You Don’t Need to Go There

Hi Frank!

Wanted to tell you what happened this morning, but beware – this is all superficial- so if you’re into meaningful right now, you should move on. Okay? 

Lying in bed, I was remembering how snazzy a girl looked at Whole Foods the other day, wearing a blue pinstriped button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up, and jeans just like mine. (We stylish girls are like that).  Stealth-like, I went to examining, gathering in the details. Here’s the thing: Her shirt was buttoned all wompyjawed, gaping and half-tucked, completely out of whack, and sitting crooked on her shoulders. And her hair was a wildly tousled, gorgeous mess. How cool is she, I thought. I can certainly duplicate this look. 🤓

So, getting out of bed, I pulled on my jeans whilst studiously keeping my eyes closed. This is how you do it. Adopting a carefree,  devil-may-care, throw-caution-to-the-wind, go-for-it (etc etc) attitude and with total disregard, I buttoned my shirt every whichaway. On purpose. I then tried both casually and forcefully to shrug my shoulder hard enough to make everything fall out of place, giving myself that no-big-dill look. Eyes still closed, I used no brush or mirror, and simply bunched my bedhead of hair up into my fist, like it truly wasn’t a priority. Totally not. With abandon, I twisted a hairband around the tangled nest of a blob and grabbed my sunglasses and purse, nonchalantly humming “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” on my way out.

Into the car I flung a sack of birthday gifts. My little namesake, Janie-Lou, had two parties to be delivered to today, so off I went to fetch her. Once there, I opened the door to buckle her in and saw that she was thoroughly taking in my appearance. Her little 5 year old self, looking very alarmed, frowned up at me and exclaimed, “Oh NO, Mamamom. You look SO sick!”

Well, there you go. I quickly reassured her that all was well. Luckily, I had a brush in my purse. Got that hair taken care of, then quickly straightened and re-buttoned the shirt. All good now. Whew. Bad experiment.

Frank, I didn’t need to go there, did I. 
Love,

Jane