Week 4- FINISHED

Heads up: there’s a bit of ‘irritation’ toward the end of this post…and it’s not censored.

Ever have one of those days when everything pisses you off? I mean, even stupid stuff like my socks being inside out...it was that bad. Add to that the fact that I had to put on a dress for just ten more minutes...it infuriated me. I'm starting to think that wearing a skirt/dress acted as a barrier to some of my more aggressive tendencies. With the time almost up, the barrier was breaking down, big time.

I woke up late, in a really really bad mood. I was actually pissed off BECAUSE I woke up late. I don't like sleeping. I don't like sleeping in. I don't like taking naps, relaxing, taking a break, chilling, taking it easy, just hanging around or whatever else you want to call it. It irritates me. It's a waste of time and energy. Perhaps that's the reason why I tend to take random floor naps (read: I'm in the middle of something and the next thing I know, I'm waking up on the floor), whiteboard faceplants and mid-sentence pencil drops. But yeah, I was not a happy camper when I woke up and saw that my clock said 8:45am.

Add to that the fact that I still had to get ready to go to and from the gym. I was not having it at all this morning. Should I say it again? I WAS NOT HAVING IT THIS MORNING. My sleep was interrupted by a random, but painful, train of thought. It slipped into my dreams and just ran wild. It made me angry at the world as a whole (or at least a good bit of the population).

But enough of my whining. Again, that's what diaries are for. I threw on the green dress. It looks like sweatshirt material. I put on flip flops and went to the gym, where my day proceeded to tank further...and then it happened. I looked up from my pathetic attempts to stretch and saw two ajummas sword fighting with the exercise poles. No, seriously, mutha mutha SWORD FIGHTING. Watching old people do stupid stuff while laughing manically tends to make me feel better (not that it's happened too many times before, of course).

But yeah, the week is finally over. I had a cloud hanging over my head for most of the morning, and still kind of do, so that kind of put  a damper on my joy in being able to slip into a pair of jeans before work.

Not enough to ruin the whole day, though. But I have to say that *gasp* I guess I do look kinda like isht on a regular basis. I don’t know how to do all that fashionable crap, and I’m not going to pretend to be interested in knowing how. During the week, someone I’m kinda *really* interested in said “you look beautiful”. Ok, bea-freaking-utiful. Not “sexy” “pretty” “hot” “cute” or other things far worse. Certain words have certain connotations, and beautiful packs a punch, as far as I’m concerned. It was nice to hear it, but at the same time it sucks, because I highly doubt I would have heard that if I was wearing my standard-op jeans and a t-shirt. Two sides of me are beating each other senseless at the moment, and they likely will be for a while. I only hope that the lesser of the two evils wins.

**Herein lies the irritation, feel free to skip to below the next red line**

“You look more…approachable” Wow…I know people don’t mean to be dickbags, but damn. “approachable”? I didn’t realize that I gave off that much of a deathvibe. I know I’ve got a strong presence, but I need a freaking dress to soften me to the point of being approachable? Shit. Perhaps I should take that to heart and consider being less of an ice queen…

…AND I’m done considering. Nope. Not gonna do it. If you’re too much of a pansy to approach me when I’m being myself, then piss off. I want nothing to do with you. Besides, friends (and anyone who’s seen me in the pathetic state I assume when I like someone) will tell you that once I’m with someone and I know them, I’m (relatively) harmless.

**Okay, it's safe to read, again**

 

I will wear a dress, if and when I feel like it. I will rock my stilts and own them, because that’s what I do. I will continue to wear jeans and t shirts and too many rings and not enough makeup. And if for some odd reason I wanna be pretty, I’m gonna do it, gawkers be damned.

What I learned from this experience:

1)      People are surprised that I can look like a girl

2)      Wearing a skirt/dress seriously limits your ability to be a impulsive and childish without consequence

3)      Jeans are ‘sexy’, dresses are ‘pretty'

4)      Clothing has a serious effect on how people perceive you

5)      Somewhere in me there’s a pink glitter-puking unicorn-loving fairy dying to get out and take over my life. (She shall remain contained, for now, at least)

Back to my regular wardrobe. Looks like crap, feels like paradise.