Unpublished

I feel compelled to tell you that I often write blogs, but never get around to publishing them, because they don't feel quite finished to me.   In this case, I am going to just publish this one, even though 1) it is from October, and 2) it contains characters of the past.  It's okay.  Some events are timeless.  Enjoy this unfinished draft.

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HELLO.
How is everyone??
October was insanely busy for me!  I am glad that I don't have to do anything for a few weeks.

Adulting

I email or text Gym Rat just about daily to inform of my spills and trips.

And this happened the other day...

3:22 pm Veronica: GUESS WHAT

3:22 pm Gym Rat: wut

3:22 pm Veronica: i just realized my shirt has been on backwards

3:22 pm Gym Rat : OMG

3:22 pm Gym Rat: that's so you

3:22 pm Veronica:  It IS so me.

Narrator:  It was so Veronica.

3:22 pm Gym Rat: did you spill something on it too?

3:23 pm Veronica: earlier...  but fortunately, it was technically on the back of the shirt... so   now it's on the back and no one can see it.

3:23 pm GR: lolz.  smooth.  you should start doing that from now on.

3:23 pm GR: and switching halfway through the day

3:24 pm Veronica: yes... or just switching it before and after lunch

3:24 pm Veronica: i might need to go blog about this real quick

3:24 pm GR: YES!

I have been in very important meetings today and literally no one has said "HEY YOUR SHIRT AIN'T RIGHT." Sometimes people assume that I know that my shirt is on inside out, or that there is food or plants in my hair, or that there's food on my face.  PLEASE CORRECT ME.  I don't have a lot of mirrors in my life and also I never think about it.   I am a community effort, people!  

The other day when I was walking around Marshall's with a pair of jeans, and by the time I got to the Housewares department, I noticed that a cane wielding old man was walking directly behind me.  Probably 85 years old.  He followed me and followed me, and I tried to just be patient about the situation, as he examined every item that I examined, and touched every thing that I touched. 

Finally, he grabbed the pants I was carrying, and started speaking to me in Portuguese, saying what seemed to be something along the lines of, "These are nice, oh, they are black, I didn't know you needed pants."    I stared at him blankly.

Then he realized that I am a stranger, and laughed and laughed and apologized, and said he thought that I was his wife, whom he now had totally lost somewhere in the store.

These types of things happen to other people, right?  Is it really just me?

These funny little stories end up scribbled on post its and jotted down in my phone because they are silly and bring me out of myself a little.  The silliest things inspire me or make me over think.