the back of what passes for a closet in this place, I can, in fact, go buy some.
And I’m grateful to have that option.