When I was in my pre-teen/teen years, my mom would tell me why bother with the way I look when we were just going to a trip to the grocery store or the laundromat.
Mommie dearest lied.
You’re, in fact, destined to run into anyone and everyone when you look like your dying of Ebola and forgot to even brush your hair when making that quick trip to Target for some cold medicine.
My mom would say that we’re just going to the laundromat and boom, there was my crush of the month who was also there. I was 13 and would be mortified.
Oh my god… my hair isn’t hair sprayed to death and I don’t have make up on.
My most recent run in was a few weeks ago. I had to get a CT scan of my heart and it was really early in the morning. They called me back to get the i.v. started for contrast and I was sitting there with my hair all wild, no bra, and blotches on my face from lack of makeup.
I was sitting there waiting my turn and completely zoned out on benadryl and prednisone because I’m allergic to the CT scan dye and break out in blisters.
There I was, slumped over the chair, since benadryl fucks me up like you wouldn’t believe.
From my dazed view I hear the words “Are you the little hummingbird’s mom?” “I saw you here last week when you were in ICU but I didn’t want to say anything.”
Yes, yes I am.
“I thought so. We’re neighbors. I’m “Ashley’s” mom”!
Oh, yes, yes you are… as drool dribbles out of my mouth and I’m seeing Smurfs skydive because Benadryl fucks me up that bad.
Most of the time I don’t give a fuck, though. I proudly showed up to my 8 year-old’s school in my pajamas the other day.
It takes me a lot to put on real clothes but if I’m driving 5 minutes to my kid’s school in 20 degree weather, I want to be comfy in pajama pants, a sweatshirt, snow boots, and to make the outfit… my fanciest scarf that says yes, yes I do kind of sort of give a fuck.
Really, it’s that fancy of a scarf. Or, fancy in my eyes. At least it’s not something I crawled out of bed with.
While we’re at it, let’s go back to that time in Target when I was picking up cold medicine. My nose was bright red from blowing it and my eyes were bloodshot. My hair was wild and my voice was hoarse. Then, I hear,
“Excuse me? Excuse me, Miss? I know you from the Unitarian church, don’t I?”
Her face doesn’t register but since we don’t got to the UU church very often, I’m sure that’s where we know each other from.
I quickly say “Yes, that must be it. Nice seeing you”. Then, I run my ass down the handsoap aisle and want to fall through the floor from embarrassment.
So, dear, mom. When you said “Don’t bother, you won’t see anyone you know”…. I will shout “It’s a trick! I’m going to see 30 people I know because I decided not to put on my bra. Because that’s the way it works.