Break Out the Mothballs, It's Time to Get Dressed

Break Out the Mothballs, It's Time to Get Dressed

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.

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The Knitting Debacle: When an Armhole Full of Judgment Destroys Your Happy Place

The Knitting Debacle: When an Armhole Full of Judgment Destroys Your Happy Place

“Okay, look at me. Stop what you’re doing and look at me. In order to knit this armhole, we have to figure out how many stitches we need. So, what’s half of 32?” the calm and gentle knitting instructor with the perfectly toned arms asked. 

“Half of 32? Half of 32. Wait, I know this…hold on…umm…”

Why are you not getting this? What’s wrong with you, you idiot? Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry, Hali. Just…don’t!

Grabbing my haystack of a hairdo (too much sun-not enough conditioner) tightly between newly tanned fingers, I wished I could just rip my whole head off and end it all.

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