I left the house in mismatched shoes

I was in a stall in the bathroom at work this morning and looked down and realized I had two different shoes on. Running shoes no less. And, no, the dress code for my job is not typically running shoes. But my back was stiff when I got up this morning. I figured it could use some good support all day. Running shoes it was. I regularly get made fun of for it. I regularly float out there vague references to medical issues.  We all regularly lose interest and move on to other topics to discuss.  

L is for loser.  Right here. My pants normally hang over the laces so it's not as noticeable.  But still.  Who leaves the house like that? 

Except it was dark in the bathroom when I got dressed this morning.  I chuck all my tennis shoes in a bucket instead of stacking them neatly and I own 3 pairs of the exact same style of shoe in different colors. While picking two shoes out of the bucket this morning, I managed to pick 2 different ones and left the house wearing them and went to my grown adult job.

There is no better sign that I am not having a good day than looking down and seeing shoes that don’t match. Seriously. How do you convince yourself you are operating on all cylinders while looking at that? You don’t, that’s how. Because you are in left field.  But not even far enough in left field because other grown adults can still see you and someone is eventually going to notice the mismatched shoes and then you will feel exponentially stupider.   And you already felt really, really stupid.

A week ago, I drove my family to dinner and was the last one out of the car. I left the keys in the ignition with the car running. We went in, I shoved fajitas down my gullet and then we came outside to a running car. Better than coming out to an empty parking spot. But only slightly better. Because it’s pretty demoralizing. I know from experience.

Sometimes I feel like a chicken with my head cut off trying to get it all done. Then sometimes I see the mess the chicken with the head cut off is creating running around like a lunatic and it's not good. 

I spent the rest of the day at work in my mismatched shoes hoping my son’s soccer game would get rained out. Normally I hope for stuff like that so I can avoid having to get off my lazy butt and do anything. Today, it’s because I need to get on Amazon and order myself some Ginko Biloba.

Lately, I’ve just been off my game. Too many things to do. Too many little things to try to keep track of. Shopping lists left at home. Remembering volleyball games at the last minute. Running late for appointments. Forgetting phone calls to return. One tiny little brain trying to get too much stuff done. I can only have so many sticky notes on my desk with lists of stuff I need to get done.

Last night, I successfully registered my kids for 3 weeks of a summer program I know they really, really like. Since it’s April, I was mentally patting myself on the back all morning for getting on top of summer stuff so early. But I was mentally patting myself on the back while wearing mismatched shoes. There is something so tragically ironic about that I wish I were living a reality show and there was a camera to zoom in on my face as I stare at my mismatched shoes. Although I was in a bathroom stall at the time, so maybe the zooming in could wait until I came out of the stall.

You know, like maybe the camera could be there as I dramatically open the stall door. Then I could be washing my hands while I look suitably shocked and simultaneously horrified. Then I could segue to looking disoriented like maybe I’m realizing I’m developing some sort of early onset dementia. The music could build to a dramatic crescendo as it cuts to me rushing back to my desk to Google the symptoms but hiding the Google search from coworkers walking by because I’m not emotionally ready to talk about it yet. It would be very after school special only starring a grown up working mother wearing a wrinkled shirt and possibly no deodorant since she may or may not have forgotten to put any on that morning.  Luckily, my office is freezing but let's all agree it's still not good.  

Yesterday's problem was a headache. The best known cure for a headache is 29 graham crackers, a Dr. Pepper, some Fritos and 3 small bags of Cadbury mini eggs. So naturally I shoved all of that in my face and went to bed early. Today, my friend the scale reported what a total failure I am and have been for the last month.  I also overslept for working out. And I forgot to mail something to someone.  And I forgot a phone number I need at home.  And the list of my deficiencies goes on and on.

So, pretty much everything is coming up aces and I should definitely buy a lottery ticket.  

Let's call it a wash and try again tomorrow.  Sigh.