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In Which I Have Tangents

I was going to write a post last week about how on my way to work, I accidentally flashed a train station. It was going to be a hysterical addition to my series of accounts of why I am the most awkward. It was going to be cringe-worthy and deliciously self-deprecating. I thought about it all the way to work. But I didn’t write it. Because if I’m being honest, it’s just not that funny. I went to work in a black sundress with a high neckline and a low hem. It covered everything, unlike my Old Navy sundresses from three seasons ago that seem to have shrunk to the point that they are no longer work-appropriate, even with a cardigan. I thought I was doing really well on the dressing-appropriately-because-I-am-almost-a-grown-up-who-is-not-in-college-and-who-makes-over-ten-dollars-an-hour-and-who-is-married-and-who-gets-to-eat-ice-cream-wherever-she-wants-be-that-on-the-couch-or-otherwise front.

Then my L.L.Bean messenger bag made my dress ride up and a lady politely tapped on my shoulder to alert me of the problem.

That was it. The skirt was so long that I’m fairly certain no one even saw anything, I just looked silly. I certainly didn’t look like a grown-up, even with my L.L. Bean bag which is certainly very mature of me because you can replace it for free if it breaks. Buying from L.L. Bean is the same as Being Responsible. Never mind that this is the third replacement bag I’ve had because I keep busting the zippers. NEVER MIND THAT. The point is that even my mature buying habits (fine. My mother’s mature buying habits. But, to be fair, I was 14 or so when she bought the first one, and I did not even pitch a fit that L.L. Bean bags were lame. That’s pretty mature in and of itself) could not make me look like a grown-up here.

So you’re welcome that I didn’t write and post it.

On a similar note, my knitting is just as disinteresting. I’ve been on an inexplicable stockinette kick. Two pairs of stockinette socks, two Citrons, and half of a Beaded Cami. So. Much. Stockinette. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s because 90% of it is done on the commuter rail to and from work? Most likely it’s just that I’m gone for about 97 hours a day and just don’t have the brain power to focus on anything interesting.

I think the point of this largely irrelevant post is that I have two big writing projects to work on (oh you know, just the other half of “With Pointed Sticks.” Nbd), and am in quite the little creative funk.

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