Blog, Interrupted

I had some great ideas for today’s blog. Really I did. But today finds me a little discombobulated on two counts.

Count One: I’m wearing BLUE socks. How does one get up and dress in olive-green corduroy pants, oatmeal sweater, and brown shoes and manage not to notice blue socks until one is on the train? ARRRGHHH. I hope this is not an omen for the day. The fashion police will be after me for sure. Good thing I don’t work for Nordstrom or I’d likely get sent home. My office will probably just nominate me for “What Not To Wear”. Come to think though, then I’d get $5 grand and a free trip to New York. Maybe I should wear blue socks more often!

Count Two: My hair smells funny. Funny probably is the wrong word. I just got it cut on Tuesday and Lisa gave me new hair “stuff” to put in it. Very expensive new hair “stuff”. Generally, I like the new hair “stuff”. And I think that most people would appreciate the fragrance. To me it smells like a nurse log. It took me all day yesterday to figure out why I was having flashbacks to my childhood, playing in the woods on our property. For those of you who didn’t grow up in Washington, or slept in your 8th grade ecology class, a nurse log is a fallen old growth timber or stump that has decayed to the point where it becomes a fertile base for ferns, moss, mushrooms, etc. They also make great forts and hiding spots if you’re ten years old, and you don’t mind sharing space with frogs, salamanders, and the occasional nesting bird or snake. Nurse logs distinctly smell of moisture, moss, dirt and usually cedar. It’s actually not an unattractive odor and I can see why someone at Aveda thought it would be an excellent scent for their Confixor Hair Gel.

However, for me, the smell makes me compulsively check my fingernails for dirt, and I can’t resist the urge to check and see if I have sticks caught in my hair. Those are minor annoyances though, compared to the overwhelming desire to shift my file cabinet and stack up reams of paper around my desk to make a fortress from which to attack my cubie neighbors.

At least they probably won’t notice my socks.