Well, it’s official…I can no longer get dressed. When the world opened back up in March, it meant that I would also be opening my closet back up. There would be no more rolling out of bed twenty minutes before I needed to teach my students. No more wearing sweats, or shorts, or not having to worry about the clashing of color combinations. Shoes would now be a thing. Pre-pandemic, I prided myself on coordinating my shoes with the color of my shirts. Now, I can barely find the energy to dig through my basket of flip flops. I spend what feels like days in front of my closet just staring in. I have no idea how to get dressed anymore, for people, that is. My cats don’t care if I’m wearing a seafoam green t-shirt with olive-colored shorts. They also don’t care if I wear deodorant, or that my shower schedule has dwindled down to three days a week.

So, there’s this commercial for something called Always Discreet Boutique…Maximum Protection…Made Beautiful. You may have seen it. They’re special panties for women who “leak”.

As my husband and I were muting it, I asked him, “Is this a thing? I mean, these women look my age! Am I now supposed to worry about leaking on top of every other weird aging thing that’s happening?”

“I don’t know, sweetie.” He responded.

It was a mere week later when I realized that, yes, this could be a thing.

Having driven down to Carlsbad for a visit with my husband’s Aunt and cousins, I had just sucked back my iced venti soy chai. It was a lovely day, clear, warm, perfect for a walk through the San Diego Botanic Gardens. A time to catch up with family and stroll through thirty-seven acres of 4,000 different plant species. But I really had to pee. I hadn’t felt that type of pressure on my bladder since I stood in line waiting for the single bathroom at a frat house in college. I wasn’t too worried, though. I mean, we’ll walk, we’ll hit a restroom, it’s fine.

Five minutes into the Bamboo Garden, I felt a drip. Wait, what? No. Oh no! I desperately looked for a place to sit down, you know, to possibly stop the pee in its tracks, but the only thing available was a bamboo bench that was for display purposes only. And then there was another drip. I did that whole crossing your legs thing but then, it was happening. Oh my god. This is not happening. Is this happening? Fuck!