Bodacious Boomer

Yesterday I decided that if I was going to go on this cruise for a week that I had to go through my closet. Since at least April, maybe earlier, I have been wearing almost the same thing every day. It’s just so easy. Being self-employed I have no one to impress to get ahead nor do I have any corporate guidelines to which I must adhere. Therefore I wear what I want. Pretty much I have worn a T-shirt, shorts and Crocs sandals almost everyday for the last 5 months.

On the plus side I don’t have a big dry cleaning bill. Nor do I have to iron anything. In face I haven’t ironed anything in over fifteen years. (If Doug wants anything pressed he sends it to the cleaners.) In my defense, I really never learned how to iron when I was still at home. My mom had a wonderful woman named Lela Mae who came to our house every Weds. from the time I was three until I was thirty. She would clean the house in the morning, then have her lunch while she watched As the World Turns. After lunch she’d start the ironing. (She had one of those sprinkle tops stuck in a bottle of water she used to dampen the clothes.) I was amazed at how fast she could iron and how perfectly.

I did iron a little when the kids were young. Amanda went to private school for her first two years and had to wear a uniform. If I didn’t get it out of the dryer soon enough I’d be stuck having to iron it. After that she went to a very small school for young brainiacs. They didn’t believe in uniforms, not wanting to stifle the creative mind. (I fully supported that philosophy.)  I’ve read that some people really get into ironing-kinda of Zen thing I guess. I can’t imagine that, but to each their own.

The down side of being self employed and working from home (most of the time) is that it’s easy to become complacent and not give a thought to what you’re wearing day after day. Some days, if I’m having a all-day hot flash, I’ll sit in here at the computer with just a tank top and undies, a fan blowing on me from two feet away. I keep my thermostat set above 84 and I still got an electric bill for over $400 last month-for a one story house. How crazy is that?

After putting it off as long as I could, I finally went into my closet last night. Other than trying on swimsuits under unflattering fluorescent lights at a store, going through my closet really ranks up there on my “I don’t want to do this.” list. I was face-to-fabric with some of my unfortunate clothing choices from the past. (I should never go shopping alone.) Why did I think I could ever wear horizontal stripes? I’m 5’4″-or I was before I started to shrink. The ghosts from failed diets past were lurking in there too, just waiting to ruin my self-esteem. I heard them whispering to one another “She really thought she was  going to get into that again?” Then they snickered.

As my father used to say “I girded up my loins” and went right on in, passing the pencil skirt that’s never been worn and ruffled blouse. (Why I ever thought I needed to draw attention to my boobs I do not know.) In the past, I’d get bummed out and leave the closet without having faced my fears. This time, I was a woman on a mission. The clothes I knew I would never wear for whatever reason were taken out and bagged for Katy Christian Mission, the local resale shop. It was a liberating experience.

When I went into the closet this morning it was silent. It was great. All of the ghosts are gone, never to return. I am in the here and now and not going back. It feels good.