It was Saturday morning, the coolest day we’d had this September. After my rollerblade, I was soaked in sweat, but got pulled into the family flow and never quite made it to the shower. As I cooled down, I got colder and colder and started adding clothes that I randomly found scattered about my house to my already haphazard rollerblading ‘outfit’. My only purpose: to warm myself up.
Around 10:00, I grabbed one kid and the car keys and announced that I was on my way to the store. Patti shot me an amused look, “Like that?” she asked.
I looked in the mirror and this is what I saw:
- Ancient maroon and grey hiker/runners;
- two pink fleece socks that are ugly but fit perfectly under my rollerblade buckles;
- old-school, white, men’s large Adidas track pants with bright green stripes down the sides, cut off mid-calf;
- two long sleeve t-shirts covered by one of my dad’s big, old flannel shirts – red, black and green plaid – that I stole from him when I was hugely pregnant;
- a small, fitted, black, quilted vest that the flannel shirt was bursting out of at every opportunity;
- my favorite bright, neon, cable-knit orange hat with a large pompom on top – hanging around my neck and down my back by its braided chin straps;
- a sweat-streaked faced; and,
- wildly wind-blown hair piled on top of my head.
I shrugged and said, “Who am I going to run into?” And out the door I went.
Who I ran into is the most gorgeous man on my island, I’m guessing the whole state, possibly New England. I lived with him and a bunch of other friends the first summer, mid-college, I ever came to this stretch of land. Let me tell you that the last 18 years have been nothing but good to this man.
I had joked to a mutual friend that I thought he was imaginary because we had yet to run into each other – this is not a big island – in the two years I’ve lived here. But here he was. Today of all days. I do not remember what he was wearing – something in the realm of a fleece jacket and jeans. But I can assure you that his clothes were clean, matching and draping his body with careless precision.
He is not merely beautiful, he’s also kind, sweet, attentive and a total delight. And we reminisced and caught up for a good fifteen minutes before moving on. And then I looked down again.
- Don’t just throw something up on your blog without proofreading, without feeling like it’s fully ready for the public to see. One of your readers might just be the editor of Vanity Fair.
- Don’t send an email without checking to make sure its thread content is appropriate for every recipient. One of them might not appreciate being referred to as a ‘nutso’ by one of your colleagues in an embedded email from a few weeks ago.
- Don’t walk into a presentation without knowing everything about your audience and what they need. One of the attendees might have a question that only you can answer, a problem that only you can solve.
I might as well have been caught with my pants down on Saturday, case in point. I’m just sayin’. And I’m just suggesting that we all go forward in our days expecting – no – believing, that something truly gorgeous is right around the corner.
Image credit: atomicjeep