eight days a week

I'm pretty good at scheduling. My color-coded calendar (red for arts, green for work, orange for volunteering, purple for the gym, blue for other) is a disgustingly large part of my brain, and mostly, things line up in ways that amuse and entertain me.

But then I looked at Friday, and realized that day was going to take me from 1) work to 2) physical therapy for my wonky shoulder to 3) a fancy-pants art party at the Museum of Contemporary Art to 4) a rock & roll show date at a decidedly, uh, non-fancy venue (scuzzy is not quite the word, but you get the idea) and that there was no opportunity for costume changes between calendar items, and oh balls what was I going to wear? ugh first-world problems are the worst problems.

Chambray shirt, Forever 21 (shut up. and yes, really.); velvet skinnies, Uniqlo;
chain necklace, vintage; bracelet, Until There's A Cure; fuckoff booties, Aldo.

Thankfully I enjoy a fair bit of leeway on "casual Fridays" as to what is work-appropriate, and also I found an orange scarf in my office so when the top button of this shirt kept undoing itself (damn you, crossbody bag), I could loop that around my neck and look vaguely decent when our board chairwoman popped into my office on several unannounced occasions.

Lesson #1 of the day: lipstick helps in all situations. Lesson #2: I really need to sew a hook-and-eye closure inside this shirt for decency's sake.

1 comment:

MidFi said...