SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Wednesday, Aug. 15, 2012 @ 1:10 pm
Blahs



You're quiet these days, says Carl over the cubicle wall.

I've been very grumpy for the last three days. Don't know what's up. I walk around with my jaw clenched and a flat look on my face.

I get up 6 in the morning, and I'm instantly angry. I blame D for keeping me up too late as he refuses to go to bed earlier because he doesn't have to get up until 7. I add up all of those hours and by the weekend I'm wrecked and then he gets mad at me for not wanting to go out on Friday night.

I stand in front of my closet every morning trying to patch together a presentable outfit. At this point I have three downtown outfits, which makes the other two days of the week sloppy. Who is looking? I should just wear that black dress and plum cardigan every day.

At lunch I go to the mall to try to solve the wardrobe problem. I am intimidated by Banana Republic but can't stand the lineup at H&M. In Jacob, I take a pile of clothes into the back, all size small. The dresses hang awkwardly from me, maybe I need extra small? This makes no sense; I'm not skinny. If this is small, then what size do all of of those skinny people wear?

I march back to the office empty handed, my shirt smelling faintly of sweat from a year of weekly wearing. The sun blazes, and fancy business women breeze by me with well dressed cologne-wearing men.

What's wrong with me? Why can't I just flick a switch and be cheerful?


Roots | Shoots