Dressed like a five year old

The meltdown I had in front of my closet this morning can only be described as total and catastrophic.

Typically I go through my morning routine with not too many dramatic episodes. There is always drama, but it's in my head and I try to keep it there so that Bubba won't know the full depth of my Crazy and leave me in the night before having to witness another one of my classic getting dressed fiascoes.

Thankfully he was up and out early this morning, likely due to the window fan falling randomly from its perch onto the dog's bed immediately below, and did not have to bear witness to my personal Wardrobe Waterloo.

Phew and DAMNIT WHY DOESN'T ANYTHING WORK AROUND HERE?!

After our morning walk (the dog was not harmed in the casual plummeting of the window fan), Jada and I picked tomatoes and headed into the house to get ready for work. All was going along fine and since I'd already decided during our walk exactly what I was going to wear (this is what I do while Jada poos, I think about which shoes go best with my new jeans. You know.), my Crazy level was at an all time low. Which was notably incredible since I was/am both PMSy and tired.

It all hit a disastrous snag when, after compiling all other items of clothing, my top was no where to be found. You know, The Top. The one without which the outfit can not be made whole.

WHEREISMYTOP??

Stomp from closet to dresser to dresser to hanging clothes in closet to folded clothes in closet to gym bag in the trunk of my car to suitcase I haven't used in two months to dresser to bedroom floor (where the crying happened).

WHEREISMYTOP??

Oh my The Top. It is the very best top. It makes me feel normal when I'm a BLOATED PMS COW, skinny when I'm normal and thuper thkinny when I'm skinny (rare). It is not fancy, but it's a pro. It knows how to hide lumps and bumps and, in some case, alarming bulges. It doesn't wrinkle. It doesn't stretch all out weird by the end of the day. It makes me look tan and fit and not like a cow.

AND I CAN'T FIND IT oh my god where is it?

This went on for a while longer than I care to admit before I gave up, put the chair back in the kitchen (I was standing on it in the closet in order to get a bird's eye view of the closet's contents in case The Top had climbed into the attic) and resigned to finding something else to wear.

For those of you who go through similar bouts of Ihateeverythinginmyclosetandhavenothingtowear-itis, this is a dicey decision. There have been times in my history when this decision has resulted in me working from home with an unidentified ailment so that I can just wear my yoga pants and a tank top instead of having to find Something To Wear To Work.

Today, however, it took a new interesting turn.

After trying on pretty much every single top I own with my jeans (because I was wearing these jeans no matter what) and giving up on them all, I dug way down to the bottom of my bottom drawer of Tshirts and randomly produced a shirt which I had only worn a few times but had, during those few times, brought me unmeasured joy.

I don't know why.

It's just kind of fun. It's a ridiculous shade of teal with a big green bird screen printed on the front and it doesn't match anything. But it fits nice and doesn't look atrocious with jeans.

I put it on and my hatred for the world was momentarily numbed.

I was wearing my favorite jeans. I was wearing a fun shirt. I was no longer screaming and crying.

*Idea*

I can solve my apparel nightmare by wearing all my favorite things. At once. Regardless of whether they match because I love them each individually and if it gets too crazy I just focus on one of them and back slowly away from the building ledge.

Fetch me my best red shoes! (I have some that are not The Best.)

And my cargo jacket!

Ooh. Maybe not...

And my ugly librarian sweater!

Eek. Too ugly...

Alright, no one needs a jacket. It's summer!

There. And we're done. I'm going to wear my favorite shoes with my favorite jeans and my fun Tshirt and I'm going to go to work and act like a professional while dressed like a five year old who's mummy let them get dressed all by their wittle self. And give away tomatoes to strangers.

I either need to stop drinking at work or start, I can't even tell anymore. I will be spending the day, however, explaining to everyone how I managed to get dressed up like this, in clothes that only go together if you're a preschooler, because I'm incredibly PMSy and should not be toyed with.

I will also use this morning's upheaval and suffocating PMS as a valid excuse for my going online and spending $400 on clothes from a shop I had, until now, deemed too pricey for the likes of normal people.

Isn't it nice when you can suddenly understand how certain people go insane? I think so.