Somewhere in the midst of working on something really awesome and exciting (with short breaks for g-chatting and watching daytime television), I forgot to leave my apartment today. I forgot to brush my hair, take off my “Wicked Good Slippers”, and mail that check. I didn’t think it was a big deal—I was actually happy about what I created today—until the mail lady buzzed my buzzer, and, for the second day in a row, I answered the door in the same pajama outfit.
I had a flashback to being sick in high school, not wanting the exterminator or tree man or whoever else made a semi-regular non-social appearance at my house to know that I was sick. Only now, I’m not sick.
I wanted to tell the mail lady, who thankfully no longer hates me now that my mailbox is clearly marked in beautiful green letters, that I was neither sick nor completely worthless. I wanted to tell her that I am looking for a career, that I will have one soon—that I have big plans and am working on projects, creeping toward goals. I wanted to tell her that I am absolutely not one of those people who just say they are “job hunting” but are actually just waiting for the world to come to them—that a looming fear of mine is people thinking that about me.
I wanted to tell her that I’m just a pajama person who doesn’t like to leave her apartment unnecessarily because she likes to buy things and really wants to keep decorating her apartment but feels like she will vomit if she does it before she has a paycheck. Nobody enjoys feeling queasy.
I didn’t say any of these things.
I just said, “Hi.” And then, I dropped a piece of my mail and told her she could put the packages for my neighbor on the stairs. I rescued the fallen item and wondered to myself when I would ever meet my neighbors. I hated that I never got back to the girls in the basement about their internet question, told the mail lady to have a nice day, and then scampered back to the safety of my apartment.
I looked at my feet and forgot to remember to think about other people’s thoughts. I thought about some other things; hypocrites always say they hate hypocrites.