Foosballers Wives

My wardrobe conspired against me this morning. Nothing felt right, nothing looked right. I changed my clothes three times and ended up settling on a T-shirt that is clean but somehow smells of mildew. The jacket I put on over it now smells of mildew due to its proximity to the stanky shirt. Even the new stuff I bought two weeks ago didn’t work, which made me less excited about test-driving it. I hate to shop, so it’ll be another eight months before I buy anything else to get jazzed about. And I chopped three and a half inches off my hair and now my hair is all wonky in the front and wah wah wah crymeariverjustintimberlake.

I have this theory that new clothes are like school supplies (except for the fact that school supplies are fun to buy): You color-code them and pet them and admire their pristine condition and fantasize about great possibilities when they are on or near your person, but once they’re used, reality sinks in and you realize you have to iron.

Anyway, it was just one of those mornings — a woman walking slowly in front of me cut me off every time I tried to pass her, the barista at Starbucks forgot to make my drink — and yet my mood could not be spoiled. Despite being so exhausted all day yesterday that I convinced myself I had Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, I was forced out of bed last night by an antsy Josh at 1 a.m. and we went for a walk in the rain. It’s one of those barfy couples stories that make other people roll their eyes, and I do feel doucheish for repeating it, but I must say that I think it ranks in our Top 3 moments. We stopped at a bar in search of coffee, drank seltzer water and juice instead, and played some no-holds-barred foosball. It was completely spontaneous and cathartic for both of us. We’ve both been under so much pressure lately — he with school, me with being at work all. the. freakin’. time., and both of us with really feeling the need to overhaul our physical and mental selves — so doing something that’s become out of the ordinary just felt so FRESH. A byproduct of getting older, for me, has been that I get so wrapped up in the things I have to do that I know I’ve pushed away many fringe moments that could have been as exhilarating as the rain walk. Hell, I almost pushed away the moment Josh proposed because I had to do laundry. My instinct to immediately say no to potentially life-altering moments is disconcerting, but I’m working on it.

Something else that is disconcerting? This. Stephanie brought this to my attention. Being a nurse, she may not be bothered by it as she deals with such subject matter on a daily basis. But a Barbie dog that eats its own bits ain’t right, y’all.