Train of thoughts

29 February 2008

I woke up late and decided to dress in last winter’s olive green. My hands looked for my Gap-long-sleeved in the colorblind dim of 7:15, feeling and weighing any darkness with arms.

But. I’ve developed a habit of putting away clothes in my laundry bin, or in the Rubbermaids under my bed, or sometimes in the bankerbox on my closet shelf. Rarely will I fold clothes into my chest of drawers, and only with great patience and soji will I ever hang up a thing. This makes dressing more like treasure hunting, the excitement of which is usually enough to entice me out of bed. This morning, however, the excitement was lost on me as I rummaged, grumbling, though all my worldly possessions.

The brush-teeth and out-the-door hour ticked past as I emptied my drawers and repacked them.

I don’t particularly like olive green. I didn’t like it last winter either, but since I had decided upon the thing, I couldn’t see much sense in reconsidering. In fact, at 7:45 it’s still difficult to see much of anything.

Five blocks away, the bell rang delivering students from 7 am class, and I found my gapstretchT folded between two pair of jeans—incidentally, right where I put it Saturday.

I was late to for Greek, but what’s a few minutes on a lovely spring morning? Some students get a week of spring break—you wouldn't begrudge me 10 minutes?

Though it was a bit cool for a real spring break. Fortunately, I wore a sweater buttoned up warmly all day.