First of all, just let me say that this week has been the pits, the pits, ladies!!! This stupid bug just won't let go, I'm still nauseous, tired, cranky, out of sorts and I still haven't got my closet switched over. And it's been, what, two weeks now? And at this age I can't handle a mess. I just can't take it anymore. Anybody elses messes don't bother me at all, or when the kids come and we have stuff everywhere, that's fine, I guess because I know that when they leave, it will go back to normal again.
But this chaos that has been in my bedroom has been driving me wild, and I haven't had the energy to do anything about it. It was so bad yesterday morning that I just sat in the middle of the bed and cried. I told hubby that he had to do help me, I was just overwhelmed. Most of it is because I don't feel good, but I was just at the end of my rope. And bless his heart, he picked up, got me organized to the point that I could start to make sense of the mess I had created. I still don't have everything put away, but I'm moving in that direction, finally.
And what was the discovery I made yesterday? Well, when I was taking all my summer pants and sorting them into piles, I realized that I hate khaki. I do, I hate it. I have a boatload of it, too. Capris, chinos, dressy slacks, some of it still with tags on it, the rest, barely worn. And I not only hate khaki on myself, I hate it on all women. Well, except for those cute young things with the firm bodies and tan legs that look good in anything. I think there should be some kind of law that women over forty shouldn't be allowed to wear it.
I know, I know, khaki and white, the perfect summer combo, yeah, yeah. Every woman I see in khaki just looks dowdy. It's boring beige, and it just screams old lady. I love white in the summer, it's cool and clean and crisp, I love army green capris with a bright orange tee, too, but khaki is just downright unflattering. Now, all of my friends who read this will be thinking, "well, I'm not gonna wear khaki around her anymore." I'm just sayin....
So am I throwing it all away? Hell no, I'm just shoving it on the back of the shelf, like I always do, in case I have some kind of revelation and start liking it again. Um hmmmm, when pigs fly...
But this chaos that has been in my bedroom has been driving me wild, and I haven't had the energy to do anything about it. It was so bad yesterday morning that I just sat in the middle of the bed and cried. I told hubby that he had to do help me, I was just overwhelmed. Most of it is because I don't feel good, but I was just at the end of my rope. And bless his heart, he picked up, got me organized to the point that I could start to make sense of the mess I had created. I still don't have everything put away, but I'm moving in that direction, finally.
And what was the discovery I made yesterday? Well, when I was taking all my summer pants and sorting them into piles, I realized that I hate khaki. I do, I hate it. I have a boatload of it, too. Capris, chinos, dressy slacks, some of it still with tags on it, the rest, barely worn. And I not only hate khaki on myself, I hate it on all women. Well, except for those cute young things with the firm bodies and tan legs that look good in anything. I think there should be some kind of law that women over forty shouldn't be allowed to wear it.
I know, I know, khaki and white, the perfect summer combo, yeah, yeah. Every woman I see in khaki just looks dowdy. It's boring beige, and it just screams old lady. I love white in the summer, it's cool and clean and crisp, I love army green capris with a bright orange tee, too, but khaki is just downright unflattering. Now, all of my friends who read this will be thinking, "well, I'm not gonna wear khaki around her anymore." I'm just sayin....
So am I throwing it all away? Hell no, I'm just shoving it on the back of the shelf, like I always do, in case I have some kind of revelation and start liking it again. Um hmmmm, when pigs fly...
