I See London, I See France…

I’ve had a couple of serious blogs in a row, so let’s shoot for something more lighthearted today, shall we?

Do you ever put your underwear on wrong in the morning?

Those of you who live alone, and therefore dress alone, and have done so your whole life may not understand. Those of you in a relationship where you usually get up last may not understand. I am hoping that someone out there understands. Because it would be too sad for me if I was the only person to sometimes do this.

In the fumbling adventure that is dressing in the dark* I have, on perhaps more than one occasion, put my underwear on incorrectly. I have put it on inside out (especially easy to do if it’s tag-less – and most of mine is) and even the wrong way around (back in front, front in back – this mistake is sadly more common for me to make – don’t ask). I have, in rare instances, done both these things on the same day. The style of underwear does not matter (you may feel free to use your imagination here). I have accomplished this feat with all makes and models.

The worst thing about all this is that I sometimes don’t notice right away. Sometimes not for hours. Often not until I go to the restroom and actually see my mistake.

Sure, I may have random thoughts of my drawers not fitting quite right (am I retaining that much water?!?); however, somehow it never occurs to me that something might be drastically wrong.

And this morning I found myself wondering why that was. (For the record, my underwear was correct from the get-go today, I was just bored). I do this action every day, put on underwear and wear it. Why do I not feel it immediately when something isn’t kosher? It should be so apparent when something is out of whack that I am immediately able to recognize and correct it. Or – is it just the opposite? Is it something I do so often that I don’t even think about it anymore? Like when you go out for groceries on a Saturday morning and five minutes later you realize you’re not dressed to be going to work.

Granted, the only consequence for abnormal panties is a couple of uncomfortable hours and the challenge of acrobatics necessary to correct it in a stall in the restroom at work. (Coworker’s have eyed me rather suspiciously after one of these adventures, it’s difficult to do quietly). But the key to that realization and correction is often the tag. I’ll see that tag where it shouldn’t be and think “Something is not right here.” The issue on my mind right now is that not everything in life has a tag. What if there’s more that I’m missing? What if there are things I don’t pay attention to that don’t have a tag to bring me back to reality? What am I missing by dressing in the dark?

Life is too short. It’s time to pay attention.

*Done so as not to wake the significant other in the room who does not have to be up yet.