Oh, man, y’all. Today was one of the worst getting-dressed-days of this whole project. I was at a total loss; it was ridiculous. I simply could not put an outfit together. It got to the point that I was mentally screaming at myself “JUST PUT ON A DAMN DRESS AND GO REDHEAD” – even then, I could not cope.
Let’s break this down into probable causes, shall we?
- Fatigue. I’ve slept less than 18 hours in the past 72, due to busyness and needing to prepare for various things. This, it turns out, is the single most not useful thing I can do for myself . . .
- Lack of Planning.There being just no time this week, I haven’t spent my usual hour-in-front of my closet, building and mixing outfits for the week. This is clearly biting me in the ass. Also, today’s the first day in several that I’ve not had a specific purpose in dress (no auditions) – and the freedom of choice? Was killing me.At the same time, it was fairly limited because . . .
- Ahem. . . Hormones.You understand. (Nothing fits. Everything’s too tight. I feel gross and grumpy and disgusting.)And . . .
- The new element. In addition to yesterday’s soft knits, I came away from my friend LJ’s largesse the proud new owner of this little J. Crew blouse (making it the second clothing-gift I have recieved in this mad crazy project.) And dammit – I wanted to wear it. I wanted to wear it now. (and yes, I will have a post for you soon on the experience of something ”new to me” after over 100 days of the known and familiar.)
In any case – let’s call this morning epic fail. I put on this outfit:
And made breakfast for about 90 seconds before going “Gah this belt is so uncomfortable I’m taking it off.”
So it turned into this:
In which I finished feeding the cat and then thought “God, if I wear this skirt all day I’m gonna lose a kidney*”. (Gah, hormones).
So I went back to the closet and pulled out the tried and true:
It’s simple and pretty and fine. It’s fine. I’m dressed, I’m work-appropriate, I get to wear the shirt I craved . . .
But, but I wanted to dress up and look girly and pretty and wear something in gorgeous colors and shapes and it’s not even that it needs to be new so much as I just wahhhhhh. . . .
And the tantrum begins.
There’s a lot going on right now. And I need to be taking better care of myself, that much is clear; some more regular sleep and probably better food. And I know that my recent lack of free time at work and my new host of to-dos (trying to tidy up my credit in preparation for student loans**, getting the cat travel-ready; all these things) is not helping. (Much more to do + much less time to do it? Well, marvy.)
What’s fascinating to me is how it is manifesting itself in my closet.
It’s just clothes, silly redhead. You’re just getting dressed. But apparently, to me? My closet’s a giant Rorshach.
Do any of you find your stress manifesting itself in getting dressed?
*and due to an early-childhood kidney infection, I only have 1 and 2/3rds that work. True story. So I really can’t afford that.
** I have already spent 45 minutes this morning on the phone with people about my credit . . . woof. Trying times.